CHAPTER VI

THE STRUGGLE FOR MEANS TO WORK. THE

BURDEN OF CELEBRITY. THE FIRST ASSISTANCE

FROM THE STATE. IT COMES TOO LATE

In spite of our desire to concentrate our entire effort on the work in

which we were engaged, and in spite of the fact that our needs were so

modest, we were forced to recognize, toward 1900, that some increase in

our income was indispensable. Pierre Curie had few illusions about his

chances of obtaining an important chair in the University of Paris,

which would, even though it meant no large salary, have sufficed for the

small needs of our family, and enabled us to live without a

supplementary revenue. Since he was neither a graduate of the Normal

School nor of the Polytechnic, he lacked the support, often decisive,

which these big schools give their pupils; and the posts to which he

might justly have aspired, because of his achievements, were given to

others, without anyone's even thinking of him as a possible candidate.

At the beginning of 1898, he asked, without success, for the Chair of

Physical Chemistry left vacant by the death of Salet, and this failure

convinced him that he had no chance of advancement. He was appointed,

however, in March, 1900, to the position of assistant professor

(_répétiteur_) in the Polytechnic School, but he kept his post only

six months.

In the spring of 1900, there came an unexpected offer, that of the Chair

of Physics in the University of Geneva. The doyen of that University

made the invitation in the most cordial manner, and insisted that the

University was ready to make an exceptional effort to secure a scientist

of such high repute. The advantages of this position were that the

salary was larger than the average one, that it carried the promise of

the development of a Physics Laboratory adequate to our needs, and that

an official position for me would be provided in this laboratory. Such a

proposition merited a most careful consideration, so we made a visit to

the University of Geneva, where our reception was the most encouraging

possible.

This was a grave decision for us to make. Geneva presented material

advantages, and the opportunity of a life comparable in its tranquillity

with that in the country. Pierre Curie was, therefore, tempted to

accept, and it was only our immediate interest in our researches in

radium that made him finally decide not to. He feared the interruption

of our investigations which such a change must involve.

At this moment the Chair of Physics in the physics, chemistry and

natural history course at the Sorbonne, obligatory for students of

medicine, and familiarly known as P.C.N., was vacant; he applied, and

was appointed, due to the influence of Henri Poincaré, who was anxious

to free him from the necessity of quitting France. At the same time I

was given charge of the physics lectures in the Normal School for Girls

at Sèvres.

So we remained in Paris, and with our income increased. But we were at

the same time working under increasingly difficult conditions. Pierre

Curie was doing double teaching; and that in the P.C.N., with its very

large number of students, fatigued him greatly. As for myself, I had to

give much time to the preparation of my lectures at Sèvres, and to the

organization of the laboratory work there, which I found very

insufficient.

Moreover, Pierre Curie's new position did not bring with it a

laboratory; a little office and a single work room were all that he had

at his disposition in the annex (12 rue Cuvier) of the Sorbonne, which

served as teaching quarters for the P.C.N. And yet he felt it absolutely

necessary to go ahead with his own work. In fact, the rapid extension of

his investigations in radioactivity had made him determine that in his

new position at the Sorbonne he would receive students and start them in

research. He therefore took steps to find larger available working

quarters. Those who have taken similar steps realize the wall of

financial and administrative obstacles against which he was throwing

himself, and realize the large number of official letters, visits, and

of requests the least success entailed. All this thoroughly wearied and

discouraged Pierre Curie. He was obliged, too, constantly, to keep

traveling back and forth between the laboratories of the P.C.N. and the

hangar of the School of Physics where we still continued our work.

And besides these difficulties, we found that we could not make further

progress without the aid of industrial means of treating our raw

material. Fortunately certain expedients and generous assistance solved

this question.

As early as 1899 Pierre Curie succeeded in organizing a first industrial

experiment, using for it a chance installation placed at his disposition

by the Central Society of Chemical Products, with which he had had

relations in connection with the construction of his balances. The

technical details had been arranged very successfully by André

Debierne, and the operations brought good results, even though it had

been necessary to train a special personnel for this chemical work which

demanded special precautions.

