WOMEN AS INSPIRERS AND COLLABORATORS IN SCIENCE
One of the most interesting literary figures of the fifth century was
Caius Apollinaris Sidonius, who, after holding a number of important
civil offices, became the bishop of Clermont. The most valuable of his
extant works are his nine books of letters which are a mine of
information respecting the history of his age and the manners, customs
and ideals of his contemporaries.
In one of these letters, addressed to Hesperius, a young friend of his
who exhibited special talent in polite literature, he expresses a
sentiment which applies as well to the votary of science as to the man
of letters. Referring to the assistance which women had given to their
husbands and friends in their studies, he conjures him to remember that
in days of old it was the wont of Martia, Terentia, Calpurnia,
Pudentilla and Rusticana to hold the lamp while their husbands,
Hortensius, Cicero, Pliny, Apuleius and Symmachus, were reading and
meditating.[233]
This picture of women as light-bearers to the great orators and
philosophers just named is symbolic of them as the helpmates and
inspirers of men in every field of human activity and in every age of
the world's history. Always and everywhere, when permitted to occupy the
same social plane as men, women have been not only as lamps unto the
feet and as lights unto the paths of their male compeers in the ordinary
affairs of life, but have also been their guiding stars and ministering
angels in the highest spheres of intellectual effort.
For nearly fifteen centuries St. Jerome has had the gratitude of the
church for his masterly translation, known as the Vulgate, of the Hebrew
Scriptures. But, had it not been for his two noble friends, Paula and
Eustochium, who were as eminent for their intellectual attainments as
they were for their descent from the most distinguished families of Rome
and Greece, there would have been no Vulgate. For they were not only his
inspirers in this colossal undertaking, but they were his active and
zealous collaborators as well.
Dante and Petrarch are acclaimed as the morning stars of modern
literature, but both of them owed their immortality to the inspiration
of two pure-minded and noble-hearted women.
In the concluding paragraph of his Vita Nuova--the most beautiful love
story ever written--Dante records his purpose to say of his inspirer,
the gentle, gracious Beatrice Portinari, "what was never said of any
woman." The outcome of this exalted purpose was the Divina Commedia, the
world's greatest literary masterpiece.
Petrarch, the father of humanism, is the first to give Laura de Noves
credit for his attainments as a poet. In one of his poems he sings:
"Blest be the year, the month, the hour, the day,
The season and the time, and point of space,
And blest the beauteous country and the place
Where first of two eyes I felt the sway."
Elsewhere in one of his prose dialogues with St. Augustine he declares,
"Whatever you see in me, be it little or much, is due to her; nor would
I ever have attained to this measure of name and fame unless she had
cherished by those most noble influences that my feeble implanting of
virtues which nature had placed in this breast."[234]
A no less remarkable inspirer, but in an entirely different sphere of
activity, was the devout and spotless Italian maiden, Chiara Schiffi,
better known as St. Clara. She was, as is well known, the ardent
cooperator of St. Francis Assisi in his great work of social and
religious reform which has contributed so much toward the welfare of
humanity. But it is not generally known what an important part she had
in this great undertaking, and how she sustained the Poverello during
long hours of trial and hardship. It was during these periods of care
and struggle that we see how courageous and intrepid was "this woman who
has always been represented as frail, emaciated, blanched like a flower
of the cloister."
"She defended Francis not only against others but also against himself.
In those hours of dark discouragement which so often and so profoundly
disturb the noblest souls and sterilize the grandest efforts, she was
beside him to show the way. When he doubted his mission and thought of
fleeing to the heights of repose and solitary prayer, it was she who
showed him the ripening harvest with no reapers to gather it in, men
going astray with no shepherd to herd them, and drew him once again into
the train of the Galilean, into the number of those who give their
lives as a ransom for many."[235]
It is under the shade of the olive trees of St. Damian, with his
sister-friend Clara caring for him, "that he composes his finest work,
that which Ernest Renan called the most perfect utterance of modern
religions sentiment, _The Canticle of the Sun_."[236]
This canticle, however, beautiful as it is, lacks, as has well been
remarked, one strophe. "If it was not upon Francis' lips, it was surely
in his heart:"
"Be praised, Lord, for Sister Clara;
Thou hast made her silent, active, and sagacious,
And, by her, thy light shines in our hearts."[237]
It was through the inspiration and influence of Theodora that the famous
Church of St. Sophia, that matchless poem in marble and gold, that
imperishable monument to the glory of the true God, came into existence.
It was through her that Justinian conceived the idea of those _Pandects_
and _Institutes_ which constitute the greatest glory of his reign, and
which are the basis of the _Code Napoleon_ and of all modern
jurisprudence.
It was to Vittoria Colonna that Michaelangelo dedicated many of the most
exquisite productions of his peerless genius. "He saw," as has been
said, "with her eyes and acted by her inspiration."
Almost every one of Chopin's compositions was inspired by women, and a
large proportion of them are dedicated to them. The same may be said of
Mozart, Mendelssohn, Schubert, Beethoven, Weber, Schumann and other
illustrious composers. All these sons of genius believed with
Castiglione that "all inspiration must come from woman;" that she had
been expressly created and sent into the world to inspire them with
intelligence and creative power.
M. Claviere declares that "There is hardly a philosopher or a poet of
the sixteenth century whose pages are not illuminated or gladdened by
the smile of some high-born lady."[238]
What the brilliant Frenchman says of the influence of woman on the poets
and philosophers of a single century could with equal truth be said of
the poets and philosophers of every century from Anacreon and Plato to
the present day. And, still more, it can be predicated of woman's
inspiration and influence in every department of intellectual effort, in
art and architecture, in music and literature, in science in all its
departments, whether deductive or inductive.
It has been well said, "Were history to be rewritten, with due regard to
women's share in it, many small causes, heretofore disregarded, would be
found fully to explain great and unlooked-for results.... For it is not
in outward facts, nor great names, nor noisy deeds, nor genealogies of
crowned heads, nor in tragic loves, nor ambitious or striking heroism,
nor crime, that we find proofs of the constant and secret working
whereby woman most effectually asserts herself. Certainly she has played
her part in the outward and visible history of the world, but in that
history which is told and written, which is buried in archives and
revivified in books, woman's part is always small when set beside that
of her companion, man. She contributes but little, and at this she may
surely rejoice, to the tales of battles and treaties of successions and
alliances, of violence, fraud, suspicions and hatreds. But if the inward
history of human affairs could be described as fully as the outward
facts; if the story of the family could be told together with the story
of the nation; if human thoughts could with certainty be divined from
human deeds, then the chief figure in this history of sentiment and
morals would certainly be that of Woman the Inspirer."[239]
This same statement would hold equally good if applied to the part taken
by women in the history of science. Their achievements have, in most
cases, been so overshadowed by those of men that their work has been
usually regarded as a negligible quantity. But when one considers the
mainsprings of actions, and examines the silent undercurrents which
escape the notice of the superficial observer, one finds, as in social
and political history, that the most important scientific investigations
are often conducted, and the most momentous discoveries are made, in
consequence of the promptings of some devoted woman friend, or in virtue
of the still, small voice of a cherished wife, or sister, who prefers to
remain in the background in order that all the glory of achievement may
redound to the man.
