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[Illustration: MICHAEL FARADAY.]
MICHAEL FARADAY:
Man of Science.
by
WALTER JERROLD.
"Whose work was wrought for love, and not for gain."
"One rule his life was fashioned to fulfil;
That he who tends Truth's shrine and does the hest
Of Science, with a humble, faithful will,
The God of Truth and Knowledge serveth best."
Fleming H. Revell Company,
New York Chicago Toronto
Publishers of Evangelical Literature.
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
"Tyndall, I must remain plain Michael Faraday to the last." In these
words, with which he replied to Professor Tyndall's urgent appeal to
him to accept the Presidency of the Royal Society, we have a key-note
to the character of the illustrious yet modest scientist, the good and
great man, whose life-story I have attempted to tell in the following
pages.
A life-story such as that of Michael Faraday is both easy and difficult
to tell--it is easy in that he passed a simple and unadventurous life;
it is difficult, partly, perhaps, for the same reason, and partly
because the story of his life-work is a story of the wonderful advance
made in natural science during the first half of the present century.
Any detailed account of that scientific work would be out of place in a
biography such as the present, which aims at showing by the testimony
of those who knew him and by an account of his relations with his
fellow-men, how nobly unselfish, how simple, yet how grand and useful,
was the long life of Michael Faraday.
Besides this, we are shown--how many an illustrious name in the
bede-roll of our great men brings it to mind--that with an enthusiastic
love for a particular study, and unflagging perseverance in pursuance
of it, the most adverse circumstance of birth and fortune may be
overcome, and he who has striven take rank among the great and good
whose names adorn the annals of their country. Such lives are useful,
not alone for the work which is done, but for the example which
they afford us, that we also--to use Longfellow's well-known, yet
beautifully true lines--
"May make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time."
"The true scientist," says Mr. Robert Buchanan in a recent work,
"should be patient like Darwin and reverent like Faraday." The latter,
indeed, seems to me to have been a truly typical scientist. Never
have we seen an instance of a less selfish devotion to a man's chosen
work. Born the son of a journeyman blacksmith, brought up amidst the
most unpromising surroundings, with but the scantiest schooling, we
find Michael Faraday educating himself during his spare time, and
gradually acquiring, by indomitable perseverance, that scientific
knowledge for which he thirsted. We find him seeking employment, even
in the humblest capacity, in a place that must have appeared to his
youthful mind as the very home of science. Once there, we find him
advancing with marvellous rapidity not only in the acquirement of
knowledge which had been gained by others, but, yet prouder position,
we find him ever adding to that store of knowledge the discovery of
new facts. The patience of the true scientist was assuredly his. We
find him acknowledged by his great contemporaries not only as an equal
but as a leader among them. We find him with wealth and high social
position within his reach. All this do we find--and not this alone;
for we find him at the same time unspoiled in the slightest degree
by his success; caring not in the least for the wealth that might be
his, and declining honours which most men would have considered as
but the fair reward of work which they had done. We find him also the
object of love and admiration, not of his family and intimate friends
alone, but of all persons with whom he came into contact. We find him
exploring all the hidden workings of nature--making known discovery
after discovery in the same modest and enthusiastic manner; and despite
all these inquiries into the secrets of nature, we find him retaining
unshaken that firm faith with which he had started--that beautiful and
unquestioning trust in
"A far off divine event
To which the whole creation moves."
Much of Faraday's kindliness and good nature, his considerateness and
his simple earnest faith could be revealed only by his letters and by
the records of those who had known him personally--on this account I
have found it necessary somewhat freely to make use of illustrative
quotations. After studying his life, however, the kindliness, nay more,
the true brotherhood of the man with all men is the feeling which most
firmly clings to us; we do not alone remember the great electrician,
experimentalist, and lecturer, but we have an ever-present idea of the
sterling goodness of the man.