Our investigations had started a general scientific movement, and

similar work was being undertaken in other countries. Toward these

efforts Pierre Curie maintained a most disinterested and liberal

attitude. With my agreement he refused to draw any material profit from

our discovery. We took no copyright, and published without reserve all

the results of our research, as well as the exact processes of the

preparation of radium. In addition, we gave to those interested whatever

information they asked of us. This was of great benefit to the radium

industry, which could thus develop in full freedom, first in France,

then in foreign countries, and furnish to scientists and to physicians

the products which they needed. This industry still employs to-day, with

scarcely any modifications, the processes indicated by us.[9]

Even though our industrial experiment yielded good results, again our

slender resources made it difficult to make further progress. Inspired

by our attempt, a French industrial, Armet de Lisle, had the idea, which

seemed daring at that epoch, of founding a veritable radium factory that

would furnish this product to physicians, whose interest in the

biological effects of radium and its possible therapeutic applications

had been aroused by the publication of various investigations. The

project proved a success because he could employ men already trained by

us in the delicate processes of this manufacture. Radium was then

regularly placed on sale, at a high price, it is true, because of the

special conditions under which it had to be made, and because, too, of

the immediate rise in the cost of the minerals necessary to its

production.[10]

I should like to express, here, our appreciation of the spirit in which

Armet de Lisle offered to cooperate with us. In an entirely

disinterested manner he placed at our disposition a little working place

in his factory and a part of the means necessary for us to use it. Other

funds were added either by ourselves, or came through subventions, of

which the most important, accorded in 1902 by the Academy of Sciences,

amounted to 20,000 francs.

It was in this way that we were able to utilize the ore we had acquired

little by little in the preparation of a certain quantity of radium,

which we used constantly in our research. The radium-bearing barium was

extracted in the factory, and I carried on its purification and

fractional crystallization in the laboratory. In 1902 I succeeded in

preparing a decigramme of chloride of pure radium which gave only the

spectrum of the new element, radium. I made a first determination of the

atomic weight of this new element, an atomic weight much higher than

that of barium. Thus the chemical individuality of radium was completely

established, and the reality of radioelements was a known fact about

which there could be no further controversy.

I based my doctor's thesis, presented in 1903, on these investigations.

Later, the quantity of radium extracted for the laboratory was

increased, and in 1907 I was able to make a second and more precise

determination of the atomic weight as 225.35--one accepts now the number

226. I succeeded, too, jointly with André Debierne, in obtaining radium

in the state of metal. The total quantity of radium I prepared and gave

to the laboratory, in agreement with Pierre Curie's desire, amounted to

more than a gramme of radium element.

The activity of pure radium exceeded all our expectations. For equal

weights this substance emits a radiation more than a million times more

intense than uranium. To offset this, the quantity of radium contained

in uranium minerals is scarcely more than three decigrammes of radium to

the ton of uranium. There is a very close relation between these two

substances. In fact, we know to-day that radium is produced in the

minerals at the expense of uranium.

The years that followed his nomination to the P.C.N. were hard for

Pierre Curie. He had to face the many anxieties incident to the

organization of a complicated system of work when his happiness depended

on his being able to concentrate his efforts on a single determined

subject. The physical fatigue due to the numerous courses he was obliged

to give was so great that he suffered from attacks of acute pain, which

in his overtaxed condition became more and more frequent.

It was therefore vitally important, if he was to spare his energy and

keep his health, that the burden of his professional duties be

lightened. He decided to apply for the Chair of Mineralogy, which was

vacant, at the Sorbonne, for which he was entirely qualified because of

his profound knowledge and his important publications on the theories of

the physics of crystals. Yet his candidacy failed.

During this painful period he nevertheless managed, by a truly

superhuman effort, successfully to complete and publish several

investigations that he had made either alone or in collaboration:

Investigations on induced radioactivity (in collaboration

with A. Debierne).

