SECTION XI.

_Character of Linnaeus._

Specific Character of Linnaeus--Remarks of

Condorcet--Linnaeus's Appearance and bodily Conformation--His

Habits, mental Characteristics, Sociality, domestic

Relations, Parsimony, and Generosity--His Forbearance

towards his Opponents, Inaptitude for the Acquisition of

Languages, Love of Fame, moral Conduct, religious

Feelings--Character of his Writings--Remarks on his

Classifications.

The character of Linnaeus, marked as it is by features which the least

reflective mind can hardly fail to distinguish as indicative of

qualities that seldom present themselves in so high a degree of

development, is not difficult to be appreciated.

The method which he employed for characterising the genera and species

of animals and plants, he applied to himself as an individual, and the

description which he gave of his own person and mind is too remarkable

to be omitted here. It is this:--

"Occipite gibbo, ad suturam lambdoideam transverse depresso, pili in

infantia nivei, dein fusci, in senio canescentes. Oculi brunnei,

vivaces, acutissimi, visu eximio. Frons in senio rugosa. Verruca

obliterata in bucca dextra et alia in nasi dextro latere. Dentes

debiles, cariosi ab odontalgia haereditaria in juventute.

"Animus promptus, mobilis ad iram et laetitiam et maerores, cito

placabatur; hilaris in juventute, nec in senio torpidus, in rebus

agendis promptissimus; incessu levis, agilis.

"Curas domesticas committebat uxori, ipse naturae productis unice

intentus; incepta opera ad finem perduxit, nec in itinere respexit."

To convert this aphoristic description into elegant English, such as is

employed by writers of the Buffon school,--men of many words and few

facts,--would be to destroy its peculiar beauty, which can only be

retained in an appropriate translation:--

"The head of Linnaeus had a remarkable prominence behind, and was

transversely depressed at the lambdoid suture. His hair was white in

infancy, afterwards brown, in old age grayish. His eyes were hazel,

lively, and penetrating; their power of vision exquisite. His forehead

was furrowed in old age. He had an obliterated wart on the right cheek,

and another on the corresponding side of the nose. His teeth were

unsound, and at an early age decayed from hereditary toothach. His mind

was quick, easily excited to anger, joy, or sadness; but its affections

soon subsided. In youth he was cheerful, in age not torpid, in business

most active. He walked with a light step, and was distinguished for

agility. The management of his domestic affairs he committed to his

wife, and concerned himself solely with the productions of nature.

Whatever he began he brought to an end, and on a journey he never looked

back."

"Some time before his death," says Condorcet in his Eloge, "Linnaeus

traced in Latin, on a sheet of paper, his character, his manners, and

his external conformation, imitating in this respect several great men.

He accuses himself of impatience, of an excessive vivacity, and even of

a little jealousy. In this sketch he has pushed modesty and truth to

their utmost; and they who have known that great naturalist, justly

charge him with severity towards himself. There are moments when the

most virtuous person sees nothing but his own failings. After describing

universal nature in all its details, it may be said that the picture

would have remained incomplete had he not painted himself. At the same

time it is vexing that he should have painted himself in colours so

unfavourable. Judging him by his conduct, no one could have fancied the

existence of these defects, nor could they have been known unless he had

revealed them." Yet, if the damnatory revelation which he made be, as M.

Fee asserts, nothing more than the above sketch, it would appear that he

has half in playfulness presented a technical character of himself, such

as he would have written of a bear or a baboon. It presents indications

of candour and self-reproach, but certainly is, on the whole, much more

laudatory than otherwise.

With respect to bodily conformation, he was of a stature rather below

the ordinary standard, as has been the case with several very ambitious,

active, and successful men. His temperament was the sanguineous, with a

proportion of the nervous; whence he was lively, excitable, full of

hope, and of great ardour; but since he was in no degree melancholic,

some physiologists might puzzle themselves to discover where he obtained

his indefatigable industry, his perseverance, his obstinate

straightforwardness, and the tenacity with which he held all opinions

which he had once received. In youth and middle age he was light, but

muscular; whence his personal agility and energy; but as he advanced in

years he became rather full, although with little diminution of his

corporeal, and still less of his mental activity. In walking he stooped

a little, having contracted that habit from his constant search for

plants and other objects. He was moderate in his diet, regulated his

mode of living by strict method, and by temperance preserved his

energies, that he might devote them to the cultivation of his favourite

sciences. His hours of sleep were in summer from ten to five, in winter

from nine to six.

Punctual and orderly in all his arrangements, he underwent labours which

to most men would have been impracticable. Yet the period of study he

always limited by the natural flow of his spirits, and whenever he

became fatigued, or felt indisposed for labour, he laid aside his task.