"A purer, less selfish, more stainless existence, has rarely been
witnessed. At last came the voice which the dying alone can hear, and
the hand which the living may not see, beckoned him away; and then that
noble intellect, awakening from its lethargy, like some sleeper roused
from a heavy dream, rose up and passed through the gates of light into
the better land, where, doubtless, it is now immersed in the study of
grander mysteries than it ever attempted to explore on earth."
In closing this preface I have much pleasure in recording my deep
indebtedness to Miss Jane Barnard, a niece of the great Professor, and
for some two and twenty years a member of his household, for several
reminiscences of her uncle; and also for her kindness in allowing me to
look through the many interesting manuscripts of Faraday's which are in
her possession.
WALTER JERROLD.
[Illustration: LIBRARY, ROYAL INSTITUTION]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
AS CHILD--NEWSBOY AND BOOKBINDER 11
CHAPTER II.
THE TURNING POINT 27
CHAPTER III.
"HOME THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD" 36
CHAPTER IV.
BACK AT WORK 53
CHAPTER V.
"SCIENCE WHICH I LOVED" 71
CHAPTER VI.
AS TEACHER AND PREACHER 89
CHAPTER VII.
OVERWORK--THE END 107
CHAPTER VIII.
AS FRIEND AND LECTURER 127
CHAPTER IX.
NOTES ON HIS WORK 140
CHAPTER X.
ABOUT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION 150
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
MICHAEL FARADAY.
CHAPTER I.
AS CHILD--NEWSBOY AND BOOKBINDER.
"A virtuous household, though exceeding poor!
Pure livers were they all, austere and grave,
And fearing God; the very children taught
Stern self-respect, a reverence for God's word,
And an habitual piety."
WORDSWORTH.
Among those of our great men who, born in humble circumstances
and unfurnished with the benefits of early education, have yet
secured for themselves honourable positions in the history of the
world's progress, Michael Faraday holds a remarkable place. Born
the son of a journeyman blacksmith, Michael yet gained for himself
a conspicuous position among the very first scientists of his day,
and at the time of his death was acknowledged as one of the leading
philosophers--electricians--chemists--of this nineteenth century.
Our interest in a great man makes us always interested also in his
family--we become anxious to know who and what he was apart from that
which has made him great. Who were his parents? from where did they
come? what were they like? what did they do? and a number of similar
questions are at once started as soon as we commence considering the
lives of our "great and good." In the case of Faraday we have only
scanty information as to his family, but thus much we have gleaned:--
During the whole of last century there was living in or near the
village of Clapham, in Yorkshire, a family of the name of Faraday.
Between the years 1708 and 1730 the Clapham parish register shows us
that "Richard ffaraday, stonemason, tiler, and separatist," recorded
the births of ten children, and it is probable that he had in his large
family yet another son, Robert. Whether, however, Robert was his son
or only his nephew is a matter of doubt, but it is known of him that
he married Elizabeth Dean, the possessor of a small though comfortable
house called Clapham Wood Hall, and that he was the father of ten
children, one of whom, James, was born in 1761, and became the father
of Michael Faraday.
Robert and Elizabeth Faraday's six sons were each of them brought up
to some trade or craft, and were thus all of them fitted to go out
into the world and fight the battle of life. One son became a grocer
and (as his grandfather, "Richard ffaraday," had been) tiler; one a
farmer; one a shoemaker, and so on. The third son, James, to us the
most interesting member of this large family, although he appears to
have been of somewhat weak constitution and unfitted for so laborious a
vocation, became a blacksmith, served his apprenticeship, and exercised
his craft for some time in the neighbourhood of his birthplace. When he
was five-and-twenty years old (in 1786), James married; his wife being
Margaret Hastwell, the daughter of a farmer living near Kirkby Stephen,
a place some few miles away from Clapham, over the Westmoreland
border. For two years or thereabouts did the young blacksmith and his
wife remain in the neighbourhood of Clapham; but after that time had
elapsed they determined to come up to London, and seek their fortunes
in the great metropolis. To the young men and women of our rural
places the very name of London has about it, even to-day, a ring as
of genuine coin, that tempts them to leave in large numbers the homes
of their childhood that they may plunge into the vortex of city life.
