* * * * *

Girls had perfect liberty at that time in Edinburgh; we walked together in Princes Street, the fashionable promenade, and were joined by our dancing partners. We occasionally gave little supper parties, and presented these young men to our parents as they came in. At these meetings we played at games, danced reels, or had a little music—never cards. After supper there were toasts, sentiments, and songs. There were always one or two hot dishes, and a variety of sweet things and fruit. Though I was much more at ease in society now, I was always terribly put out when asked for a toast or a sentiment. Like other girls, I did not dislike a little quiet flirtation; but I never could speak across a table, or take a leading part in conversation. This diffidence was probably owing to the secluded life I led in my early youth. At this time I gladly took part in any gaiety that was going on, and spent the day after a ball in idleness and gossiping with my friends; but these were rare occasions, for the balls were not numerous, and I never lost sight of the main object of my life, which was to prosecute my studies. So I painted at Nasmyth's, played the usual number of hours on the piano, worked and conversed with my mother in the evening; and as we kept early hours, I rose at day-break, and after dressing, I wrapped myself in a blanket from my bed on account of the excessive cold—having no fire at that hour—and read algebra or the classics till breakfast time. I had, and still have, determined perseverance, but I soon found that it was in vain to occupy my mind beyond a certain time. I grew tired and did more harm than good; so, if I met with a difficult point, for example, in algebra, instead of poring over it till I was bewildered, I left it, took my work or some amusing book, and resumed it when my mind was fresh. Poetry was my great resource on these occasions, but at a later period I read novels, the "Old English Baron," the "Mysteries of Udolpho," the "Romance of the Forest," &c. I was very fond of ghost and witch stories, both of which were believed in by most of the common people and many of the better educated. I heard an old naval officer say that he never opened his eyes after he was in bed. I asked him why? and he replied, "For fear I should see something!" Now I did not actually believe in either ghosts or witches, but yet, when alone in the dead of the night, I have been seized with a dread of, I know not what. Few people will now understand me if I say I was eerie, a Scotch expression for superstitious awe. I have been struck, on reading the life of the late Sir David Brewster, with the influence the superstitions of the age and country had on both learned and unlearned. Sir David was one of the greatest philosophers of the day. He was only a year younger than I; we were both born in Jedburgh, and both were influenced by the superstitions of our age and country in a similar manner, for he confessed that, although he did not believe in ghosts, he was eerie when sitting up to a late hour in a lone house that was haunted. This is a totally different thing from believing in spirit-rapping, which I scorn.

We returned as usual to Burntisland, in spring, and my father, who was at home, took my mother and me a tour in the Highlands. I was a great admirer of Ossian's poems, and viewed the grand and beautiful scenery with awe; and my father, who was of a romantic disposition, smiled at my enthusiastic admiration of the eagles as they soared above the mountains. These noble birds are nearly extirpated; and, indeed, the feathered tribes, which were more varied and numerous in Britain than in any part of Europe, will soon disappear. They will certainly be avenged by the insects.

On coming home from the journey I was quite broken-hearted to find my beautiful goldfinch, which used to draw its water so prettily with an ivory cup and little chain, dead in its cage. The odious wretches of servants, to whose care I trusted it, let it die of hunger. My heart is deeply pained as I write this, seventy years afterwards.

* * * * *

In Fifeshire, as elsewhere, political opinions separated friends and disturbed the peace of families; discussions on political questions were violent and dangerous on account of the hard-drinking then so prevalent. At this time the oppression and cruelty committed in Great Britain were almost beyond endurance. Men and women were executed for what at the present day would only have been held to deserve a few weeks' or months' imprisonment.[5] Every liberal opinion was crushed, men were entrapped into the army by promises which were never kept, and press-gangs tore merchant seamen from their families, and forced them to serve in the navy, where they were miserably provided for. The severity of discipline in both services amounted to torture. Such was the treatment of the brave men on whom the safety of the nation depended! They could bear it no longer; a mutiny broke out in the fleet which had been cruising off the Texel to watch the movements of a powerful Dutch squadron. The men rose against their officers, took the command, and ship after ship returned to England, leaving only a frigate and the "Venerable," commanded by Admiral Duncan, with my father as his flag-captain. To deceive the Dutch, they continued to make signals, as if the rest of the fleet were in the offing, till they could return to England; when, without delay, Admiral Duncan and my father went alone on board each ship, ordered the men to arrest the ringleaders, which was done, and the fleet immediately returned to its station off the Texel. At last, on the morning of the 11th October, 1797, the Dutch fleet came out in great force, and formed in line of battle; that is, with their broadsides towards our ships. Then Admiral Duncan said to my father, "Fairfax, what shall we do?"—"Break their line, sir, and draw up on the other side, where they will not be so well prepared."—"Do it, then, Fairfax." So my father signalled accordingly. The circumstances of the battle, which was nobly fought on both sides, are historical. Nine ships of the line and two frigates were taken, and my father was sent home to announce the victory to the Admiralty. The rejoicing was excessive; every town and village was illuminated; and the Administration, relieved from the fear of a revolution, continued more confidently its oppressive measures.