Some persons have accounted for the immense extent of his works by

simply allowing him industry and perseverance; but they who think so are

not aware, that these qualities are generally inseparable from genius of

the highest order.

In the evenings he frequently indulged in social intercourse with his

friends, when he gave free vent to his lively humour; never for a moment

enveloping himself in that reserve with which men of little minds

conceal their real want of dignity. Whether delivering a solemn oration

at the university, or familiarly conversing with the learned, or dancing

in a barn with his pupils, he was respected and esteemed alike.

It is perhaps strange that, although of this joyous temperament, he had

not a musical ear, having been in this respect like a man whose

character was in almost every point very different, but not less truly

estimable,--that great master of moral wisdom, Dr Johnson. It would

even seem that he had a kind of antipathy to certain combinations of

harmonious sound, although it is clear that he enjoyed the lively song

of the thrush and skylark, which he mentions in his Lapland journey as

affording him delight.

With respect to his domestic relations, it is agreed by his biographers

that he manifested a very amiable character. He was a faithful and

tender husband, although his consort possessed few estimable qualities;

a fond and indulgent father, although his children obtained a much

smaller share of his solicitude than his garden and museum. His wife,

who, as we have seen, took charge of all his domestic arrangements, is

described as having been of a masculine appearance, selfish,

domineering, and destitute of accomplishments. Unable to hold any share

in rational conversation, she had little desire to encourage it in

others; and as her parsimony was still greater than her husband's, we

may suppose that her mode of management was not very conducive to the

comfort of her guests. As a mother being incapable of estimating the

advantages of proper training, her daughters were in a great measure

left destitute of the polite acquirements becoming their station in

society; and the father being, as he says, "naturae productis unice

intentus," did not trouble himself about uninteresting affairs of this

nature. The result, so far as regards his son, we shall see in a

subsequent section.

It is generally acknowledged that Linnaeus was more addicted to the love

of gold than becomes a philosopher, and that his style of living was by

no means equal to his income. "For my own part," says his pupil

Fabricius, "I can easily excuse him for having been a little too fond

of money, when I consider those extremes of poverty which so long and so

heavily overwhelmed him. It may also be said in his defence, that the

parsimonious habits which he had contracted under the most pressing

necessity remained with him ever after, and that he found it impossible

to renounce them when he lived in the midst of abundance." This apology

may perhaps suffice, especially when we find it asserted that his

frugality never degenerated into avarice.

Towards his pupils he conducted himself with the most praiseworthy

liberality. To those who were poor he remitted the fees due to him as

professor, and even from the rich he on many occasions refused to

receive any recompense. Dr Gieseke, when about to leave him in the

autumn of 1771, pressed upon him a Swedish bank-note, as a remuneration

for the trouble which he had taken in affording him instruction; but he

was unwilling to accept it, and it was not till after the repeated

entreaties of his pupil that he acceded to his request:--"Tell me

candidly," said he, "if you are rich, and can afford it;--can you well

spare this money on your return to Germany? If you can, give the note to

my wife; but should you be poor, so help me God, I would not take a

farthing from you!"--"To the praise of Linnaeus," says Mr Ehrhart, "I

must farther own, notwithstanding his parsimony, that he neither would

nor did accept a single penny as a fee for the lectures which he gave

me. You are a Swiss," he once said to me, "and the only Swiss that

visits me. I shall take no money of you, but feel a pleasure in telling

you all that I know gratis."

His excitable temper not unfrequently betrayed him into expressions

which indicated a great want of self-control; but if he was easily

roused to anger, he was as speedily appeased. He was exceedingly

pleasant in conversation, humorous, and fond of telling entertaining

stories. Constant in his attachments, he was ever disposed to look with

indulgence on the faults of his friends; and he was fortunate in the

affection which his pupils manifested towards him. But it is said that

he was equally tenacious of dislike towards his enemies, or those of

whom he had formed an unfavourable opinion.

His opponents he treated with forbearance or contempt, and on no

occasion engaged in controversy. In a letter to Haller he says,--"Our

great example, Boerhaave, answered nobody whatever: I recollect his

saying to me one day, 'You should never reply to any controversial

writers; promise me that you will not.' I promised him accordingly, and

have benefited very much by it." If he cherished animosity towards his

adversaries, it certainly did not prevent him from expressing his esteem

for their merits; and as dissimulation had no place in his character, he

did not follow the example of those who by private misrepresentations

undo the benefits conferred by public encomiums. "I am certain," says

Murray, "that had his most unjust and most violent opponents heard him,

they could not have refused him their esteem and affection."