A hundred years ago this strange attractive power of the metropolis
was probably much greater, owing to the difficulty of reaching it and
the vague stories that were told of its wealth. They who had "been
to London" were looked upon in rural places as veritable travellers,
and were to their "home-keeping" friends objects of greater curiosity
than anyone who to-day returns from the farthest or wildest portion
of the earth's surface. The old story of "the London streets being
paved with gold"--the story that had buoyed up the spirits of the
youthful Whittington--seems yet in the last century to have gained
some credence. Whether they were induced to do so by promises of work,
or merely attracted to London as a centre where work would probably
be plentiful, we cannot say; but it is at any rate certain that the
Faradays removed from the Yorkshire village to a London suburb some
time before the autumn of 1791. For it was on the 22nd of September in
that year that there was born to them at Newington Butts their third
child, Michael, the future illustrious chemist and philosopher, upon
the story of whose life we are now about to enter.
Of Michael's early years we have but a very meagre account. When he
was about five years old his family removed from Newington Butts, and
went to live in Jacob's Well Mews, Charles Street, Manchester Square,
where they occupied rooms over a coach-house. James Faraday found
employment at this time in Welbeck Street, while his young son passed
his time, as children so circumstanced generally do, in playing in
the streets; in after years, indeed, that son, become a prominent man,
would point out where in Spanish Place he used to play at marbles, and
where in Manchester Square he had at a later time been proud of having
to take care of his younger sister, Margaret. It was from Jacob's
Well Mews, too, that Michael went to school, and received such scant
education as was to be his before it became necessary that he, as a
youth of thirteen, should step into the ranks of the workers and begin
the battle of life in earnest; such education as he received was of
the "most ordinary description (to use his own words), consisting of
little more than the rudiments of reading, writing, and arithmetic at
a common day-school. My hours out of school were passed at home and in
the streets."
When Faraday was a boy nine years of age, in the first year of the
present century, there was a time of much distress, when the rate of
wages was very low, and the price of food very high: corn, indeed,
which is at the present time about forty shillings per quarter, cost
then as much as £9 for the same quantity. The distress, was felt very
generally throughout the country, and the Faraday family severely felt
the hard times; Michael, we are told, was allowed one loaf each week,
and, it is added (poor Michael!), that the loaf had to last him that
time.
[Illustration: THE HOUSE IN JACOB'S WELL MEWS.]
Near by where the Faraday family lived in Jacob's Well Mews there
was, at No. 2, Blandford Street, a worthy bookseller named Riebau. In
1804, when Faraday was a boy of thirteen, he was employed as an errand
boy by Mr. Riebau, "for one year on trial"--a trial that, as we shall
shortly see, proved highly satisfactory. Michael's duty as errand boy,
when he commenced, was to carry round the newspapers which were lent
out by his master. He would get up very early each Sunday morning, and
take the papers round, so that he might be able to call again for them
while it was yet fairly early; frequently he would be told that he
"must call again," as the paper was not done with. On such occasions
he would beg to be allowed to have it at once, as the next place at
which he had to call might be a mile off, and he would lose so much
time going twice over his rounds that he would not be able to get home
and make himself neat, so that he might go with his parents to their
place of worship. Mr. Riebau's shop, it may be noted, has changed but
little since the early part of this century, it is still a stationer's
business, and on the front of the house is placed a plaque bearing the
simple inscription "Michael Faraday, Man of Science," with the date
of his apprenticeship there. This plaque has furnished the simple yet
sufficient title for this volume.
His father, it may here be noted, had joined the Sandemanian Church,
or the followers of Robert Sandeman, who, with his father-in-law, the
Reverend John Glas, had seceded from the Scotch Presbyterian Church,
and with him had started the sect which was named after Sandeman,
or, as they are still called in Scotland, Glasites. In joining the
Sandemanian Church, James Faraday was following the family tradition,
for the large family of Clapham Faradays, to whom we have referred,
were all members of the same body. Michael's mother, although she had
not formally become a member of the Church, used regularly to attend as
one of the congregation. Michael, as we shall learn, joined the Church
later on, and continued a devout and sincere member of it up to the
time of his death.