When Admiral Duncan came to London, he was made a Baron, and afterwards Earl of Camperdown; and, by an unanimous vote of the House of Commons, he received a pension or a sum of money, I forget which; my father was knighted, and made Colonel of Marines. Earl Spencer was First Lord of the Admiralty at the time, and Lady Spencer said to my father, "You ask for the promotion of your officers, but you never have asked a reward for yourself." He replied, "I leave that to my country." But his country did nothing for him; and at his death my mother had nothing to live upon but the usual pension of an Admiral's widow, of seventy-five pounds a-year. Our friends, especially Robert Ferguson, junior, of Raith, made various attempts to obtain an addition to it; but it was too late: Camperdown was forgotten.

I remember one morning going to Lord Camperdown's house in Edinburgh with my mother, to see a very large painting, representing the quarter-deck of the "Venerable," Admiral Duncan, as large as life, standing upright, and the Dutch Admiral, De Winter, presenting his sword to my father. Another representation of the same scene may be seen among the numerous pictures of naval battles which decorate the walls of the great hall at Greenwich Hospital. Many years afterwards I was surprised to see an engraving of this very picture in the public library at Milan. I did not know that one existed.

At a great entertainment given to Lord Duncan by the East India Company, then in great power, the President asked my father, who sat at his left hand, if he had any relation in India? He replied, "My eldest son is in the Company's military service." "Then," said the President, "he shall be a Writer, the highest appointment in my power to bestow." I cannot tell how thankful we were; for, instead of a separation of almost a lifetime, it gave hopes that my brother might make a sufficient fortune in a few years to enable him to come home. There was a great review of the troops at Calcutta, under a burning sun; my brother returned to the barracks, sun-struck, where he found his appointment, and died that evening, at the age of twenty-one.

* * * * *

[My mother has often told us of her heart-broken parting with this brother on his going to India. It was then almost for a lifetime, and he was her favourite brother, and the companion of her childhood. He must have been wonderfully handsome, judging from a beautifully-painted miniature which we have of him.]

* * * * *

Public events became more and more exciting every day, and difficulties occurred at home. There had been bad harvests, and there was a great scarcity of bread; the people were much distressed, and the manufacturing towns in England were almost in a state of revolution; but the fear of invasion kept them quiet. I gloried in the brilliant success of our arms by land and by sea; and although I should have been glad if the people had resisted oppression at home, when we were threatened with invasion, I would have died to prevent a Frenchman from landing on our coast. No one can imagine the intense excitement which pervaded all ranks at that time. Every one was armed, and, notwithstanding the alarm, we could not but laugh at the awkward, and often ridiculous, figures of our old acquaintances, when at drill in uniform. At that time I went to visit my relations at Jedburgh. Soon after my arrival, we were awakened in the middle of the night by the Yeomanry entering the town at full gallop. The beacons were burning on the top of the Cheviots and other hills, as a signal that the French had landed. When day came, every preparation was made; but it was a false alarm.

The rapid succession of victories by sea and land was intensely exciting. We always illuminated our house, and went to the rocky bank in our southern garden to see the illumination of Edinburgh, Leith, and the shipping in the Roads, which was inexpressibly beautiful, though there was no gas in those times. It often happened that balls were given by the officers of the ships of war that came occasionally to Leith Roads, and I was always invited, but never allowed to go; for my mother thought it foolish to run the risk of crossing the Firth, a distance of seven miles, at a late hour, in a small open boat and returning in the morning, as the weather was always uncertain, and the sea often rough from tide and wind. On one occasion, my father was at home, and, though it was blowing hard, I thought he would not object to accepting the invitation; but he said, "Were it a matter of duty, you should go, even at the risk of your life, but for a ball, certainly not."

We were as poor as ever, even more so; for my father was led into unavoidable expenses in London; so, after all the excitement, we returned to our more than usually economical life. No events worth mentioning happened for a long time. I continued my diversified pursuits as usual; had they been more concentrated, it would have been better; but there was no choice; for I had not the means of pursuing any one as far as I could wish, nor had I any friend to whom I could apply for direction or information. I was often deeply depressed at spending so much time to so little purpose.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: The late Justice Coltman told us, when he and Lady Coltman came to see my father and mother at Siena, that he recollected when he first went the circuit seeing more than twenty people hanged at once at York, chiefly for horse-stealing and such offences.—EDITOR.]



CHAPTER V.

FIRST MARRIAGE (1804)—WIDOWHOOD—STUDIES—SECOND MARRIAGE.

[Mr. Samuel Greig was a distant relation of the Charters family. His father, an officer in the British navy, had been sent by our government, at the request of the Empress Catharine, to organize the Russian navy. Mr. Greig came to the Firth of Forth on board a Russian frigate, and was received by the Fairfaxes at Burntisland with Scotch hospitality, as a cousin. He eventually married my mother; not, however, until he had obtained the Russian consulship, and settled permanently in London, for Russia was then governed in the most arbitrary and tyrannical manner, and was neither a safe nor a desirable residence, and my grandfather only gave his consent to the marriage on this condition. My mother says:—]

* * * * *

My cousin, Samuel Greig, commissioner of the Russian navy, and Russian consul for Britain, came to pay us a visit, and ultimately became my husband. Fortune I had none, and my mother could only afford to give me a very moderate trousseau, consisting chiefly of fine personal and household linen. When I was going away she gave me twenty pounds to buy a shawl or something warm for the following winter. I knew that the President of the Academy of Painting, Sir Arthur Shee, had painted a portrait of my father immediately after the battle of Camperdown, and I went to see it. The likeness pleased me,—the price was twenty pounds; so instead of a warm shawl I bought my father's picture, which I have since given to my nephew, Sir William George Fairfax. My husband's brother, Sir Alexis Greig, who commanded the Russian naval force in the Black Sea for more than twenty years, came to London about this time, and gave me some furs, which were very welcome. Long after this, I applied to Sir Alexis, at the request of Dr. Whewell, Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, and through his interest an order was issued by the Russian Government for simultaneous observations to be made of the tides on every sea-coast of the empire.