Investigations on the same subject (in collaboration

with J. Danne).

Investigations on the conductibility provoked in

dielectric liquids by the rays of radium and the

Roentgen rays.

Investigations on the law of the decrease of the

emanation of radium and on the radioactive

constants that characterize this emanation and

its active deposit.

Discovery of the liberation of heat produced by

radium (in collaboration with A. Laborde).

Investigations on the diffusion of the emanation of

radium in the air (in collaboration with J.

Danne).

Investigation on the radioactivity of gases from

thermal springs (in collaboration with A.

Laborde).

Investigation on the physiological effects of

radium rays (in common with Henri Becquerel).

Investigation on the physiological action of the

radium emanation (in common with Bouchard

and Balthazard).

Notes on the apparatus for the determination of

magnetic constants (in common with C. Cheneveau).

All these investigations in radioactivity are fundamental and touch very

varied subjects. Several have as their aim the study of the emanation,

that strange gaseous body that radium produces and which is largely

responsible for the intense radiation commonly attributed to the radium

itself. Pierre Curie demonstrated by a searching examination the

rigorous and invariable law according to which the emanation destroys

itself, no matter what the conditions are in which it finds itself.

To-day the emanation of radium, harvested in tiny phials, is commonly

employed by physicians as a therapeutic agent. Technical considerations

make its employment preferable to the direct use of radium, and in this

case no physician can proceed without consulting the numerical chart

which tells how much of this emanation has disappeared each day, despite

the fact that it is cloistered in its little glass prison. It is this

same emanation that is found in small quantities in mineral waters, and

that plays a part in their curative effects.

More striking still was the discovery of the discharge of heat from

radium. Without any alteration in appearance this substance releases

each hour a quantity of heat sufficient to melt its own weight of ice.

When well protected against this external loss, radium heats itself. Its

temperature can rise 10 degrees or more above that of the surrounding

atmosphere. This defied all contemporary scientific experience.

Finally, I cannot pass in silence, because of their various

repercussions, the experiments connected with the physiological effects

of radium.

In order to test the results that had just been announced by F. Giesel,

Pierre Curie voluntarily exposed his arm to the action of radium during

several hours. This resulted in a lesion resembling a burn, that

developed progressively and required several months to heal. Henri

Becquerel had by accident a similar burn as a result of carrying in his

vest pocket a glass tube containing radium salt. He came to tell us of

this evil effect of radium, exclaiming in a manner at once delighted and

annoyed: "I love it, but I owe it a grudge!"

Since he realized the interest in these physiological effects of radium,

Pierre Curie undertook, in collaboration with physicians, the

investigations to which I have just referred, submitting animals to the

action of radium emanation. These studies formed the point of departure

in radium therapy. The first attempts at treatment with radium were made

with products loaned by Pierre Curie, and had as their object the cure

of lupus and other skin lesions. Thus radium therapy, an important

branch of medicine, and frequently designated as _Curietherapie_, was

born in France, and was developed first through the investigations of

French physicians (Danlos, Oudin, Wickham, Dominici, Cheron, Degrais,

and others).[11]

In the meantime the great impetus given to the study of radioactivity

abroad led to a rapid succession of new discoveries. Many scientists

engaged in the search for other radio elements, using the new method of

chemical analysis, with the aid of radiation, that we had inaugurated.

Thus were found the mesothorium now used by physicians and manufactured

industrially, radio-thorium, ionium, protoactinium, radio-lead, and

other substances. At present we know, in all, about thirty radio

elements (among which three are gases, or emanations), but among them

all radium still plays the most important part, because of the great

intensity of its radiation, which diminishes only extremely slowly

during the course of years.

The year 1903 was especially important in the development of the new

science. In this year the investigation of radium, the new chemical

element, was achieved, and Pierre Curie demonstrated the astonishing

discharge of heat by this element, which nevertheless remained unaltered

in appearance. In England, Ramsay and Soddy announced a great discovery.