For about a year did young Faraday continue as Mr. Riebau's errand
boy; for about a year, as Professor Tyndall puts it, "he slid along
the London pavements, a bright-eyed errand boy, with a load of brown
curls upon his head and a packet of newspapers under his arm." We learn
from one of his nieces that in his later years he rarely saw a newsboy
without making some kind remark about him; as he said on one such
occasion, "I always feel a tenderness for those boys, because I once
carried newspapers myself." He was reproached, he says, as a boy, with
being a great questioner. "He that questioneth much," says Lord Bacon,
"shall learn much;" but this truth is too often forgotten by their
elders when children are "inquisitive," and, as in Faraday's case, what
is but the natural questioning of an awakening mind is put down to idle
curiosity, and the child is told (as we may often hear) "not to ask so
many questions."
Although Faraday says he was thus "charged with being a great
questioner," he could not recall what kind of questions he put; though
he tells one story against himself which shows that all questioning,
even that of a young philosopher, is not necessarily wise. He had
called at a certain house to leave a newspaper, and whilst waiting
for the door to be opened he put his head between the iron bars that
separated the house from the next, and while in that position asked
himself, somewhat strangely, which side of the railing he was on? No
sooner had he started the question than the door behind him opened, he
drew suddenly back, and, hitting himself so as to make his nose bleed,
he forgot all about his question, which, without being answered, was
yet it would seem somewhat definitely settled.
When his year as errand boy expired, Michael was apprenticed to Mr.
Riebau to learn the trade of bookbinder and stationer. His indentures
are dated October 7th, 1805, and contain in one line an excellent
testimonial to his character: "In consideration of his faithful
service no premium is given." Of the earlier part of his seven
years' apprenticeship we know but little. His father wrote in 1809
to a brother at the old home at Clapham, "Michael is bookbinder and
stationer, and is very active at learning his business. He has been
most part of four years of his time out of seven. He has a very good
master and mistress, and likes his place well. He had a hard time for
some while at first going; but, as the old saying goes, he has rather
got the head above water, as there are two boys under him."
[Illustration: "MICHAEL FARADAY, MAN OF SCIENCE, APPRENTICE HERE."]
In that he was placed within reach of many and good books, which should
go a great way towards deciding his scientific and speculative bent
of mind, a position such as that in Mr. Riebau's shop was as good a
one as he could have had. Not only were many scientific books, that
had hitherto been unavailable, now placed ready to his hand, but he
had in Riebau a kind and considerate master; he was allowed, and it
was a valuable privilege, to be out occasionally of an evening that he
might attend the lectures on natural philosophy which a Mr. Tatum was
delivering at that time at his house in Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
Michael saw bills announcing the lectures in shop windows, and became
anxious to hear them, which he was enabled to do owing to the kindness
of his master, Mr. Riebau, and the generosity of his elder brother
Robert, who at the time was following their father's business, and
made Michael a present on several occasions of the shilling which was
charged for entrance to the lectures.
Towards the end of the year 1809 Faraday's family removed from Jacob's
Well Mews, where their home had been for thirteen years, and went to
live at 18, Weymouth Street, near Portland Place, and there, on October
30th of the following year, James Faraday died. He had been out of
health for some years, and seems indeed to have been quite physically
unfitted for so laborious an occupation as that of blacksmith. In 1807
he had written to a brother at Clapham, "I am sorry to say I have not
had the pleasure of enjoying one day's health for a long time. Although
I am very seldom off work for a whole day together, yet I am under
the necessity (through pain) of being from work part of almost every
day." He then concludes his letter in that spirit of simple yet earnest
devotion that appears to have been characteristic of the whole family:
"But we, perhaps, ought to leave these matters to the overruling hand
of Him who has a sovereign right to do what seemeth good to Him, both
in the armies of heaven and amongst the inhabitants of the earth."