LETTER FROM DR. WHEWELL TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

UNIVERSITY CLUB, Jan. 5, 1838.

MY DEAR MRS. SOMERVILLE,

I enclose a memorandum respecting tide observations, to which subject I am desirous of drawing the attention of the Russian Government. Nobody knows better than you do how much remains to be done respecting the tides, and what important results any advance in that subject would have. I hope, through your Russian friends, you may have the means of bringing this memorandum to the notice of the administration of their navy, so as to lead to some steps being taken, in the way of directing observations to be made. The Russian Government has shown so much zeal in promoting science, that I hope it will not be difficult to engage them in a kind of research so easy, so useful practically, and so interesting in its theoretical bearing.

Believe me, dear Mrs. Somerville, Very faithfully yours, W. WHEWELL.

* * * * *

My husband had taken me to his bachelor's house in London, which was exceedingly small and ill ventilated. I had a key of the neighbouring square, where I used to walk. I was alone the whole of the day, so I continued my mathematical and other pursuits, but under great disadvantages; for although my husband did not prevent me from studying, I met with no sympathy whatever from him, as he had a very low opinion of the capacity of my sex, and had neither knowledge of nor interest in science of any kind. I took lessons in French, and learnt to speak it so as to be understood. I had no carriage, so went to the nearest church; but, accustomed to our Scotch Kirk, I never could sympathise with the coldness and formality of the service of the Church of England. However, I thought it my duty to go to church and join where I could in prayer with the congregation.

There was no Italian Opera in Edinburgh; the first time I went to one was in London as chaperone to Countess Catharine Woronzow, afterwards Countess of Pembroke, who was godmother to my eldest son. I sometimes spent the evening with her, and occasionally dined at the embassy; but went nowhere else till we became acquainted with the family of Mr. Thomson Bonar, a rich Russian merchant, who lived in great luxury at a beautiful villa at Chiselhurst, in the neighbourhood of London, which has since become the refuge of the ex-Emperor Napoleon the Third and the Empress Eugenie. The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar,—kind, excellent people,—with two sons and a daughter, all grown up. We were invited from time to time to spend ten days or a fortnight with them, which I enjoyed exceedingly. I had been at a riding school in Edinburgh, and rode tolerably, but had little practice, as we could not afford to keep horses. On our first visit, Mrs. Bonar asked me if I would ride with her, as there was a good lady's horse to spare, but I declined. Next day I said, "I should like to ride with you." "Why did you not go out with me yesterday?" she asked. "Because I had heard so much of English ladies' riding, that I thought you would clear all the hedges and ditches, and that I should be left behind lying on the ground." I spent many pleasant days with these dear good people; and no words can express the horror I felt when we heard that they had been barbarously murdered in their bedroom. The eldest son and daughter had been at a ball somewhere near, and on coming home they found that one of the men-servants had dashed out the brains of both their parents with a poker. The motive remains a mystery to this day, for it was not robbery.

* * * * *

[After three years of married life, my mother returned to her father's house in Burntisland, a widow, with two little boys. The youngest died in childhood. The eldest was Woronzow Greig, barrister-at-law, late Clerk of the Peace for Surrey. He died suddenly in 1865, to the unspeakable sorrow of his family, and the regret of all who knew him.]

* * * * *

I was much out of health after my husband's death, and chiefly occupied with my children, especially with the one I was nursing; but as I did not go into society, I rose early, and, having plenty of time, I resumed my mathematical studies. By this time I had studied plane and spherical trigonometry, conic sections, and Fergusson's "Astronomy." I think it was immediately after my return to Scotland that I attempted to read Newton's "Principia." I found it extremely difficult, and certainly did not understand it till I returned to it some time after, when I studied that wonderful work with great assiduity, and wrote numerous notes and observations on it. I obtained a loan of what I believe was called the Jesuit's edition, which helped me. At this period mathematical science was at a low ebb in Britain; reverence for Newton had prevented men from adopting the "Calculus," which had enabled foreign mathematicians to carry astronomical and mechanical science to the highest perfection. Professors Ivory and de Morgan afterwards adopted the "Calculus"; but several years elapsed before Mr. Herschel and Mr. Babbage were joint-editors with Professor Peacock in publishing an abridged translation of La Croix's "Treatise on the Differential and Integral Calculus." I became acquainted with Mr. Wallace, who was, if I am not mistaken, mathematical teacher of the Military College at Marlow, and editor of a mathematical journal published there. I had solved some of the problems contained in it and sent them to him, which led to a correspondence, as Mr. Wallace sent me his own solutions in return. Mine were sometimes right and sometimes wrong, and it occasionally happened that we solved the same problem by different methods. At last I succeeded in solving a prize problem! It was a diophantine problem, and I was awarded a silver medal cast on purpose with my name, which pleased me exceedingly.