There have been, it may safely be asserted, few really eminent men in
science, as there have been few really eminent men in art or letters, or
in the great reform and religious movements of the world, who have not
been assisted by some woman light-bearer, as were Hortensius by Martia,
Tully by Terentia and Pliny by Calpurnia. There have been few that have
not, during hours of doubt and discouragement, been sustained and
stimulated as was Francis by Clara, and Jerome by Paula and Eustochium.
And there have been still fewer who have not had, like Petrarch and
Dante, their Laura or their Beatrice of whom each could say:
"This is the beacon guides to deeds of worth,
And urges me to see the glorious goal:
This bids me leave behind the vulgar throng."
In the preceding chapters we have had notable examples of women whose
beneficent influence and cooperation have enabled distinguished men of
science to achieve results that would otherwise have been impossible.
Among these--to mention only a few--were Mme. Lavoisier and Mme. Curie
in chemistry, Mme. Lapaute and Miss Herschel in astronomy, Mrs. Agassiz
and Mme. Coudreau in natural science and exploration, Mme. Schliemann
and Mme. Dieulafoy in archaeology.
One of the most illustrious women inspirers of France was Catherine de
Parthenay, who, after attaining womanhood, became the brilliant Princess
de Rohan, and was recognized as one of the most learned and most
remarkable women of the sixteenth century. As a young girl she exhibited
rare intelligence and displayed special aptitude for the exact sciences.
For this reason her mother saw to it that her child had the benefit of
instruction under the ablest masters that could be secured.
The most noted of these was Francois Viete, the learned French
mathematician, who is justly regarded as the father of modern algebra.
In his day, especially in the higher classes of society, the education
given to women was often more thorough than that afforded to men. For
this reason, too, women not infrequently became distinguished in
astronomy, which was then usually known under the name of astrology.
Viete, in initiating his gifted pupil into the principles of this
science, became himself so enthusiastic a student of astronomy that he
determined to prepare an elaborate work on the subject--something on the
plan of the _Almagest_ of Ptolemy--a work which he designated
_Harmonicum Celeste_.
In order that the instruction given his pupil might not be lacking in
precision, Viete wrote out, with the most scrupulous care, the lessons
designed for her benefit. The manuscripts containing these lessons were
long preserved among the family archives, but nearly all of them were
unfortunately consigned to the flames during the French Revolution in
1793.
No one was more interested in Viete's mathematical researches--those
researches which have rendered him so famous in the history of
science--than was the Princess de Rohan. The former pupil was the first
to receive notice of her distinguished master's discoveries and the
first to congratulate him on his success.
It was to this cherished pupil, who always remained his friend and
benefactress, that Viete dedicated his important work on mathematical
analysis entitled _In Artem Analyticam Isagoge_. The words of the
dedication are a tribute to the learning and the genius of the pupil as
well as an expression of the gratitude of the teacher. It reads as
follows:
"It is to you especially, august daughter of Melusine, that I am
indebted for my proficiency in mathematics, to attain which I was
encouraged by your love for this science, as well as your great
knowledge of it, and by your mastery of all other sciences, which one
cannot too much admire in a person of your noble lineage."[240]
More interesting, and at the same time more pathetic, were the relations
of an Italian nun, Sister Maria Celeste, and the man whom Byron so
happily designates as
"The starry Galileo, with his woes."
Sister Celeste, who was a Franciscan nun in the convent of St. Matthew,
in Arcetri, was the great astronomer's eldest and favorite daughter.
They were greatly attached to each other, and the gentle religieuse was
not only her father's confidante and consoler in the hours of trial and
affliction, but was also his inspirer and ever-vigilant guardian angel.
She watched over him, not as a daughter over a father, but as a mother
watches over an only son.[241]
All this is beautifully exhibited in her one hundred and twenty-four
letters which were published in 1891 for the first time. A few of these
letters, it is true, were published as early as 1852 by Alberi, in his
edition of the complete works of Galileo, and others were given to the
press at subsequent dates; but the world had to wait more than two and a
half centuries for a complete collection of all the known letters of
this remarkable daughter of an illustrious sire.
These documents are precious for the insight they give into the sterling
character of a noble woman, but they are beyond price as sources of
information respecting the tenderly affectionate relations which existed
between her and one of the foremost men of science, not only of his own
age, but of all time. They show how he made her his confidante in all
his undertakings, and how she was his amanuensis, his counselor, his
inspirer; how her love was an incentive to the work that won for him
undying fame; how she was his support and comfort when suffering from
the jealousy of rivals or the enmity of those who were opposed to his
teachings.
These letters cover a period of nearly eleven years--the most momentous
years of her father's busy and troubled life. Now playful, quaint,
elfish, then serious, vivid, confidential, they show that the writer's
intelligence was as rare as her nature was loyal and affectionate. At
times she half-apologizes for the length of a letter, "but you must
remember," she adds in excuse, "that I must put into this paper
everything that I should chatter to you in a week."
No daughter was ever prouder of her father or loved him with a more
abounding love. "I pride myself," she says, "that I love and revere my
dearest father more, by far, than others love their fathers, and I
clearly perceive that, in return, he far surpasses the greater part of
other fathers in the love which he has for me, his loved daughter."
When he was ill she prepared dishes and confections that she knew would
tempt his appetite. But she was not satisfied with looking after the
welfare of his body, for she took occasion to send with the cakes and
preserved fruits a sermonette for the benefit of his soul.
An extract from one of her letters gives an insight into the character
of this devoted daughter, who, Galileo says in a letter to his friend,
Elia Diodati, "was a woman of exquisite mind, singular goodness and most
tenderly attached to me."
"Of the preserved citron you ordered," she writes him on the nineteenth
of December, 1625, "I have only been able to do a small quantity. I
feared the citrons were too shriveled for preserving, and so they
proved. I send two baked pears for these days of vigil. But the greatest
treat of all I send you is a rose, which ought to please you extremely,
seeing what a rarity it is at this season. And with the rose you must
accept its thorns, which represent the bitter passion of Our Lord, while
the green leaves represent the hope we may entertain that, through the
same sacred passion, we, having passed through the darkness of this
short winter of our mortal life, may attain to the brightness and
felicity of an eternal spring in heaven, which may our gracious God
grant us through His mercy."[242]
She always insists upon his keeping her fully informed about his studies
and discoveries. She is particular, also, about receiving without delay
copies of his latest publications. "I beg you," she writes in one of her
letters, "to be so kind as to send me that book of yours which has just
been published, _Il Saggiatore_, so that I may read it; for I have a
great desire to see it."