Michael's strong affection for his parents became, as he grew older,
one of the most marked features of his character; his great love
for his mother is shown in many ways, notably in every letter which
he wrote to her. The following story illustrates, as do many others
that are told of him, Faraday's depth of feeling with regard to his
family. After he had become recognised by the world as the great man
that he was, and when sitting to Noble for his bust, it happened that
the sculptor, in giving the finishing touches to the marble, made a
clattering with his chisels: noticing that his sitter appeared moved,
he said he feared the jingling of the tools had distressed him, and
that he was weary. "No, my dear Mr. Noble," said Faraday, putting his
hand upon his shoulder, "but the noise reminded me of my father's
anvil, and took me back to my boyhood."
Gradually Faraday's interest widened in those matters which later on
were to entirely engross his attention. His apprenticeship at first
gave him many opportunities of reading philosophical and scientific
works. "I loved," he afterwards wrote, referring to this time, "to read
the scientific books which were under my hands, and, amongst them,
delighted in Marcet's _Conversations in Chemistry_, and the electrical
treatise in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_. I made," he adds, and the
item is interesting as giving us a first glimpse at his experiments, "I
made such simple experiments in chemistry as could be defrayed in their
expense by a few pence per week, and also constructed an electrical
machine, first with a glass phial, and afterwards with a real cylinder,
as well as other electrical apparatus of a corresponding kind." Watts'
_On the Mind_, was, he said, the first thing that made him really
think; while his thoughts were directed towards science by an article
on electricity, which he lighted upon in an encyclopædia entrusted to
him to bind. Such glimpses into the early reading--showing us how the
bent of his genius is decided--are always interesting in the life of
one who, as Tennyson says, "Has made by force his merit known."
Into Faraday's early reading--or that part of his reading which bore
upon the science with which his name is so intimately connected--we
have indeed something more than a glimpse, for he compiled (during
1809-10) a note book in which he wrote down the names of such books
and articles connected with the sciences as interested him. This note
book he called, "_The Philosophical Miscellany_: being a collection
of notices, occurrences, events, etc., relating to the arts and
sciences, collected from the public papers, reviews, magazines, and
other miscellaneous works; intended to promote both amusement and
instruction, and also to corroborate or invalidate those theories which
are continually starting into the world of science."
Thus ambitiously did Michael Faraday, a youth of not yet twenty
years, start upon his career as an investigator; thus early did he
evince a desire to "corroborate or invalidate those theories which
are continually starting into the world of science." Among books and
articles to which reference is made in the interesting _Miscellany_,
there are papers by Dr. Darwin,[1] papers on a "Description of a
Pyro-pneumatic Apparatus," and "Experiment on the Ocular Spectra of
Light and Colours," frequent references to "lightning," "electric
fish," and other electrical phenomena, showing his early leaning
towards this particular branch of investigation. There is a reference
to the short essay on the _Formation of Snow_, which forms the
reading for December 5th, in that interesting, and at the present
time neglected, work, Sturm's _Reflections on the Works of God_.
This book has perhaps been supplanted in a great measure by the many
popular treatises on science and natural history which recent years
have produced, but which, nevertheless, have not taken the place of
the _Reflections_, the simplicity and directness of which give to the
volume a perennial charm such as but few books can maintain. Other
papers, such as that on "How to Loosen Glass Stopples," included
in the _Miscellany_, show us Faraday's interest in the science of
everyday life, to which in his later years we owe those delightfully
interesting lectures on "The Chemical History of a Candle," lectures
to which fuller reference is made later on in this volume. One other
reference in the _Miscellany_ is at any rate worthy of passing note for
obvious reasons, or for reasons which are obvious as soon as we learn
how closely connected is the career of Faraday with that of his great
benefactor and predecessor in the field of research, Sir Humphry Davy.
The reference is from the _Chemical Observer_, to the effect that "Mr.
Davy (he was knighted in 1812) has announced to the Royal Society a
great discovery in chemistry--the fixed alkalies have been decomposed
by the galvanic battery."