They proved that radium continually produces helium gas and under

conditions that force one to believe in an atomic transformation. If,

indeed, radium salt heated to its melting point is confined for some

time in a sealed glass tube, entirely emptied of air, one can, in

reheating it, make it throw off a small quantity of helium, easy to

measure and to recognize from the character of its spectrum. This

fundamental experiment has received numerous confirmations. It furnished

us the first example of a transformation of atoms, independent, it is

true, of our will, but at the same time it reduces to nothing the theory

of the absolute fixity of the atomic edifice.

All these facts, along with others formerly known, were made the object

of a synthesis of the highest value, in a work by E. Rutherford and F.

Soddy, who proposed a theory of radioactive transformations, to-day

universally adopted. According to this theory, each radio element, even

when it appears unchanged, is undergoing a spontaneous transformation,

and the more rapid the transformation, the more intense is the

radiation.[12]

A radioactive atom can transform itself in two ways: it can expel from

itself an atom of helium, which, thrown off at an enormous speed and

with a positive charge, constitutes an Alpha ray. Or, instead, it can

detach from its structure a much smaller fragment, one of those

electrons to which we have become accustomed in modern physics, and

whose mass, 1800 times smaller than that of an atom of hydrogen when its

speed is moderate, grows excessively when its speed approaches that of

light. These electrons, which carry a negative charge, form the Beta

rays. Whatever the detached fragment, the residual atom no longer

resembles the primitive atom. Thus when the atom of radium has expelled

an atom of helium, the residue is an atom of gaseous emanation. This

residue changes in its turn, and the process is not arrested until the

attainment of a last residue which is stable and does not give off any

radiation. This stable matter is inactive matter.

Thus the Alpha and Beta rays result from the fragmentation of atoms.

Gamma-rays are a radiation analogous to light, which accompanies the

cataclysm of the atomic transformation. They are very penetrating, and

are the ones most used in the therapeutic methods so far developed.[13]

We can see in all this that radio elements form families, in which each

member derives from a preceding member by direct descent the primary

elements being uranium and thorium. We can in particular prove that

radium is a descendant of uranium, and that polonium is a descendant of

radium. Since each radio element, at the same time that it is formed by

the mother substance, destroys itself, it cannot accumulate in the

presence of this mother substance beyond a determined proportion, which

explains why the relation between radium and uranium remains constant in

the very ancient unaltered minerals.

The spontaneous destruction of radio elements takes place according to a

fundamental law, called the _exponential law_, according to which the

quantity of each radio element diminishes by one-half in a time always

the same, called a period, this time-period making it possible to

determine without ambiguity the element under consideration. These

periods, which can be measured by diverse methods, vary greatly. The

period of uranium is several billions of years; that of radium is about

1600 years; that of its emanation a little less than four days; and

there are among the following descendants some whose period is the small

fraction of a second. The exponential law has a profound philosophic

bearing; it indicates that the transformation is produced according to

the laws of probability. The causes that determine the transformation

are a mystery to us, and we do not yet know if they derive from causal

conditions outside the atom, or from conditions of internal instability.

In many cases, up to the present, no exterior action has shown itself

effective in influencing the transformation.

This rapid succession of discoveries which overthrew familiar scientific

conceptions long held in physics and chemistry did not fail to meet, at

first, with doubts and incredulity. But the great part of the scientific

world received them with enthusiasm. At the same time Pierre Curie's

fame grew in France and in foreign countries. Already in 1901 the

Academy of Sciences had awarded him the Lacaze prize. In 1902, Mascart,

who had many times given him most valuable aid, decided to propose him

as a member of the Academy of Sciences. It was not easy for Pierre Curie

to agree to this, believing, as he did, that the Academy should elect

its members without the necessity of any preliminary solicitation or

paying of calls. Nevertheless, because of the friendly insistence of

Mascart, and above all because the Physics Section of the Academy had

already declared itself unanimously in his favor, he presented himself.