On another occasion, after his difficulties with the Holy Office, when
she fancies her father is not keeping her fully informed about the
subject matter of his writings, she implores him to tell her on what
topic he is engaged, "if," she archly adds, "it be something I can
understand and you are not afraid that I will blab."
And on still another occasion Sister Celeste reminds her father of a
promise of his to send her a small telescope. From this we should infer
that she desired to repeat the observations on the heavenly bodies that
had created such a sensation in the learned world, and which had given
occasion for such acrimonious controversy.
In one of her earlier letters Sister Celeste calls her father's
attention to a promise of his to spend an afternoon with her and her
sister Arcangela, also a nun in the same convent. And, referring to one
of the regulations of the Franciscan cloister, she playfully observes:
"You will be able to sup in the parlor, since the excommunication is for
the table cloth"--O Sister Celeste!--"and not for the meats thereon."
What would one not give for a stenographic report of the conversations
held that afternoon in the convent garden of Arcetri, as father and
daughters leisurely strolled through the peaceful enclosure, all quite
oblivious of the fleeting hours? How interesting would be a faithful
record of the confidences exchanged at the frugal meal in the evening in
the humble parlor of S. Matteo! We would willingly exchange many of the
famous _Dialoghi di Galileo Galilei_ for a verbatim report of what
passed between Sister Celeste and the father whom she so idolized.[243]
Judging from her letters, she had many questions to ask him about his
studies, his experiments, his discoveries, his books, as well as about
more personal and domestic matters.
Although there is no documentary proof of the fact, yet there is every
reason to believe that Galileo had taken personal charge of the
education of this, his favorite daughter. She shared his taste for
science and inherited not a little of his genius. Such being the case,
we may well believe that a faithful account of their conversations of
that day would be not only of surpassing interest, but would also throw
a flood of light on many questions now ill understood. They would
certainly tend to fill up the numerous lacunae caused by the
disappearance of the letters of Galileo, which he wrote in answer to
those of his ever-cherished daughter.[244]
They would also show more clearly than any facts now available what an
unbounded influence the gentle nun had over the greatest intellect of
his time, and would, more clearly than anything in her correspondence,
exhibit Sister Celeste as the efficient co-worker and the abiding
inspirer of the father of modern physics and astronomy.
But, although we have no record of this soul-communion between father
and daughter on the occasion in question; although we are deprived of
the invaluable letters which he wrote in reply to hers, we are,
nevertheless, from the evidence at hand, justified in regarding this
unique pair as being ever one in heart, aspirations and ideals, and
comparable in their mutual influence on each other with any of those
famous men and women who, through achievement on the one side and
inspiration and collaboration on the other, have ever been recognized as
the greatest benefactors of their race.
One of Galileo's countrymen, G. B. Clemente de Nelli, was right when he
declared that, had it not been for the assistance and consolation which
he received from Sister Celeste, Galileo would have succumbed to the
blows that were showered upon him during the most trying part of his
career. An indication of this is given in one of the letters written by
Sister Celeste in the last year of her life.
While in a fit of despondency and imagining his friends had forgotten
him, Galileo, in a moment of bitterness, wrote in a letter to his
daughter: "My name is erased from the book of the living." "Nay," came
at once Sister Celeste's cheering reply, "say not that your name is
struck _de libro viventium_, for it is not so; neither in the greater
part of the world nor in your own country. Indeed, it seems to me that,
if for a brief moment your name and fame were clouded, they are now
restored to greater brightness, at which I am much astonished, for I
know that generally _Nemo propheta acceptus est in patria sua_. I am
afraid, however, if I begin quoting Latin, I shall fall into some
barbarism. But, of a truth, you are loved and esteemed here more than
ever."[245]
How much Sister Celeste was to her father in every way was not known
until after her premature death in her thirty-fourth year. He was never
the same man afterward. Disconsolate and broken, he fancied he heard the
voice of the daughter he so fondly loved resounding through the house.
Brooding over his great loss, the heart-broken old man writes to a
friend in words of infinite pathos, "_Mi sento continuamente chiamare
della mia diletta figlioula_--I continually hear myself called by my
dearly beloved daughter." The eighth of January, 1642, he answered her
call and went to join her in a better world.
Two other noted investigators, one of them a contemporary of Galileo,
owed much to the inspiration and encouragement which they received from
women. These were Descartes and Leibnitz. And the women that had the
most influence on them were representatives of royal families, who were
famous in their day for their love and knowledge and the extent of their
intellectual attainments.
One of the most noted of these was Elizabeth of Bohemia, Princess
Palatine. She was the favorite pupil of Descartes, and it was to her
that he dedicated his great work, _Principia Philosophiae_. She, he
declared, understood him better than any one else he had ever met, for
"in her alone were united those generally separated talents for
metaphysics and for mathematics which are so characteristically
operative in the Cartesian system."[246]
To this earnest student who was always absorbed in the mysteries of
metaphysics and the problems of geometry, Descartes could refuse
nothing. When distance separated them he continued his instructions by
correspondence. One of the results of this correspondence was his
treatise on _Passions de l'Ame_, in which he develops certain ethical
views suggested by the _Vita Beata_ of Seneca.
Another distinguished pupil of Descartes who exercised a marked
influence over him was the celebrated daughter of Gustavus Adolphus,
Queen Christine of Sweden. A mistress of many languages and an ardent
votary of science, she was a munificent patron of scientific men, a
great number of whom she had attracted to her court. The most
distinguished of these was Descartes, to whom she was deeply attached,
and with whom she had planned great things for science in Sweden, when
his career was cut short by a premature death.
Not the least influence on the intellectual life of Leibnitz was Sophia
Charlotte, Queen of Prussia and mother of Frederick the Great. She was
the niece of Descartes' illustrious friend, Elizabeth of Bohemia, and,
as the pupil of Leibnitz, quite as gloriously associated as had been her
aunt with the father of Cartesianism.
Leibnitz was as distinguished by genius as his royal pupil was by birth.
Besides being eminent as a philosopher and a statesman, he shared with
Newton the honor of discovering the calculus. Huxley pronounced him "a
man of science, in the modern sense, of the first rank," while the King
of Prussia declared of him, "He represents in himself a whole academy."