No man ever excelled him in the discrimination of natural objects; nor

is it necessary for us to enter upon any exposition of the excellencies

of his mental constitution, as fitting him for the office which he

assumed as legislator of natural history. Active, penetrating,

sagacious, more conversant with nature than with books, yet not

unacquainted with the labours of others, he succeeded in eliciting order

from the chaotic confusion which he found prevailing in his favourite

sciences. His memory, which was uncommonly vigorous, was, like his other

faculties, devoted to natural history alone; and it was the first that

suffered decay. When he was only fifty years of age it already exhibited

symptoms of decline; and a few years before his death it was almost

entirely extinguished. In the study of modern languages he had never

made sufficient progress to enable him to express his ideas with fluency

in any other than his native tongue. His intercourse with strangers was

carried on in Latin, of which he had a competent knowledge, although in

his letters he paid little attention to elegance, or even in some cases

to grammatical accuracy. He used to say to his friends,--"Malo tres

alapas a Prisciano, quam unam a Natura,--I would rather have three slaps

from Priscian than one from Nature."

The love of fame was his predominant passion. It possessed his soul at

an early age, strengthened as he advanced in years, and retained its

hold to the last. "Famam extendere factis" was his favourite motto, and

that which, when ennobled, he chose for his coat of arms. But his

ambition was entirely confined to science, and never influenced his

conduct towards the persons with whom he had intercourse, nor manifested

itself by the assumption of superiority. Fond of praise, he was liberal

in dispensing it to others; and, although nothing afforded him more

pleasure than flattery, he was neither apt to boast of his merits, nor

disinclined to extol those of his fellow-labourers.

We do not find any remarkable deviations in his general conduct from the

straight path of morality. It is true, that in the affair of Rosen the

impetuosity of his temper had nearly betrayed him into an act which

would have stamped his memory with indelible disgrace; but if he

exhibited some of the frailties and errors inseparable from humanity, it

is neither our inclination to search them out, nor our province to

pronounce judgment upon them. He has been accused of betraying a

prurient imagination in the names which he gave to many objects, both in

the vegetable and animal kingdoms. It is certain, that a more chastened

taste would have enabled him to avoid offence in this matter; but

neither in conversation nor in act has any moral delinquency been laid

to his charge.

In all his writings there appears a deep feeling of reverence and

gratitude towards the Supreme Being; and in the history of his life we

find nothing which could lead us to suppose that such feelings were

assumed for the occasion. Over the door of his room was

inscribed,--"Innocui vivite, Numen adest,--Live in innocence, for God is

present." His more important works he commences and ends with some

passage from the Scriptures, expressive of the power, the glory, the

beneficence of God, the creator and preserver of all things. Whenever,

in his lectures or on his excursions, he found an opportunity of

expatiating on these subjects, he embraced it with enthusiasm. "On these

occasions," says one of his biographers, "his heart glowed with

celestial fire, and his mouth poured forth torrents of admirable

eloquence." Where is the naturalist, possessed of the true feelings of a

man, who does not honour in his heart the being possessed of such a

character! The sneer of the filthy sensualist, who, steeped in

pollution, endeavours to persuade his turbid mind that all others are

like himself; the scorn of the little puffed-up intellect, which, having

traced the outline of some curious mechanism in nature, exults in the

fancied independence of its own poor energies; the malice of the

grovelling spirit, that, finding itself eclipsed by the splendour of

superior talents, strives to obscure them by the aspersions of

calumny,--what are they that they should influence our estimation of the

character of this great man, who with his ardent piety and the devotion

of his faculties to the glory of his Creator, is, amid all his

imperfections, an object worthy of our love and esteem. And such he will

remain, while the world endures, in the view of every enlightened

admirer of the wonderful works of God.

His writings are characterized by extreme brevity, nervousness, and

precision. He expresses in a dozen words what might be expanded into

half as many sentences. His style certainly is not always pure, nor even

on all occasions grammatically correct. He was more desirous to instruct

than to entertain, and therefore his expressions are weighed but not

ornamented. Yet no teacher ever excited such enthusiasm in his pupils;

and since the world began has there been none who gave such an impulse

to the progress of natural history. They who can sneer at such a man

must be cold and selfish indeed. "The language of Linnaeus," says Cuvier,

"is ingenious and singular. Its very singularity renders it attractive.

His phraseology, and even his titles, are figurative; but his figures

are in general highly expressive. With him, the various means by which

Nature ensures the reproduction of plants are their nuptials; the

changes in the position of their parts at night are their sleep; the

periods of the year at which they flower form the calendar of Flora."