In spite of this, however, he failed of election, and it was only in

1905 that he became a member of the Institute, a membership which did

not last even a year. He was also elected to several academies and

scientific societies in other countries, and given an honorary doctor's

degree by several universities.

During 1903 we went to London at the invitation of the Royal

Institution, before which my husband was to lecture on radium. On this

occasion he had a most enthusiastic reception. He was especially happy

to see here again Lord Kelvin, who had always expressed an affection for

him, and who, despite his advanced age, preserved an interest,

perennially young, in science. The illustrious scientist showed, with

touching satisfaction, a glass vial containing a grain of radium salt

that Pierre Curie had given him. We met here also other celebrated

scientists, as Crookes, Ramsay, and J. Dewar. In collaboration with the

latter, Pierre Curie published investigations on the discharge of heat

by radium at very low temperatures, and upon the formation of helium in

radium salt.

A few months later the Davy medal was conferred upon him (and also upon

me) by the Royal Society of London, and at almost the same time, we

received, together with Henri Becquerel, the Nobel prize for physics.

Our health prevented us from attending the ceremony for the awarding of

this prize in December, and it was only in June, 1905, that we were able

to go to Stockholm where Pierre Curie gave his Nobel lecture. We were

most cordially received and had the felicity of seeing the admirable

Swedish nature in its most brilliant aspect.

The award of the Nobel prize was an important event for us because of

the prestige carried by the Nobel foundation, only recently founded

(1901). Also, from a financial point of view, the half of the prize

represented an important sum. It meant that in the future Pierre Curie

could turn over his teaching in the School of Physics to Paul Langevin,

one of his former students, and a physicist of great competence. He

could also engage a preparator to aid him in his work.

But at the same time the publicity this very happy event entailed bore

very heavily on a man who was neither prepared for it, nor accustomed to

it. There followed an avalanche of visits, of letters, of demands for

articles and lectures, which meant a constant enervation, fatigue, and

loss of time. He was kind and did not like to refuse a request; but on

the other hand, he had to recognize that he could not accede to the

solicitations that overwhelmed him without disastrous results to his

health, as well as to his peace of mind, and his work. In a letter to

Ch. Ed. Guillaume, he said:

"People ask me for articles and lectures, and after a few years are

passed, the very persons who make these demands will be astonished to

see that we have not accomplished any work."

And in other letters of the same period, written to E. Gouy, he

expressed himself as follows:

"20 March 1902

"As you have seen, fortune favors us at this moment; but these favors of

fortune do not come without many worries. We have never been less

tranquil than at this moment. There are days when we scarcely have time

to breathe. And to think that we dreamed of living in the wild, quite

removed from human beings!"

"22 January 1904

"MY DEAR FRIEND:

"I have wanted to write to you for a long time; excuse me if I have not

done so. The cause is the stupid life which I lead at present. You have

seen this sudden infatuation for radium, which has resulted for us in

all the advantages of a moment of popularity. We have been pursued by

journalists and photographers from all countries of the world; they have

gone even so far as to report the conversation between my daughter and

her nurse, and to describe the black-and-white cat that lives with

us.... Further, we have had a great many appeals for money.... Finally,

the collectors of autographs, snobs, society people, and even at times,

scientists, have come to see us--in our magnificent and tranquil

quarters in the laboratory--and every evening there has been a

voluminous correspondence to send off. With such a state of things I

feel myself invaded by a kind of stupor. And yet all this turmoil will

not perhaps have been in vain, if it results in my getting a chair and

a laboratory. To tell the truth, it will be necessary to create the

chair, and I shall not have the laboratory at first. I should have

preferred the reverse, but Liard wishes to take advantage of the present

moment to bring about the creation of a new chair that will later be

acquired for the university. They are to establish a chair without a

fixed program, which will be something like a course in the Collège de

France, and I believe I shall be obliged to change my subject each year,

which will be a great trial to me."