Mr. Wallace was elected Professor of Mathematics in the University of Edinburgh, and was very kind to me. When I told him that I earnestly desired to go through a regular course of mathematical and astronomical science, even including the highest branches, he gave me a list of the requisite books, which were in French, and consisted of Francoeur's pure "Mathematics," and his "Elements of Mechanics," La Croix's "Algebra," and his large work on the "Differential and Integral Calculus," together with his work on "Finite Differences and Series," Biot's "Analytical Geometry and Astronomy," Poisson's "Treatise on Mechanics," La Grange's "Theory of Analytical Functions," Euler's "Algebra," Euler's "Isoperimetrical Problems" (in Latin), Clairault's "Figure of the Earth," Monge's "Application of Analysis to Geometry," Callet's "Logarithms," La Place's "Mecanique Celeste," and his "Analytical Theory of Probabilities," &c., &c., &c.[6]

I was thirty-three years of age when I bought this excellent little library. I could hardly believe that I possessed such a treasure when I looked back on the day that I first saw the mysterious word "Algebra," and the long course of years in which I had persevered almost without hope. It taught me never to despair. I had now the means, and pursued my studies with increased assiduity; concealment was no longer possible, nor was it attempted. I was considered eccentric and foolish, and my conduct was highly disapproved of by many, especially by some members of my own family, as will be seen hereafter. They expected me to entertain and keep a gay house for them, and in that they were disappointed. As I was quite independent, I did not care for their criticism. A great part of the day I was occupied with my children; in the evening I worked, played piquet with my father, or played on the piano, sometimes with violin accompaniment.

* * * * *

This was the most brilliant period of the Edinburgh Review; it was planned and conducted with consummate talent by a small society of men of the most liberal principles. Their powerful articles gave a severe and lasting blow to the oppressive and illiberal spirit which had hitherto prevailed. I became acquainted with some of these illustrious men, and with many of their immediate successors. I then met Henry Brougham, who had so remarkable an influence on my future life. His sister had been my early companion, and while visiting her I saw her mother—a fine, intelligent old lady, a niece of Robertson the historian. I had seen the Rev. Sydney Smith, that celebrated wit and able contributor to the Review, at Burntisland, where he and his wife came for sea-bathing. Long afterwards we lived on the most friendly terms till their deaths. Of that older group no one was more celebrated than Professor Playfair. He knew that I was reading the "Mecanique Celeste," and asked me how I got on? I told him that I was stopped short by a difficulty now and then, but I persevered till I got over it. He said, "You would do better to read on for a few pages and return to it again, it will then no longer seem so difficult." I invariably followed his advice and with much success.

Professor Playfair was a man of the most varied accomplishments and of the highest scientific distinction. He was an elderly man when I first became acquainted with him, by no means good-looking, but with a benevolent expression, somewhat concealed by the large spectacles he always wore. His manner was gravely cheerful; he was perfectly amiable, and was both respected and loved, but he could be a severe though just critic. He liked female society, and, philosopher as he was, marked attention from the sex obviously flattered him.

I had now read a good deal on the higher branches of mathematics and physical astronomy, but as I never had been taught, I was afraid that I might imagine that I understood the subjects when I really did not; so by Professor Wallace's advice I engaged his brother to read with me, and the book I chose to study with him was the "Mecanique Celeste." Mr. John Wallace was a good mathematician, but I soon found that I understood the subject as well as he did. I was glad, however, to have taken this resolution, as it gave me confidence in myself and consequently courage to persevere. We had advanced but little in this work when my marriage with my cousin, William Somerville (1812), put an end to scientific pursuits for a time.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 6: These books and all the other mathematical works belonging to my mother at the time of her death have been presented to the College for Women, at Girton, Cambridge.]



CHAPTER VI.

SOMERVILLE FAMILY—DR. SOMERVILLE'S CHARACTER—LETTERS—JOURNEY TO THE LAKES—DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM FAIRFAX—REMINISCENCES OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.

[With regard to my father's family, I cannot do better than quote what my grandfather, the Rev. Thomas Somerville, says in his "Life and Times":—"I am a descendant of the ancient family of Somerville of Cambusnethan, which was a branch of the Somervilles of Drum, ennobled in the year 1424. Upon the death of George Somerville, of Corhouse, fifty years ago, I became the only male representative of the family." There is a quaint old chronicle, entitled "Memorie of the Somervilles," written by James, eleventh Lord Somerville, who died in 1690, which was printed for private distribution, and edited by Sir Walter Scott, and gives ample details of all the branches of our family. Although infinitely too prolix for our nineteenth century ideas, it contains many curious anecdotes and pictures of Scottish life.

My father was the eldest son of the minister of Jedburgh, and until his marriage with my mother, had lived almost entirely abroad and in our colonies. It was always a subject of regret to my mother that my father never could be induced to publish an account of his important travels in South Africa, for which he had ample materials in the notes he brought home, many of which we still possess. Without being very deeply learned on any one special subject, he was generally well-informed, and very intelligent. He was an excellent classical scholar, and could repeat long passages from Horace and other authors. He had a lively interest in all branches of natural history, was a good botanist and mineralogist, and could take note of all the strange animals, plants, or minerals he saw in his adventurous journies in the countries, now colonized, but then the hunting-grounds of Caffres and other uncivilized tribes. He was the first white man who penetrated so far into the country, and it was not without great risk. Indeed, on one occasion he was sentenced to death by a Caffre chief, and only saved by the interposition of the chief's mother.