From the lectures at Mr. Tatum's house our young philosopher gained
something more than a knowledge of the subjects discussed--he gained
several friends, intercourse and exchange of ideas with whom were to
form no inconsiderable part of his education; that he might illustrate
the lectures, too, he set to study perspective, being kindly assisted
in his work by Mr. Masquarier, a French refugee artist who was lodging
at the time at Mr. Riebau's, and whose kindness to him Faraday never
in after years forgot to acknowledge. About a dozen lectures at Mr.
Tatum's were spread over rather more than eighteen months (February,
1810--September, 1811). At them, Faraday became acquainted with
Benjamin Abbott, a confidential clerk in the City--an acquaintance that
ripened into life-long friendship; here also he met Huxtable, a medical
student, to whom he addressed the earliest note of his which is extant.
Other kindred spirits with whom Faraday entered into friendly relations
at the Dorset Street lectures, were Magrath, Newton, Nichol, and many
more. There is a perverted and ridiculous story told of Faraday's first
hearing Davy lecture, to the effect that "Magrath happening, many
years ago, to enter the shop of Mr. Riebau, observed one of the bucks
of the paper bonnet zealously studying a book which he ought to have
been binding. He approached; it was a volume of the old _Britannica_,
open at 'Electricity.' He entered into talk with the journeyman, and
was astonished to find in him a self-taught chemist, of no slender
pretensions. He presented him with a set of tickets for Davy's lectures
at the Royal Institution; and daily thereafter might the nondescript
be seen perched, pen in hand, and his eyes starting out of his head,
just over the clock opposite the chair. At last the course terminated;
but Faraday's spirit had received a new impulse, which nothing but dire
necessity could have restrained." This circumstantial yet exaggerated
story, couched as it is in the worst of tastes, is yet quoted with
approval in a recent work supposed of some authority.
Magrath, as we have seen, Faraday had met earlier, and, as he tells
us himself, the kindness of giving him tickets for Davy's lectures
was done him by Mr. Dance.[2] The story quoted above says also that
he might be seen _daily_, and that "at last" the course terminated.
To show us how garbled is this account and in what it is true, we
will turn to an account of this incident--this important incident--in
his life, which Faraday himself wrote out later at the request of a
correspondent. "During my apprenticeship," he says, "I had the good
fortune, through the kindness of Mr. Dance, who was a customer of my
master's shop, and also a member of the Royal Institution, to hear
four of the last lectures of Sir H. Davy in that locality. The dates
of these lectures were February 29th, March 14th, April 8th and 10th,
1812. Of these I made notes, and then wrote out the lectures in a
fuller form, interspersing them with such drawings as I could make.
The desire to be engaged in scientific occupation, even though of
the lowest kind, induced me, whilst an apprentice, to write, in my
ignorance of the world and simplicity of my mind, to Sir Joseph Banks,
then President of the Royal Society. Naturally enough, 'no answer' was
the reply left with the porter."
The four lectures which Faraday heard during the spring of 1812 were,
as we shall see in the next chapter, to mark an epoch in his life.
At each of these lectures, we are told, the delighted youth listened
to Sir Humphry Davy, from a seat in the gallery immediately over the
clock directly facing the illustrious lecturer;[3] both speaker and
listener being unaware of the close inter-connection there was destined
to be between their two careers. But of this in the next chapter, for
between Faraday's hearing Davy's lectures and his correspondence
with that great man, there are one or two other interesting facts in
connection with the life of our bookbinder's apprentice and would-be
philosopher. In July of this year it was that Michael commenced his
long and interesting series of letters to Benjamin Abbott, letters that
show us how keenly alive Faraday was to all things connected with the
work with which he was anxious to become more intimately connected, and
at the same time how anxious he was to make up for his deficiencies of
education.
In all his letters we find a charm in the simple earnestness of the
man, in his straightforward search for truth, in the unreserved
openness which characterised him when corresponding with one whom
he not only called a friend, but treated as such on all occasions.