Through the cooperation of Sophia Charlotte he founded the Berlin
Academy of Sciences. For her he wrote one of the most notable of his
productions--his famed _Theodicy_.
It would be difficult to estimate the influence of this learned queen on
Leibnitz, but it was undoubtedly greater than any other single influence
whatever. Her death was the greatest loss he ever suffered, and when she
was no more, the beautiful Berlin suburb, Charlottenburg--named after
her--where he had been so happy in reading and philosophizing with his
illustrious pupil, lost all attraction for him.
A more striking illustration of woman's helpfulness is afforded in the
case of Francois Huber, the celebrated Swiss naturalist. Although blind
from his seventeenth year, he was able to carry on researches requiring
the keenest eyesight and the closest observation. This he was able to do
through the affectionate cooperation of his devoted wife, Marie Aimee.
When her friends tried to dissuade her from marrying Huber, to whom she
had been engaged for some time, saying he had become blind, her reply
was worthy of her generous and noble nature: "He then needs me more than
ever."
During the forty years of their married life her tenderness and devotion
to her husband were as unfailing as they were inspiring. He worked
through the eyes and hands of his wife as if they were his own. She was
his reader, his observer, his secretary, his enthusiastic collaborator
in all those investigations that have rendered him so famous. The blind
man devised the experiments to be made, and the quick-witted wife
executed them and recorded the observations which supplied the material
for his epoch-making work on bees, entitled _Nouvelles Observations sur
les Abeilles_. So accurate are his descriptions of the habits of the
winged creatures, to the study of which he devoted the best years of his
life, that one would think his great work was the production, not of a
man who had been blind for a quarter of a century, when he wrote it, but
of one who was gifted with exceptional keenness of vision and powers of
observation.
"As long as she lived," exclaimed the great naturalist after his trusty
Aimee's death, "I was not sensible of the misfortune of being blind."
Nay, more. During her lifetime, when, though sightless, he was always so
happy in his work, he went so far as to aver that he would be miserable
were he to recover his eyesight. "I should not know," he declared, "to
what an extent a person in my condition could be beloved. Besides, to
me, my wife is always young, fresh and pretty, which is no light
matter." He could truly say of her, as Wordsworth said of his sister
Dorothy,
"She gave me eyes, she gave me ears,
...*...*...*...*
And love and thought and joy."
We hear much of the achievements of Galvani and Faraday in the domain of
electricity and electromagnetism, but little is said of the women to
whom they were so greatly indebted for their success and fame.
It was Galvani's wife who first directed his attention to the
convulsions of a frog's leg when placed near an electrical machine. This
induced him to make those celebrated investigations which led to the
foundation of a new science which has ever since been identified with
his name.
It was Mrs. Marcet's works on science--especially her _Conversations on
Chemistry_--that inspired Faraday with a love of science and blazed for
him that road in chemical and physical experimentation which led to
such marvelous results. He was always proud to call her his first
teacher, and never hesitated to attribute to her that taste for
scientific research for which he became so preeminent. And it was his
devoted wife who was not only a helpmate but a soulmate as well for
nearly half a century, that had very much to do with the splendid
development of the germ which had been placed in his youthful mind by
Mrs. Marcet.
The same may likewise be asserted of the wives of two distinguished
geologists--Charles Lyell and Xavier Hommaire de Hell. Mrs. Lyell was
intimately associated with her husband in all his scientific
undertakings, and her ready intellect contributed immensely toward
securing for him that enviable position which he attained of being the
premier geologist of his century. Mme. Hommaire de Hell deserves special
mention in the history of geology for the invaluable assistance which
she gave her husband in the scientific exploration of the basin of the
Caspian Sea. Not only did she share his labors and perils in this then
wild part of the world, and collaborate with him in the preparation of
the report for which the French government conferred on him the Cross of
the Legion of Honor, but she also wrote unaided the two descriptive
volumes of their great work, _Steppes de la Mer Caspienne_. Her part of
this great undertaking received the special commendation of M.
Villemain, who was the minister of public instruction, and had she not
belonged to the disenfranchized sex, she, too, would have been decorated
with the Cross of the Legion of Honor.
All the world has heard of the daring explorations of Baker and
Livingstone in the Dark Continent, but how few are aware of the
important part taken in their great enterprises by their devoted and
heroic wives? Sir Samuel Baker immortalized himself by discovering Lake
Albert Nyanza, one of the main sources of the Nile, but in attaining
this goal, which other explorers had in vain essayed to reach, he was
not alone. The companion of his triumph, as of his trials and hardships,
was Lady Baker, a woman who, although delicately reared, was as brave in
presence of danger as she was resourceful in trials and difficulties.
More than once her husband owed his life to her intrepidity and presence
of mind, when confronted by the treacherous savages of equatorial
Africa; and, if he achieved success where others failed, it was in no
slight measure due to her tact, her energy and perseverance in what
seemed at times a forlorn hope. "She had learned Arabic with him in a
year of necessary but wearisome delay; her mind traveled with his mind
as her feet had followed his footsteps." And, when after preliminary
toils without number, after braving dangers from climate, disease and
ruthless savages, they finally stood on the shore of that unknown sea
which was then first beheld by English eyes, she could, in contemplating
their achievements of which Albert Nyanza was the crowning glory,
exclaim with exaltation and truth, "_Quorum pars magna fui._"
When Livingstone lost, in the unexplored valley of the Zambesi, the
faithful wife who had been his inspiring companion in his wanderings in
darkest Africa, he lost completely that enthusiasm for deeds of high
emprise that before had been one of his leading characteristics. Writing
to his distinguished friend, Sir Roderick Murchison, he mournfully
declares: "I must confess this heavy stroke quite takes the heart out of
me. Everything that has happened only made me more determined to
overcome all difficulties; but after this sad stroke I feel crushed and
void of strength.... I shall do my duty still, but it is with a darkened
horizon that I again set about it."
The noted English naturalist, Frank Buckland, in speaking of the aid
afforded by his gifted mother to her distinguished husband, Dr.
Buckland, writes as follows: "During the long period that Dr. Buckland
was engaged in writing the book which I now have the honor of editing,
my mother sat up night after night, for weeks and months consecutively,
writing to my father's dictation; and this often until the sun's rays,
shining through the shutters at early morn, warned the husband to cease
from thinking and the wife to rest her weary hand.
"Not only with the pen did she render material assistance, but her
natural talent in the use of her pencil enabled her to give accurate
illustrations and finished drawings, many of which are perpetuated in
Dr. Buckland's works. She was also particularly clever and neat in
mending broken fossils. There are many specimens in the Oxford Museum,
now exhibiting their natural forms and beauty, which were restored by
her perseverance to shape from a mass of broken and almost comminuted
fragments. It was her occupation also to label the specimens, which she
did in a particularly neat way; and there is hardly a fossil or a bone
in the Oxford Museum which has not her handwriting upon it.