My father's style in writing English was singularly pure and correct, and he was very fastidious on this topic—a severe critic, whether in correcting the children's lessons or in reading over the last proof sheets of my mother's works previous to their publication. These qualities would have fitted him very well to write the history of his travels, but he disliked the trouble of it, and, never having the slightest ambition on his own account, he let the time for publication slip by. Others travelled over the country he first explored, and the novelty was at an end. He was far happier in helping my mother in various ways, searching the libraries for the books she required, indefatigably copying and recopying her manuscripts, to save her time. No trouble seemed too great which he bestowed upon her; it was a labour of love. My father was most kindhearted, and I have often heard my mother say how many persons he had assisted in life, and what generous actions he had done, many of them requited with ingratitude, and with betrayal of confidence. From the way my mother speaks of their life, it can be seen how happy was their marriage and how much sympathy there was between them. Speaking of his son's marriage with my mother, the Rev. Dr. Somerville says, in his "Life and Times," page 390: "To myself this connection was on every account peculiarly gratifying. Miss Fairfax had been born and nursed in my house; her father being at that time abroad on public service. She afterwards often resided in my family, was occasionally my scholar, and was looked upon by me and my wife as if she had been one of our own children. I can truly say, that next to them she was the object of our most tender regard. Her ardent thirst for knowledge, her assiduous application to study, and her eminent proficiency in science and the fine arts, have procured her a celebrity rarely obtained by any of her sex. But she never displays any pretensions to superiority, while the affability of her temper, and the gentleness of her manners afford constant sources of gratification to her friends. But what, above all other circumstances, rendered my son's choice acceptable to me, was that it had been the anxious, though secret, desire of my dear wife." I have already said that this esteem and affection of her father-in-law was warmly responded to by my mother. The following letter from her to him shows it vividly:—]

LETTER FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO THE REV. DR. SOMERVILLE.

EDINBURGH, 1st June, 1812.

MY DEAR SIR,

I have this moment been gratified and delighted with your excellent and affectionate letter; the intercourse we have so long enjoyed has always been a source of the purest pleasure to me, and the kind interest you have taken from my infancy in my welfare was at all times highly flattering, and much valued; but now that the sacred name of Father is added, nothing is wanting to complete my happiness; and you may rest assured that William is not more anxious to hasten our visit to Jedburgh than I am.... With the affectionate love of all here,

I remain your ever most affectionate daughter, MARY SOMERVILLE.

P.S.—I am much flattered by the Latin quotation, and feel happy that your instructions have enabled me to read it.

* * * * *

[I will now proceed with the extracts from my mother's Recollections:—]

* * * * *

My husband had been present at the taking of the Cape of Good Hope, and was sent by the authorities to make a treaty with the savage tribes on the borders of the colony, who had attacked the boors, or Dutch farmers, and carried off their cattle. In this journey he was furnished with a waggon and accompanied by Mr. Daniel, a good artist, who made drawings of the scenery, as well as of the animals and people. The savage tribes again became troublesome, and in a second expedition my cousin was only accompanied by a faithful Hottentot as interpreter. They were both mounted, and each led a spare horse with such things as were absolutely necessary, and when they bivouacked where, for fear of the natives, they did not dare light a fire to keep off the wild beasts, one kept watch while the other slept. After many adventures and dangers, my husband reached the Orange River, and was the first white man who had ever been in that part of Africa. He afterwards served in Canada and in Sicily at the head of the medical staff, under his friend General Sir James Craig. On returning to England he generally lived in London, so that he was seldom with his family, with whom he was not a favourite on account of his liberal principles, the very circumstance that was an attraction to me. He had lived in the world, was extremely handsome, had gentlemanly manners, spoke good English, and was emancipated from Scotch prejudices.

I had been living very quietly with my parents and children, so until I was engaged to my cousin I was not aware of the extreme severity with which my conduct was criticised by his family, and I have no doubt by many others; for as soon as our engagement was known I received a most impertinent letter from one of his sisters, who was unmarried, and younger than I, saying, she "hoped I would give up my foolish manner of life and studies, and make a respectable and useful wife to her brother." I was extremely indignant. My husband was still more so, and wrote a severe and angry letter to her; none of the family dared to interfere again. I lived in peace with her, but there was a coldness and reserve between us ever after. I forgot to mention that during my widowhood I had several offers of marriage. One of the persons whilst he was paying court to me, sent me a volume of sermons with the page ostentatiously turned down at a sermon on the Duties of a Wife, which were expatiated upon in the most illiberal and narrow-minded language. I thought this as impertinent as it was premature; sent back the book and refused the proposal.

My uncle, the Rev. Dr. Somerville, was delighted with my marriage with his son, for he was liberal, and sincerely attached to me. We were married by his intimate friend, Sir Henry Moncreiff Wellwood, and set off for the lakes in Cumberland. My husband's second sister, Janet, resolved to go with us, and she succeeded through the influence of my aunt, now my mother-in-law—a very agreeable, but bold, determined person, who was always very kind and sincerely attached to me. We were soon followed by my cousin, Samuel Somerville and his wife. We had only been a day or two in the little inn at Lowood when he was taken ill of a fever, which detained us there for more than a month. During his illness he took a longing for currant jelly, and here my cookery was needed; I made some that was excellent, and I never can forget the astonishment expressed at my being able to be so useful.