As an example of his manner, when treating of a subject not technically

described, we may present his account of the plant to which he gave the

name of Andromeda: "This most choice and beautiful virgin gracefully

erects her long and shining neck (the peduncle), her face with its rosy

lips (the corolla) far excelling the best pigment. She kneels on the

ground with her feet bound (the lower part of the stem incumbent),

surrounded with water, and fixed to a rock (a projecting clod), exposed

to frightful dragons (frogs and newts). She bends her sorrowful face

(the flower) towards the earth, stretches up her innocent arms (the

branches) toward heaven, worthy of a better place and happier fate,

until the welcome Perseus (summer), after conquering the monster, draws

her out of the water and renders her a fruitful mother, when she raises

her head (the fruit) erect." The analogy that gave rise to this fanciful

description, which is contained in the Flora Lapponica, suggested itself

to Linnaeus on his Lapland journey. "The Chamaedaphne of Buxbaum," says

he, "was at this time in its highest beauty, decorating the marshy

grounds in a most agreeable manner. The flowers are quite blood-red

before they expand, but when full grown the corolla is of a

flesh-colour. Scarcely any painter's art can so happily imitate the

beauty of a fine female complexion; still less could any artificial

colour upon the face itself bear a comparison with this lovely blossom.

As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda as

described by the poets; and the more I meditated upon their

descriptions, the more applicable they seemed to the little plant before

me; so that, if these writers had had it in view, they could scarcely

have contrived a more apposite fable. Andromeda is represented by them

as a virgin of most exquisite and unrivalled charms; but these charms

remain in perfection only so long as she retains her virgin purity,

which is also applicable to the plant, now preparing to celebrate its

nuptials. This plant is always fixed on some little turfy hillock in the

midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the

sea, which bathed her feet, as the fresh water does the roots of the

plant. Dragons and venomous serpents surrounded her, as toads and other

reptiles frequent the abode of her vegetable prototype, and, when they

pair in the spring, throw mud and water over its leaves and branches. As

the distressed virgin cast down her blushing face through excessive

affliction, so does the rosy-coloured flower hang its head, growing

paler and paler till it withers away. Hence, as this plant forms a new

genus, I have chosen for it the name of _Andromeda_."

"Botany may be compared to one of those plants which flower only once in

a century. It first put forth some seed-leaves in the reign of

Alexander. After the war of Mithridates, the victorious Romans

transported it to Rome, when the root-leaves began to appear. Receiving

no further cultivation, it ceased to grow. It was next carried from

Italy to Arabia, where it remained until the twelfth century. It then

languished in France during three centuries; its root-leaves began to

wither, and the plant was ready to perish. Towards the sixteenth

century, however, it yielded a slight flower (Caesalpinus), so frail that

the gentlest breeze might seem sufficient to detach it from its slender

stalk. This flower bore no fruit. Towards the seventeenth century, the

stem, which had been so long without appearing, shot up to a great

height; but its leaves were few, and no flower appeared. In the early

spring of this happy period, however, when a gentle warmth had succeeded

the frosts of winter, this stem yielded a fresh flower, to which

succeeded a fruit (C. Bauhin) that nearly attained maturity. Soon after,

this splendid stem was surrounded with numerous leaves and flowers."

These figurative descriptions, however, have no place in the more

technical writings of Linnaeus, where, on the contrary, all is brief,

clear, and precise; but, as we have already presented some specimens of

these, it is unnecessary to make any additional remarks.

Notwithstanding the attacks that have been made on his mineralogical

system, it is at least deserving of praise, as showing the

practicability of arranging the objects belonging to this kingdom of

nature according to strict method. In botany his merits were

transcendent, and with the mention of that science his name is uniformly

associated. He found it in a rude and unsettled state, and left it so

admirably disposed, that the beauty and practical utility of his method

recommended it to the cultivators of science in all countries. Nor were

his labours in the animal kingdom less successful. The general

principles of classification which he introduced, his invention of

specific names, his improvements in nomenclature and terminology, and

the wonderful precision of his descriptions, rendered the study of these

sciences as pleasing and easy as it had previously been irksome and

laborious.

All systems flourish and fade. The mineralogy of Linnaeus has perished;

his zoology, cut down to the root, has sent forth a profusion of

luxuriant shoots; and although his botany maintains as yet a strong

claim upon the admiration of the lovers of nature, a fairer plant has

sprung up beside it, which promises a richer harvest of golden fruits.

But should the period ever arrive when all that belonged to him of mere

system and technicology shall be obliterated, he will not the less be

remembered as a bright luminary in the dark hemisphere of natural

science, which served for a time to throw a useful light around, and led

observers to surer paths of observation than had previously been known.

Lives of Eminent Zoologists, from Aristotle to Linnæus with Introductory remarks on the Study of Natural History · 第 11 / 13 章