"31 January 1905

"... I have had to give up going to Sweden. We are, as you see, most

irregular in our relations with the Swedish Academy; but, to tell the

truth, I can only keep up by avoiding all physical fatigue. And my wife

is in the same condition; we can no longer dream of the great work days

of times gone by.

"As to research, I am doing nothing at present. With my course, my

students, apparatus to install, and the interminable procession of

people who come to disturb me without serious reason, the days pass

without my having been able to achieve anything useful at this end."

"25 July 1905

"MY DEAR FRIEND:

"We have regretted so much being deprived of your visit this year, but

hope to see you in October. If we do not make an effort from time to

time, we end by losing touch with our best and most congenial friends,

and in keeping company with others for the simple reason that it is easy

to meet them.

"We continue to lead the same life of people who are extremely occupied,

without being able to accomplish anything interesting. It is now more

than a year since I have been able to engage in any research, and I have

no moment to myself. Clearly I have not yet discovered a means to defend

ourselves against this frittering away of our time which is nevertheless

extremely necessary. Intellectually, it is a question of life or death."

"7 November 1905

"I begin my course tomorrow but under very bad conditions for the

preparation of my experiments. The lecture room is at the Sorbonne, and

my laboratory is in the rue Cuvier. Besides, a great number of other

courses are given in the same lecture room, and I can use it only one

morning for the preparation of my own.

"I am neither very well, nor very ill; but I am easily fatigued, and I

have left but very little capacity for work. My wife, on the contrary,

leads a very active life, between her children, the School at Sèvres,

and the laboratory. She does not lose a minute, and occupies herself

more regularly than I can with the direction of the laboratory in which

she passes the greater part of the day."

To sum up: despite these outside complications, our life, by a common

effort of will, remained as simple and as retired as formerly. Toward

the close of 1904 our family was increased by the birth of a second

daughter. Eve Denise was born in the modest house in Boulevard

Kellermann, where we still lived with Doctor Curie, seeing only a few

friends.

As our elder daughter grew up, she began to be a little companion to her

father, who took a lively interest in her education and gladly went for

walks with her in his free times, especially on his vacation days. He

carried on serious conversations with her, replying to all her questions

and delighting in the progressive development of her young mind. From

their early age, his children enjoyed his tender affection, and he never

wearied of trying to understand these little beings, in order to be able

to give them the best he had to give.

With his great success in other countries, the complete appreciation of

Pierre Curie in France, however tardily, did at last follow. At

forty-five he found himself in the first rank of French scientists and

yet, as a teacher, he occupied an inferior position. This abnormal state

of affairs aroused public opinion in his favor, and under the influence

of this wave of feeling, the director of the Academy of Paris, L. Liard,

asked Parliament to create a new professorship in the Sorbonne, and at

the beginning of the academic year 1904-05 Pierre Curie was named

titular professor of the Faculty of Sciences of Paris. A year later he

definitely quitted the School of Physics where his substitute, Paul

Langevin, succeeded him.

This new professorship was not established without a few difficulties.

The first project had provided for a new chair, but not for a

laboratory. And Pierre Curie felt that he could not accept a situation

which involved the risk of losing even the mediocre means of work that

he then had, instead of offering better ones. He wrote, therefore, to

his chiefs, that he had decided to remain at the P.C.N. His firmness won

the day. To the new chair was added a fund for a laboratory and

personnel for the new work (a chief of laboratory, a preparator, and a

laboratory boy). The position of chief of laboratory was offered to me,

which was a cause of very great satisfaction to my husband.

It was not without regret that we left the School of Physics, where we

had known such happy work days, despite their attendant difficulties. We

had become particularly attached to our hangar, which continued to

stand, though in a state of increasing decay, for several years, and we

went to visit it from time to time. Later it had to be pulled down to

make way for a new building for the Physics School, but we have

preserved photographs of it. Warned of its approaching destruction by

the faithful Petit, I made my last pilgrimage there, alas, alone. On the

blackboard there was still the writing of him who had been the soul of

the place; the humble refuge for his research was all impregnated with

his memory. The cruel reality seemed some bad dream; I almost expected

to see the tall figure appear, and to hear the sound of the familiar

voice.