"Notwithstanding her devotion to her husband's pursuits, she did not
neglect the education of her children, but occupied her mornings in
superintending their instruction in sound and useful knowledge. The
sterling value of her labors they now, in after life, fully appreciate,
and feel most thankful that they were blessed with so good a
mother."[247]
What has been said of the influence and cooperation of the women already
named may, with equal truth, be affirmed of numberless others of recent
as well as of earlier date. It is particularly true of the wife of the
naturalist Heller and of the great astronomer, Kepler. It is true of the
wife of the illustrious mathematician, the Marquis de l'Hopital. She not
only shared her husband's talent for mathematics, but was of special
assistance to him in preparing for the press his important _Analyse des
Infiniment Petits_. It is true of the wife of Asaph Hall, the
illustrious discoverer of the satellites of Mars. Often he was on the
point of abandoning the quest of these diminutive moons--which no one
had ever seen but which his calculations led him to believe really
existed--but he was encouraged by Mrs. Hall to continue his
observations, with the result that his labors and vigils were at last
rewarded by the startling discovery of Deimos and Phobos.
And there is Mme. Pasteur, who, in her way, was quite as important a
factor in the scientific career of her immortal husband as were the
women just mentioned in the lives of their husbands, to whose triumphs
they so materially contributed.
One of the great Frenchman's biographers has truly declared that "it is
impossible rightly to appreciate Pasteur's life without some
understanding of the immense assistance which he received in his home.
Whether in discussing forms of crystals, watching over experiments,
shielding her husband from all the daily fret of life, or busy at the
customary evening task of writing to his dictation, Madame Pasteur was
at once his most devoted assistant and incomparable companion. His
surroundings at home were entirely subordinated to his scientific life,
and his family shared with him both his trials and his triumphs. At the
time when Pasteur was engrossed with the study of anthrax, and, after
many difficulties and disappointments, had at length succeeded in
preparing a vaccine against it, he at once hurried from the laboratory
to communicate his great discovery first to his wife and daughter."[248]
It was particularly during his long and arduous researches on the
disease of silkworms that Pasteur found his wife's aid of incalculable
value. For Mme. Pasteur and her daughter then constituted themselves
veritable silkworm rearers. They collected mulberry leaves, sorted
larvae, and were unremitting in their labors during the continuance of
this memorable investigation. And not only in the silk-producing
districts of Southern France were they thus occupied, but also in a
special laboratory in Ecole Normale, after their return to Paris.
And, when in the midst of these researches, on the successful outcome of
which hinged one of the greatest sources of national wealth, the
indefatigable savant was stricken with paralysis and his life was for a
while despaired of, it was again his devoted helpmate that afforded him
solace in suffering and exercised a supervision over those experiments
which the great man was still conducting almost in the presence of
death.
That Pasteur's life was prolonged for a quarter of a century after the
terrible attack of hemiplegia in 1868, that he was able to unravel the
deep mysteries of microbian life, that he was able to make discoveries
whose economical value to France was, in the estimation of Professor
Huxley, more than sufficient to liquidate the immense indemnity of five
billion francs exacted from his country by Germany at the termination of
the Franco-Prussian war, that he was able, especially during these
fruitful twenty-five years, to render his "scientific life like a
luminous trail in the great night of the infinitely little in those
ultimate abysses of being where life is born," was, in great measure,
due to the unceasing care, the untiring vigilance and the sympathetic
collaboration of one of the most devoted of wives and most noble and
whole-souled of women.
What has been said of the influence and helpfulness of Mme. Pasteur can
be asserted with even greater truth of Elizabeth Agassiz and of Caroline
Herschel. For these two women, apart from the assistance they gave to a
loved husband and an idolized brother, in the labors that made them so
famous, both achieved distinction for their contributions to the
sciences which they individually cultivated with such splendid results.
And had they elected to devote all their time to scientific research,
instead of giving the greater part of it to those to whom they were so
devotedly attached, who can tell how much more brilliant would have been
their achievements and how much greater would have been the fame they
would have won for themselves. Both of them were dowered in an eminent
degree with taste and talent for science, and had they chosen to make it
the sole object of their life work, there can be no doubt that their
personal contributions to natural history and astronomy would have been
far greater than they were. As it was, they were so overshadowed by
those for whom they labored with such unselfishness and loyalty that the
real value of their work is too often forgotten when there is question
of the scientific triumphs of Louis Agassiz and Sir William Herschel.
But they willed it so. They gladly effaced themselves that those whom
they loved with such a deep and abiding love might shine the more
brightly in the firmament of science. They preferred to spend and be
spent in strengthening the great workers and leaders with whose lives
their own were so thoroughly identified--"Inspiring them with courage,
keeping faith in their own ideas alive, in days of darkness
'When all the world seems adverse to desert.'"
Both of these noble women had the same quality in common--absolute
devotion and unswerving faith in those to whose success and happiness
they had dedicated their lives. They sought nothing for themselves, they
thought nothing of themselves. They both had, to borrow the idea of
another, an intense power of sympathy, a generous love of giving
themselves to the service of others, which enabled them to transfuse the
force of their own personality into the objects to which they dedicated
their powers.
In the preface of the joint work of Mr. and Mrs. Agassiz entitled _A
Journey in Brazil_, that delightful volume which throws such a flood of
light on the fauna and flora of the Amazon valley, occur the following
significant words regarding the share each had in producing the book:
"Our separate contributions have become so closely interwoven that we
should hardly know how to disconnect them." So was it with all their
undertakings. There was the same common interest, the same unity of
purpose, the same unselfish devotion to the cause of science during
those long years of toil which were so prolific in results of supreme
importance. Reading between the lines in _A Journey in Brazil_, and in
_Louis Agassiz, His Life and Correspondence_, written by Mrs. Agassiz,
we can easily fancy that the great naturalist owed as much, if not more,
to his wife's never-failing sympathy and inspiration as to her active
cooperation in his work, and we are ready to apply to her the words of
Longfellow when he sings:
"And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song
Or tell a more wonderful tale."