Somerville and I proceeded to London; and we managed to obtain a good position near Temple Bar to see the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia and his sons, Blucher, Platoff, the Hetman of the Cossacks, &c., &c., enter the City. There was a brilliant illumination in the evening, and great excitement. We often saw these noted persons afterwards, but we did not stay long in London, as my husband was appointed head of the Army Medical Department in Scotland, so we settled in Edinburgh. As he was allowed to have a secretary, he made choice of Donald Finlayson, a young man of great learning and merit, who was to act as tutor to my son, Woronzow Greig, then attending the High School, of which Mr. Pillans was master. Mr. Finlayson was a remarkably good Greek scholar, and my husband said, "Why not take advantage of such an opportunity of improvement?" So I read Homer for an hour every morning before breakfast. Mr. Finlayson joined the army as surgeon, and distinguished himself by his courage and humanity during the battle of Waterloo; but he was lost in the march of the army to Paris, and his brother George, after having sought for him in vain, came to live with us in his stead. He excelled in botany, and here again, by my husband's advice, I devoted a morning hour to that science, though I was nursing a baby at the time. I knew the vulgar name of most of the plants that Mr. Finlayson had gathered, but now I was taught systematically, and afterwards made a herbarium, both of land plants and fuci. This young man's hopeful career was early arrested by his love of science, for he died of jungle fever in Bengal, caught while in search of plants.

Professor Playfair was now old, and resigned his chair, which Mr. Leslie was perfectly competent to fill on account of his acknowledged scientific acquirements; but, being suspected of heretical opinions, his appointment was keenly opposed, especially on the part of the clergy, and a violent contest arose, which ended in his favour. We became acquainted with him and liked him. He was a man of original genius, full of information on a variety of subjects, agreeable in conversation and good natured, but with a singular vanity as to personal appearance. Though one of the coarsest looking men I ever knew, he talked so much of polish and refinement that it tempted Mr. William Clerk, of Eldin, to make a very clever clay model of his ungainly figure. The professor's hair was grey, and he dyed it with something that made it purple; and, as at that time the art was not brought to its present perfection, the operation was tedious and only employed at intervals, so that the professor's hair was often white at the roots and dark purple at the extremities. He was always falling in love, and, to Somerville's inexpressible amusement, he made me his decoy duck, inviting me to see some experiments, which he performed dexterously; at the same time telling me to bring as many young ladies as I chose, especially Miss——, for he was sure she had a turn for science. He was unfortunate in his aspirations, and remained a bachelor to the end of his life.

* * * * *

It was the custom in Edinburgh, especially among the clergy, to dine between the morning and evening service on Sundays, and to sup at nine or ten o'clock. In no family were these suppers more agreeable or cheerful than in that of Sir Henry Moncreiff Wellwood, minister of the West Kirk. There were always a few of the friends of Sir Henry and Lady Moncreiff present, and we were invited occasionally. There was a substantial hot supper of roasted fowls, game, or lamb, and afterwards a lively, animated conversation on a variety of subjects, without a shade of austerity, though Sir Henry was esteemed an orthodox preacher.

There was an idiot in Edinburgh, the son of a respectable family, who had a remarkable memory. He never failed to go to the Kirk on Sunday, and on returning home could repeat the sermon word for word, saying, Here the minister coughed, Here he stopped to blow his nose. During the tour we made in the Highlands we met with another idiot who knew the Bible so perfectly that if you asked him where such a verse was to be found, he could tell without hesitation, and repeat the chapter. The common people in Scotland at that time had a kind of serious compassion for these harmless idiots, because "the hand of God was upon them."

The wise as well as the foolish are sometimes endowed with a powerful memory. Dr. Gregory, an eminent Edinburgh physician, one of the cleverest and most agreeable men I ever met with, was a remarkable instance of this. He wrote and spoke Latin fluently, and Somerville, who was a good Latinist, met with a Latin quotation in some book he was reading, but not knowing from whence it was taken, asked his friend Dr. Gregory. "It is forty years since I read that author," said Dr. Gregory, "but I think you will find the passage in the middle of such a page." Somerville went for the book, and at the place mentioned there it was.

* * * * *

I had the grief to lose my dear father at this time. He had served sixty-seven years in the British Navy, and must have been twice on the North American station, for he was present at the taking of Quebec by General Wolfe, in 1759, and afterwards during the War of Independence. After the battle of Camperdown he was made a Colonel of Marines, and died, in 1813, Vice-Admiral of the Red.