Simplicity, in its best and highest meaning, was, if we can in one
word sum up the character of a man, the chief feature of Faraday in
all his relations throughout life. Through all his letters to his
intimate friends, too, there runs a vein of unaffected pleasantry which
shows us at once that he was no "mere scientist," no "dry-as-dust"
philosopher, which is a character too often given by thoughtless and
careless persons to men who earn their laurels in any special field of
research. We find that the great chemist or philosopher is not only a
great scientist, but that he is also, as Faraday undoubtedly was, a man
of a simple, earnest, reverent nature, a man whose married life was one
series of years of love-making, who was a cheerful, pleasant friend and
companion, and intense and earnest lover of children.
Perhaps I cannot better conclude this chapter than by giving a few
passages from his early letters, passages that will fully bear out
much of what is said in the preceding paragraph. It was in July, 1812,
three months before the articles of his apprenticeship ran out, that
Faraday began his letters to Abbott; he was not as yet twenty-one
years of age, his early education, as we have seen, had been chiefly
the three R's, yet we find these letters eminently remarkable for their
correctness and fluency, not less than for their kindness, courtesy,
and candour. His first letter to Abbott is, indeed, doubly interesting,
for it gives us the earliest account we have of any of his experiments.
After writing a good deal on what he considers to be the advantage of a
correspondence, he continues: "I have lately made a few simple galvanic
experiments, merely to illustrate to myself the first principles of
the science.... I, sir, I my own self, cut out seven discs of the size
of halfpennies each! I, sir, covered them with seven halfpence, and I
interposed between seven, or rather six, pieces of paper soaked in a
solution of muriate of soda!!! But laugh no longer, dear A.; rather
wonder at the effects this trivial power produced. It was sufficient
to produce the decomposition of sulphate of magnesia--an effect which
extremely surprised me; for I did not, could not, have any idea that
the agent was competent to the purpose."
Again, to the same friend, he writes: "What? affirm you have little
to say, and yet a philosopher? What a contradiction! What a paradox!
'tis a circumstance I till now had no idea of, nor shall I at any time
allow you to advance it as a plea for not writing. A philosopher cannot
fail to abound in subjects, and a philosopher can scarcely fail to have
a plentiful flow of words, ideas, opinions, etc., etc., when engaged
on them; at least, I never had reason to suppose you deficient there.
Query by Abbott: 'Then pray, Mike, why have you not answered my last
before now since subjects are so plentiful?' 'Tis neither more nor
less, dear A., than a want of time. Time, sir, is all I require, and
for time will I cry out most heartily. Oh that I could purchase at a
cheap rate some of our modern gents' spare hours, nay, days; I think it
would be a good bargain both for them and me. As for subjects, there
is no want of them. I could converse with you, I will not say for ever,
but for any finite length of time. Philosophy would furnish us with
matter; and even now, though I have said _nothing_, yet the best part
of a page is covered."
A little later he writes, acknowledging a letter from his friend, a
letter which found him paper-hanging--"but what a change of thought
it occasioned; what a concussion, confusion, conglomeration; what a
revolution of ideas it produced--oh! 'twas too much; away went cloths,
shears, paper, paste, and brush, all--all was too little, all was too
light to keep my thoughts from soaring high, connected close with
thine."
This letter, after referring to his friend's electrical experiments, he
finishes somewhat sadly, "You know I shall shortly enter on the life of
a journeyman, and then I suppose time will be more scarce than it is
even now." Little did he dream how great a change in his prospects one
short half year would make.
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FOOTNOTES:
[1] Erasmus Darwin, author of _The Botanic Garden_, _Loves of the
Plants_, etc., and grandfather of the more famous Charles Darwin.
[2] It may be noted here that there are several spurious stories told
of Faraday's first visit to the Institution and his introduction to
Davy. The story as told here is as Faraday himself told it to Davy's
biographer.
[3] It is interesting to note that Sir Humphry Davy was only thirteen
years the senior of Michael Faraday.
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