As to Caroline Herschel as a helper and sustainer of her illustrious
brother, too much cannot be said. "In the days when he gave up a
lucrative career that he might devote himself to astronomy, it was owing
to her thrift and care that he was not harassed by the rankling
vexations of money matters. She had been his helper and assistant when
he was a leading musician; she became his helper and assistant when he
gave himself up to astronomy. By sheer force of will and devoted
affection she learned enough of mathematics and of methods of
calculation, which to those unlearned seem mysteries, to be able to
commit to writing his researches. She became his assistant in the
workshop; she helped him to grind and polish his mirrors; she stood
beside his telescope in the nights of midwinter, to write down his
observations when the very ink was frozen in the bottle. She kept him
alive by her care; thinking nothing of herself, she lived for him. She
loved him and believed in him, and helped him with all her heart and
with all her strength. She might have become a distinguished woman on
her own account, for with the seven-foot Newtonian sweeper given her by
her brother she discovered eight comets first and last. But the pleasure
of seeking and finding for herself was scarcely tested. She 'minded the
heavens' for her brother; she worked for him, not for herself, and the
unconscious self-denial with which she gave up 'her own pleasure in the
use of her sweeper' is not the least beautiful picture in her
life."[249]
While recounting the achievements of women who directly or indirectly
contributed to our knowledge of the earth and what it contains we cannot
forget what the world owes to the gracious and glorious Isabella of
Castile. For it is to her probably as much as to Columbus that a new
continent was discovered at the close of the fifteenth century. For,
while the doctors of Salamanca--most of whom were what Galileo called
"paper philosophers," men who fancied that a correct knowledge of the
physical universe was to be obtained by a collation of ancient
texts--were denouncing the great navigator as an idle dreamer, and
quoting the ill-founded notions of Pliny and Aristotle to prove the
impossibility of his carrying out his project, Isabella was quietly
revolving in her own mind the reasons which Columbus had adduced in
favor of his great enterprise. Having satisfied herself that his views
were sufficiently probable to justify action, she was prepared to make
any sacrifices to have his plans executed. The result of her decision is
but another illustration of the value of woman's quick intuition, as
against the slow reasoning processes of philosophers and men of science.
Again, while considering what women have accomplished for the
advancement of science by inspiration and collaboration, we must not
lose sight of what they have done by suggestion. For, as John Stuart
Mill well observes: "It no doubt often happens that a person who has not
widely and accurately studied the thoughts of others on a subject has by
natural sagacity a happy intuition which he can suggest but cannot
prove, which yet, when matured, may be an important addition to
knowledge: but, even then, no justice can be done to it until some other
person, who does possess the previous acquirements, takes it in hand,
tests it, gives it a scientific or practical form, and fits it into its
place among the existing truths of philosophy or science. Is it supposed
that such felicitous thoughts do not occur to women? They occur by
hundreds to every woman of intellect; but they are mostly lost for want
of a husband or friend who has the other knowledge which can enable him
to estimate them properly and bring them before the world; and, even
when they are brought before it, they usually appear as his ideas, not
their real author's. Who can tell how many of the original thoughts put
forth by male writers belong to a woman by suggestion, to themselves
only by verifying and working out? If I may judge by my own case, a very
large proportion indeed."[250]
Nor should we forget those active and energetic women--and their number
is much greater than is ordinarily supposed--whose husbands, although
often endowed with genius of the highest order, were indolent by
temperament and disorderly and unmethodical by nature. Such men would,
in the majority of cases, have run to seed had not their genius been
given special force and impulse by their vigorous and methodical
helpmates. Sir William Hamilton, the most learned philosopher of the
Scottish school, is a striking instance in point; for it was due almost
entirely to the stimulation he received from his ever active wife that
he was always kept keyed up to his fullest working capacity as a
philosopher and became recognized the world over as one of the
commanding intellects of his age.
"Lady Hamilton," writes Professor Veitch in his _Memoir of Sir William
Hamilton,_ "had a power of keeping her husband up to what he had to do.
She contended wisely against a sort of energetic indolence which
characterized him, and which, while he was always laboring, made him apt
to put aside the task actually before him, sometimes diverted by
subjects of inquiry suggested in the course of study on the matter in
hand, sometimes discouraged by the difficulty of reducing to order the
immense mass of materials he had accumulated in connection with it.
Then her resolution and cheerful disposition sustained and refreshed
him, and never more so than when, during the last twelve years of his
life, his bodily strength was broken and his spirit, though languid, yet
ceased not from mental toil. The truth is that Sir William's marriage,
his comparatively limited circumstances, and the character of his wife
supplied to a nature that would have been contented to spend its mighty
energies in work that brought no reward but in the doing of it, and that
might never have been made publicly known or available, the practical
force and impulse which enabled him to accomplish what he actually did
in literature and philosophy. It was this influence, without doubt,
which saved him from utter absorption in his world of rare, noble and
elevated but ever-increasingly unattainable ideas. But for it the serene
sea of abstract thought might have held him becalmed for life; and, in
the absence of all utterance of definite knowledge of his conclusions,
the world might have been left to an ignorant and mysterious wonder
about the unprofitable scholar."[251]
What has been so far said, important as it is, does not tell the whole
story of woman's influence on men of science, and consequently on the
progress of science. We should not have an adequate conception of women
as inspirers and collaborators if we did not advert to certain faculties
which they usually possess in a more eminent degree than the most of
men. It is a well-known fact that in many of the affairs of life women
are more practical, have more tact, and possess keener and quicker
perceptions than men. They are, too, more ideal, more romantic and more
enthusiastic.
Men of science in their investigations usually proceed by the slow and
laborious process of collecting facts and collating phenomena, either by
observation or experiment, or both, and, from the observed facts and
phenomena, they formulate a law which explains and correlates them. This
is known as induction, a method which proceeds from facts to ideas.
Women, on the contrary, are rather disposed to proceed from ideas to
facts; to explain phenomena from ideas which already exist in the mind,
without having recourse to the slow process of induction. This is the
deductive method, and is the very reverse of that employed by the
average man of science. It would, however, be a mistake to maintain that
the inductive method is always employed, for such is not the case. More
than a half a century ago the historian, Buckle, in a notable lecture
delivered in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, directed attention
to the fact that some of the greatest scientific discoveries had been
made by the deductive method.
One of these was Newton's epoch-making discovery of universal
gravitation. While sitting in a garden he saw an apple fall, and this
simple fact caused him to advance from idea to idea, and to be carried,
by what Tyndall loved to call "the scientific use of the imagination,"
into the distant realms of space. And, heedless of the operations of
nature, neither observing nor experimenting, the great philosopher, by
pure _a priori_ reasoning, "completed the most sublime and majestic
speculation that it ever entered into the heart of man to conceive." "It
was," as Buckle well observes, "the triumph of an idea. It was the
audacity of genius." It was also the triumph of the deductive method in
the solution of a problem that one not a genius could have worked out
only by the long and toilsome process of induction.