Even though Parliament had voted the creation of a new chair, it did not

go so far as to consider the simultaneous founding of a laboratory which

was, nevertheless, necessary to the development of the new science of

radioactivity. Pierre Curie therefore kept the little workroom at the

P.C.N., and secured as a temporary solution of his difficulty the use of

a large room, then not being used by the P.C.N. He arranged, too, to

have a little building consisting of two rooms and a study set up in the

court.

One cannot help feeling sorrow in realizing that this was a last

concession, and that actually one of the first French scientists never

had an adequate laboratory to work in, and this even though his genius

had revealed itself as early as his twentieth year. Without doubt if he

had lived longer, he would have had the benefit of satisfactory

conditions for his work, but he was still deprived of them at his death

at the premature age of forty-eight. Can we fully imagine the regret of

an enthusiastic and disinterested worker in a great work, who is

retarded in the realization of his dream by the constant lack of means?

And can we think without a feeling of profound grief of the waste--the

one irreparable one--of the nation's greatest asset: the genius, the

powers, and the courage of its best children?

Pierre Curie had always in mind his urgent need for a good laboratory.

When, because of his great reputation, his chiefs felt obliged to try to

induce him, in 1903, to accept the decoration of the Légion d'Honneur,

he declined that distinction, remaining true to the opinion already

referred to in a preceding chapter. And the letter he wrote on this

occasion was inspired by the same feeling as that in the one previously

quoted, when he wrote to his director to refuse the _palmes

académiques_. I quote an extract:

"I pray you to thank the Minister, and to inform him that I do not in

the least feel the need of a decoration, but that I do feel the greatest

need for a laboratory."

After he was named professor at the Sorbonne, Pierre Curie had to

prepare a new course. The position had been given a very personal

character and a very general scope. He was left great freedom in the

choice of the matter he would present. Taking advantage of this freedom

he returned to a subject that was dear to him, and devoted part of his

lectures to the laws of symmetry, the study of fields of vectors and

tensors, and to the application of these ideas to the physics of

crystals. He intended to carry these lessons further, and to work out a

course that would completely cover the physics of crystallized matter

which would have been especially useful because this subject was so

little known in France. His other lessons dealt with radioactivity, set

forth the discoveries made in this new domain, and the revolution they

had caused in science.

Even though he was very much absorbed in the preparation of his course,

and often ill, my husband continued, nevertheless, to work in the

laboratory, which was becoming better and better organized. He had a

little more space now, and could receive a few students. In

collaboration with A. Laborde, he carried on investigations in mineral

waters and gases discharged from springs. This was the last work he

published.

His intellectual faculties were at this time at their height. One could

but admire the surety and rigor of his reasoning on the theories of

physics, his clear comprehension of fundamental principles, and a

certain profound sense of phenomena which he had by instinct, but which

he perfected during the course of a life entirely consecrated to

research and reflection. His skill in experiment, remarkable from the

beginning, was increased by practice. He experienced the pleasure of an

artist when he succeeded with a delicate installation. He enjoyed, too,

devising and constructing new apparatus, and I used jokingly to tell him

that he would not be happy unless he made at least an attempt of this

kind once every six months. His natural curiosity and vivid imagination

pushed him to undertakings in very varied directions; he could change

the object of his research with surprising ease.