* * * * *

Geology, which has now been so far advanced as a science, was still in its infancy. Professor Playfair and Mr. Hutton had written on the subject; and in my gay young days, when Lady Helen Hall was occasionally my chaperone, I had heard that Sir James Hall had taken up the subject, but I did not care about it; I am certain that at that time I had never heard the word Geology. I think it was now, on going with Somerville to see the Edinburgh Museum, that I recognised the fossil plants I had seen in the coal limestone on the sands at the Links of Burntisland. Ultimately Geology became a favourite pursuit of ours, but then minerals were the objects of our joint study. Mineralogy had been much cultivated on the Continent by this time, especially in Germany. It had been established as a science by Werner, who was educated at an institution near the silver mines of Friburg, where he afterwards lectured on the properties of crystals, and had many pupils. In one of our tours on the Continent, Somerville and I went to see these silver mines and bought some specimens for our cabinet. The French took up the subject with great zeal, and the Abbe Hauey's work became a standard book on the science. Cabinets of minerals had been established in the principal cities of Great Britain, professors were appointed in the Universities, and collections of minerals were not uncommon in private houses. While quite a girl, I went with my parents to visit the Fergusons of Raith, near Kirkcaldy, and there I saw a magnificent collection of minerals, made by their son while abroad. It contained gems of great value and crystallized specimens of precious and other metals, which surprised and interested me; but seeing that such valuable things could never be obtained by me, I thought no more about them. In those early days I had every difficulty to contend with; now, through the kindness and liberal opinions of my husband, I had every encouragement. He took up the study of mineralogy with zeal, and I heartily joined with him. We made the acquaintance of Professor Jameson, a pupil of Werner's, whose work on mineralogy was of great use to us. We began to form a cabinet of minerals, which, although small, were good of their kind. We were criticized for extravagance, and, no doubt I had the lion's share of blame; but more of minerals hereafter.

* * * * *

Abbotsford is only twelve miles distant from Jedburgh, and my father-in-law, Dr. Somerville, and Sir Walter Scott had been intimate friends for many years, indeed through life. The house at Abbotsford was at first a mere cottage, on the banks of the Tweed; my brother-in-law, Samuel, had a villa adjacent to it, and John, Lord Somerville, had a house and property on the opposite bank of the river, to which he came every spring for salmon fishing. He was a handsome, agreeable man, had been educated in England, and as he thought he should never live in Scotland, he sold the family estate of Drum, within five miles of Edinburgh, which he afterwards regretted, and bought the property on the Tweed he then inhabited.

There was great intimacy between the three families, and the society was often enlivened by Adam Ferguson and Willie Clerk, whom we had met with at Raith. I shall never forget the charm of this little society, especially the supper-parties at Abbotsford, when Scott was in the highest glee, telling amusing tales, ancient legends, ghost and witch stories. Then Adam Ferguson would sing the "Laird of Cockpen," and other comic songs, and Willie Clerk amused us with his dry wit. When it was time to go away all rose, and, standing hand-in-hand round the table, Scott taking the lead, we sang in full chorus,

Weel may we a' be, Ill may we never see; Health to the king And the gude companie.

At that time no one knew who was the author of the Waverley Novels. There was much speculation and curiosity on the subject. While talking about one which had just been published, my son Woronzow said, "I knew all these stories long ago, for Mr. Scott writes on the dinner-table. When he has finished, he puts the green-cloth with the papers in a corner of the dining-room; and when he goes out, Charlie Scott and I read the stories." My son's tutor was the original of Dominie Sampson in "Guy Mannering." The "Memorie of the Somervilles" was edited by Walter Scott, from an ancient and very quaint manuscript found in the archives of the family, and from this he takes passages which he could not have found elsewhere. Although the work was printed it was never published, but copies were distributed to the different members of the family. One was of course given to my husband.

The Burning of the Water, so well described by Walter Scott in "Redgauntlet," we often witnessed. The illumination of the banks of the river, the activity of the men striking the salmon with the "leisters," and the shouting of the people when a fish was struck, was an animated, and picturesque, but cruel scene.

Sophia Scott, afterwards married to Mr. Lockhart, editor of the "Quarterly Review," was the only one of Sir Walter's family who had talent. She was not pretty, but remarkably engaging and agreeable, and possessed her father's joyous disposition as well as his memory and fondness for ancient Border legends and poetry. Like him, she was thoroughly alive to peculiarities of character, and laughed at them good-naturedly. She was not a musician, had little voice, but she sang Scotch songs and translations from the Gaelic with, or without, harp accompaniment; the serious songs with so much expression, and the merry ones with so much spirit, that she charmed everybody. The death of her brothers and of her father, to whom she was devotedly attached, cast a shade over the latter part of her life. Mr. Lockhart was clever and an able writer, but he was too sarcastic to be quite agreeable; however, we were always on the most friendly terms. He was of a Lanarkshire family and distantly related to Somerville. After the death of his wife and sons, Lockhart fell into bad health and lost much of his asperity.

Scott was ordered to go abroad for health and relaxation. Somerville and I happened to be at the seaport where he embarked, and we went to take leave of him. He kissed me, and said, "Farewell, my dear; I am going to die abroad like other British novelists." Happy would it have been if God had so willed it,[7] for he returned completely broken down, and his hopes blighted. In a few years his only remaining descendant was a grand-daughter, the only surviving child of Mrs. Lockhart, Charlotte who married Mr. James Hope, and soon died, leaving an only daughter, now the last descendant of Sir Walter Scott. Thus the "Merry, merry days that I have seen," ended very sadly.