Similarly, the great law of metamorphosis in plants, "according to which
the stamens, pistils, corollas, bracts, petals and so forth, of every
plant, are simply modified leaves," was discovered not by an inductive
investigator, but by a poet. "Guided by his brilliant imagination, his
passion for beauty and his exquisite conception of form which supplied
him with ideas," Germany's greatest poet, Goethe, by reasoning
deductively, was able to generalize a law which lesser minds could never
have arrived at except through the application of the inductive method.
So also was it in the science of crystallography. Its foundations were
laid, not by a mineralogist nor a mathematician, as one would suppose,
but by one of strong imagination and marked poetic temperament. Like
Goethe, Hauey was led by his ideas of beauty and symmetry to work
deductively on the problem before him. Descending from ideas to facts,
he finally succeeded, after a long series of subsequent labors, in
reading "the riddle which had baffled his able but unimaginative
predecessors."
It is the possession of this deductive faculty, so characteristic of men
of genius--their ability to reach conclusions directly, as great
mathematicians perceive inferences which those less gifted reach only
after pages of elaborate calculations--which enable women, "not indeed
to make scientific discoveries, but to exercise the most momentous and
salutary influence over the method by which scientific discoveries are
made." For, as Buckle points out, men of science are too inclined to
employ the inductive method to the exclusion of the deductive.[252] They
have become slaves to the tyranny of facts, and, as such, are
incompetent to further the progress of science as they would by using
both methods instead of one. And their slavery would be still more
complete and ignominious were it not for the great though unconscious
service to science rendered by women who have kept alive the deductive
habit of thought. "Their turn of thought, their habits of mind, their
conversation, their influence, insensibly extending over the whole
surface of society and frequently penetrating its intimate structure,
have, more than all other things put together, tended to raise us up
into an ideal world, lift us from the dust in which we are too prone to
grovel, and develop in us those germs of imagination which even the most
sluggish and apathetic understandings in some degree possess."
From the foregoing observations it is manifest that the best results to
science are secured when men and women work together--men supplying the
slow, logical reasoning power, women the vivid, far-reaching
imagination; men generalizing from facts, women from ideas; men working
chiefly by induction, women principally by deduction. For thus
collaborating, each with his or her predominant faculties, the two
combined possess in a measure the elements which go to make up a man or
woman of genius and which enable them to achieve far more for the
advancement of science than would otherwise be possible.
No one has ever given more eloquent expression to this truth than John
Stuart Mill, who was as keen as an observer as he was profound as a
thinker. Writing on the subject under discussion, he does not hesitate
to say: "Hardly anything can be of greater value to a man of theory and
speculation who employs himself, not in collecting materials of
knowledge by observation, but in working them up by processes of thought
into comprehensive truths of science and laws of conduct, than to carry
on his speculations in the companionship and under the criticism of a
really superior woman. There is nothing comparable to it for keeping his
thoughts within the limits of real things and the actual facts of
nature. A woman seldom runs wild after an abstraction.... Women's
thoughts are thus as useful in giving reality to those of thinking men
as men's thoughts in giving width and largeness to those of women. In
depth, as distinguished from breadth, I greatly doubt if even now women,
compared with men, are at any disadvantage."[253]
We have already learned, from his own avowal, how much Mill was beholden
to his wife for her active cooperation in the production of those works
of his which have exerted so profound an influence on many phases of
modern thought. A more striking illustration of the value of woman's
assistance, but in the domain of biology, is found in the biography of
the late Professor Huxley. By those who know this distinguished man of
science--so remarkable for his intellectual vigor--only from his
writings, the impression would be gleaned that he was one of the most
independent of thinkers, and that his utterances on all subjects were
absolutely personal and entirely unmodified by suggestion or criticism
from any quarter.
How far this view is from being correct is found in the statement by his
son that his father "invariably submitted his writings to the criticism
of his wife before they were seen by any other eye. To her judgment was
due the toning down of many a passage which erred by excess of vigor,
and the clearing up of phrases which would be obscure to the public. In
fact, if any essay met with her approval, he felt sure it would not fail
of its effect when published."[254] She was not only his "help and stay
for forty years; in his struggles ready to counsel, in adversity to
comfort," but, over and above this, she was "the critic whose judgment
he valued above almost any, and whose praise he cared most to win"--the
other self who made his life work possible.[255]
An intelligent, sympathetic pair of this kind--and this, as we have
seen, is but one of a multitude which illuminates and beautifies the
history of science--are competent to achieve wonders. They are like "the
two-celled heart beating with one full stroke"--
"Two plummets dropt for one to sound the abyss
Of science, and the secrets of the mind."
The woman is then truly, as De Lamennais in Scriptural phrases has it,
"Man's companion, man's assistant, bone of his bone and flesh of his
flesh," and, in her sublime and endearing character so complete in every
relation of life, she fully answers to the beautiful characterization
which Adam, in _Paradise Lost_, gives of his beloved Eve:
"So absolute she seems,
And in herself complete, so well to know
Her own, that what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuosest, discreetest, best.
...*...*...*...*
Authority and reason on her wait,
...*...*...*...*
* * * and, to consummate all,
Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe
About her, as a guard angelic plac'd."
FOOTNOTES:
[233] Sis oppido meminens quod olim Martia Hortensio, Terentia Tullio,
Calpurnia Plinio, Pudentilla Apuleio, Rusticana Symmacho legentibus
meditantibusque candelas and candelabra tenuerunt. Lib. II, Epist. 10.
[234] "Verum hoc--seu gratitudini seu ineptiae ascribendum--non sileo, me
quantulucunque conspicis, per illam esse, nec unquam ad hoc, si quid est
nominis aut gloriae fuisse venturum, nisi virtutum tenuissman sementem,
quasi pectore in hoc natura locaverat, nobilissimis his affectibus
coluisset." Francisci Petrarchae, _Colloquiorum Liber quem Secretum Suum
Inscripsit_, pp. 105-106, Berne, 1603.
In his canzone beginning with the words _Perche la vita e breve_,
Petrarch declares to his inspirer--
"Thus if in me is nurst
Any good fruit, from you the seed came first;
To you, if such appear, the praise is due,
Barren myself till fertilized by you."
[235] _The Life of St. Francis of Assisi_, by Paul Sabatier, p. 166, New
York, 1894.
[236] Ibid., p. 167.
[237] Ibid., p. 307.
[238] _The Women of the Renaissance_, p. 394, New York, 1901.
[239] _Women of Florence_, by Isodoro del Lungo, p. xxvii, London, 1907.