He was scrupulously careful of scientific probity and of complete

accuracy in his publications. These are very perfect in form, and none

the less so in those parts where he applies the critical spirit to

himself, expressing his determination never to affirm anything that does

not seem entirely clear. He expresses his thought on this point in the

following words:

"In the study of unknown phenomena, one can make very general hypotheses

and then advance step by step with the help of experience. This method

of progress is sure but necessarily slow. One can, on the contrary, make

daring hypotheses in which he specifies the mechanism of phenomena. Such

a method of procedure has the advantage of suggesting certain

experiments, and, above all, of facilitating reasoning by rendering it

less abstract through the employment of an image. But on the other hand,

one cannot hope thus to conceive a complex theory in accord with

experiment. The precise hypothesis almost certainly includes a portion

of error along with a portion of truth. And this last portion, if it

exists, forms only a part of a more general proposition to which it will

be necessary in the end to return."

Moreover, even though he never hesitated to make hypotheses, he never

permitted their premature publication. He could never accustom himself

to a system of work which involved hasty publications, and was always

happier in a domain in which but a few investigators were quietly

working. The considerable vogue of radioactivity made him wish to

abandon this field of research for a time, and to return to his

interrupted studies of the physics of crystals. He dreamed also of

making an examination of diverse theoretical questions.

He gave much thought to his teaching, which constantly improved, and

which suggested to him ideas on the general orientation of studies and

on methods of teaching, which he believed should be based on contact

with experience and nature. He hoped to see his views adopted by the

Association of Professors as soon as it was formed, and to obtain the

declaration "that the teaching of the sciences must be the dominant

teaching of both the boys' and girls' lycées."

"But," he said, "such a notion would have little chance of success."

But this last period of his life, so fecund, was, alas, soon to end. His

admirable scientific career was to be suddenly broken at the very moment

when he could hope that the years of work to come would be less hard

than those which had preceded.

In 1906, quite ill and tired, he went with me and the children to spend

Easter in the Chevreuse Valley. Those were two sweet days under a mild

sun, and Pierre Curie felt the weight of weariness lighten in a healing

repose near to those who were dear to him. He amused himself in the

meadows with his little girls, and talked with me of their present and

their future.

He returned to Paris for a reunion and dinner of the Physics Society.

There he sat beside Henri Poincaré and had a long conversation with him

on methods of teaching. As we were returning on foot to our house, he

continued to develop his ideas on the culture that he dreamed of, happy

in the consciousness that I shared his views.

The following day, the 19th of April, 1906, he attended a reunion of the

Association of Professors of the Faculties of the Sciences, where he

talked with them very cordially about the aims which the Association

might adopt. As he went out from this reunion and was crossing the rue

Dauphine, he was struck by a truck coming from the Pont Neuf, and fell

under its wheels. A concussion of the brain brought instantaneous death.

So perished the hope founded on the wonderful being who thus ceased to

he. In the study room to which he was never to return, the water

buttercups he had brought from the country were still fresh.

[Footnote 9: During my recent visit to America, where a gramme of radium

was generously offered me by American women, the Buffalo Society of

Natural Sciences presented me, as a souvenir, with a publication

reviewing the development of the radium industry in the United States.

This included photographic reproductions of letters from Pierre Curie in

which he replied in as complete a manner as possible to the questions

asked by American engineers. (1902 and 1903.)]

[Footnote 10: The price of a milligramme of the element of radium was

then fixed at about 750 francs.]

[Footnote 11: These physicians were aided by the manufacturer, Armet de

Lisle, who placed at their disposition the radium needed for their first

undertakings. He founded, besides, in 1906, a laboratory for clinical

study, provided with a supply of radium. And he subventioned the first

special publication devoted to radioactivity and its applications, as a

journal under the name _Radium_, edited by J. Danne. This is an example

of generous support of science by industry, in reality still very rare

but which one wishes might become general, in the common interest of

these two branches of human activity.]

[Footnote 12: The hypothesis according to which radioactivity is bound

up with the atomic transformation of elements was first envisaged by

Pierre Curie and by me, along with other possible hypotheses, before it

was utilized by E. Rutherford. (See _Revue Scientifique_, 1900, Mme.

Curie, etc.)]

[Footnote 13: By using the unusual energy of Alpha-rays E. Rutherford

has obtained recently the rupture of certain light atoms, like those of

nitrogen.]

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