[240] This passage from the dedication is so important that I reproduce
the Latin original: "Omnino vitam, aut, si quid mihi carius est, vobis
autem debeo, tibi autem, o diva Melusinis, omne presertim Mathematicis
studium, ad quod me excitavit tum tuus in earn amor, tum summa artis
illius, quam tenes, peritia, immo vero nunquam satis admiranda in tuo
tamque regii et nobilis generis sexu Encyclopaedia." _Francois Viete,
Inventeur de l'Algebre Moderne_, p. 20, par Frederic Ritter, Paris,
1895.
[241] "E nell' amore della figlia il grande astronomo trovo non soltanto
un conforto a suoi affanni, ma anche una guida benefica alla quale
sembro egli abandonarsi con cieca tenerezza figliale." _La Storia del
Feminismo_, p. 509, by G. L. Arrighi, Florence, 1911.
[242] _Galileo Galilei e Suor Celeste_, by Antonio Favaro, p. 256 et
seq., Florence, 1891.
[243] An English writer, discussing this subject, pertinently observes:
"For, after all, is it not the personal incidents and commonplaces of
life that gather interest as the centuries roll on, while its more
pretentious events often drop into mere literary lumber? How much more
interesting Dr. Johnson's incidental admission, 'I have a strong
inclination, Sir, to do nothing to-day,' is to us now than many of his
more formal utterances. And, in reality, is it the personal element
alone that is in the long run perennial? The wise may prate as they will
about the importance of maintaining the continuity of history and of
handing on the torch of science. The world cares for none of these
things; they interest only some few political economists and laborious
men. What does the crowd and poor little Tom Jones and his nestful, for
instance, care about the fact that Cheops was--at any rate by courteous
tradition--a mighty man of valor of such an era and land? But little Tom
Jones and the rest of us would become mightily interested in this misty
monster of many traditions, could we learn in some magical way all he
thought, hated and loved in his inmost heart of hearts." _The National
Review_, p. 461, June, 1889.
[244] The Duke of Peiresc, in a letter to Gassendi, regarding Galileo,
refers to certain letters--tres belles epistres--of the great
philosopher, "a une sienne fille religieuse sur le sujet mesme des
matieres traictees en son dernier livre." This shows that Sister Celeste
was kept fully informed by her father respecting the nature and contents
of his various works while he was preparing them for the press. It
implies, likewise, that she was not only interested in them in a general
way, but that she was able to read them intelligently and appreciate
them as well.
How fondly Galileo treasured the letters written him by this daughter of
predilection is made known to us by Sister Celeste herself, when she
tells him in one of her letters "Resto confusa sentendo ch'ella conservi
le mie lettere, e dubito che il grande affeto que mi porta gliele
dimonstri piu compita di quello che sono." Op. cit., p. 317.
[245] Op. cit., p. 404.
[246] In the dedication of his _Principles of Philosophy_ he addresses
his young friend and pupil in the following words: "Je puis dire avec
verite que je ne jamais rencontre que le seul esprit de votre altesse
auquel l'un et l'autre"--metaphysics and mathematics--"fut egalement
facile; ce qui fait quo j'ai une tres juste raison de l'estimer
incomparable."
[247] _Geology and Mineralogy Considered with Reference to Natural
Theology_, by William Buckland, p. xxxvi, London, 1858.
[248] _Pasteur_, by Mr. and Mrs. Percy Frankland, p. 26 et seq., London,
1898. A French writer referring to this happy discovery expresses
himself as follows: "Quand Pasteur trouva le vaccin de charbon, il
remonta triomphant de son laboratoire et les larmes lui vinrent aux yeux
en embrassant sa femme et sa fille auxquelles annoncait sa victoire."
_Revue Encyclopedique_, p. 20, Jan. 15, 1895.
[249] _Memoir and Correspondence of Caroline Herschel_, London, 1879,
pp. vi and vii, by Mrs. John Herschel. Cf. Chap. IV of this Vol.
[250] _The Subjection of Women_, pp. 98, 99, London, 1909.
The idea herein expressed is beautifully accentuated in the touching
dedication to the author's work On Liberty, which reads as follows:
"To the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer, and in
part the author, of all that is best in my writings--the friend and wife
whose exalted sense of truth and right was my strongest incitement, and
whose approbation was my chief reward--I dedicate this volume. Like all
that I have written for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me;
but the work as it stands has had, in a very insufficient degree, the
inestimable advantage of her revision, some of the most important
portions having been reserved for a more careful re-examination, which
they are now never destined to receive. Were I but capable of
interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts and noble feelings
which are buried in her grave, I should be the medium of a greater
benefit to it than is ever likely to arise from anything I can write,
unprompted and unassisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom."
The chivalrous sentiments expressed in this generous tribute by one of
the deepest thinkers of his time, to the memory of his noble and gifted
life-companion, extravagant as they may seem, are but echoes of similar
sentiments often voiced before by the world's greatest leaders of
thought and science.
[251] _Memoir of Sir William Hamilton_, by John Veitch, p. 136 et seq.,
Edinburgh, 1869.
It is frequently said that women, unlike men, are indifferent to fame.
This may be true so far as they are personally concerned; but it is
certainly not true of them in regard to their husbands, or the men for
whom they have a genuine affection. This is abundantly proved by the
lives of Mme. Huber, Mme. Pasteur, Caroline Herschel and Lady Hamilton,
not to name others who have been mentioned in the foregoing pages. After
Sir William Hamilton, at the age of fifty-six, had been stricken by
hemiplegia on the right side, as the result of over-work, his faithful
wife became for twelve years eyes, hands and even mind for him. She read
and consulted books for him, and helped him to prepare his lectures and
the works which have given him such celebrity. "Everything that was sent
to the press and all the courses of lectures were written by her, either
to dictation or from copy." And when we remember that the lectures and
books were of the most abstruse character and that Lady Hamilton was
associated with her husband in his recondite work throughout his long
and brilliant career, we must confess that her conduct was not only
heroic to a degree, but also that the fame of the one she loved was to
her a matter of the deepest concern.
[252] "Induction is, indeed, a mighty weapon laid up in the armory of
the human mind, and by its aid great deeds have been accomplished and
noble conquests have been won. But in that armory there is another
weapon, I will not say of stronger make, but certainly of keener edge;
and, if that weapon had been oftener used during the present and
preceding century, our knowledge would be far more advanced than it
actually is. If the imagination had been more cultivated, if there had
been a closer union between the spirit of poetry and the spirit of
science, natural philosophy would have made greater progress, because
natural philosophers would have taken a higher and more successful aim,
and would have enlisted on their side a wider range of human
sympathies." Buckle: _The Influence of Women on the Progress of
Knowledge_.
[253] _The Subjection of Women_, ut sup., p. 87.
[254] _Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley_, by his son Leonard
Huxley, Vol. I, p. 324, New York, 1900.
[255] Ibid., p. 39, Vol. II, p. 458.