* * * * *

When at Jedburgh, I never failed to visit James Veitch, who was Laird of Inchbonny, a small property beautifully situated in the valley of the Jed, at a short distance from the manse. He was a plough-wright, a hard-working man, but of rare genius, who taught himself mathematics and astronomy in the evenings with wonderful success, for he knew the motions of the planets, calculated eclipses and occultations, was versed in various scientific subjects, and made excellent telescopes, of which I bought a very small one; it was the only one I ever possessed. Veitch was handsome, with a singularly fine bald forehead and piercing eyes, that quite looked through one. He was perfectly aware of his talents, shrewd, and sarcastic. His fame had spread, and he had many visits, of which he was impatient, as it wasted his time. He complained especially of those from ladies not much skilled in science, saying, "What should they do but ask silly questions, when they spend their lives in doing naething but spatting muslin?" Veitch was strictly religious and conscientious, observing the Sabbath day with great solemnity; and I had the impression that he was stern to his wife, who seemed to be a person of intelligence, for I remember seeing her come from the washing-tub to point out the planet Venus while it was still daylight.

The return of Halley's comet, in 1835, exactly at the computed time, was a great astronomical event, as it was the first comet of long period clearly proved to belong to our system. I was asked by Mr. John Murray to write an article on the subject for the "Quarterly Review." After it was published, I received a letter from James Veitch, reproaching me for having mentioned that a peasant in Hungary was the first to see Halley's comet, and for having omitted to say that, "a peasant at Inchbonny was the first to see the comet of 1811, the greatest that had appeared for a century." I regretted, on receiving this letter, that I either had not known, or had forgotten the circumstance. Veitch has been long dead, but I avail myself of this opportunity of making the amende honorable to a man of great mental power and acquirements who had struggled through difficulties, unaided, as I have done myself.

LETTER FROM JAMES VEITCH TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

INCHBONNY, 12th October, 1836.

DEAR MADAM,

I saw in the Quarterly review for December 1885 page 216 that the comet 1682 was discovered by a Peasent, George Palitzch residing in the neighbourhood of Dresden on the 25th of December 1758 with a small Telescope. But no mention is made of the Peasent at Inchbonny who first discovered the beautiful comet 1811. You will remember when Dr. Wollaston was at Inchbonny I put a difficult question to him that I could not solve about the focal distance of optic glasses when the Dr. got into a passion and said: Had he problems in his pocket ready to pull out in every occasion? and with an angry look at me said, You pretend to be the first that discovered the comet altho' it has been looked for by men of science for some time back. Now I never heard of such a thing and you will perhaps know something about it as the Dr. would not be mistaken. After we got acquainted, the Dr. was a warm friend of mine and I have often regretted that I had not improved the opportunity I had when he was here on many things he was master off. What ever others had known or expected I knew nothing about, But I know this, that on the 27th of August 1811 I first saw it in the NNW. part of the Heavens nigh the star marked 26 on the shoulder of the little Lion and continued tracing its path among the fixed stars untill it disappeared and it was generally admitted that I had discovered it four days before any other person in Britain. However Mr. Thomas Dick on the Diffusion of Knowledge page 101 and 102 has made the following observation 'The splendid comet which appeared in our hemisphere in 1811 was first discovered in this country by a sawer. The name of this Gentleman is Mr. Veitch and I believe he resides in the neighbourhood of Kelso who with a Reflecting telescope of his own construction and from his sawpit as an observatory, descried that celestial visitant before it had been noticed by any other astronomer in North Britain.' A strange story—a sawer and a gentleman; and what is stranger still Mr. Baily would not have any place but the sawpit for his observatory on the 15th May last. I am sorry to say with all the improvement and learning that we can boast of in the present day Halley's comet the predictions have not been fulfilled, either with respect to time or place. Thus on the 10 October, at 50 minutes past 5 in the evening the Right ascension of the comet was 163 deg. 37', with 63 deg. 38' of north declination but by the nautical almanac for the 10 October its right ascension ought to have been 225 deg. 2' 6, and its declination 29 deg. 33'. Hence the difference is no less than 61 deg. in Right ascension and 34 deg. in declination. When you have time, write me.

Dear Madam, I remain, Yours sincerely, JAMES VEITCH.

Sir David Brewster was many years younger than James Veitch; in his early years he assisted his father in teaching the parish-school at Jedburgh, and in the evenings he went to Inchbonny to study astronomy with James Veitch, who always called him Davie. They were as much puzzled about the meaning of the word parallax as I had been with regard to the word algebra, and only learnt what it meant when Brewster went to study for the kirk in Edinburgh. They were both very devout; nevertheless, Brewster soon gave up the kirk for science, and he devoted himself especially to optics, in which he made so many discoveries. Sir David was of ordinary height, with fair or sandy-coloured hair and blue eyes. He was by no means good-looking, yet with a very pleasant, amiable expression; in conversation he was cheerful and agreeable when quite at ease, but of a timid, nervous, and irritable temperament, often at war with his fellow-philosophers upon disputed subjects, and extremely jealous upon priority of discovery. I was much indebted to Sir David, for he reviewed my book on the "Connexion of the Physical Sciences," in the April number of the "Edinburgh Review" for 1834, and the "Physical Geography" in the April number of the "North British Review," both favourably.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 7: Sir Walter died Sept. 21, 1832, in the presence of his two sons and two daughters.]



CHAPTER VII.

LIFE IN HANOVER SQUARE—VISIT TO FRANCE—ARAGO—CUVIER—ROME.

[My father was appointed, in 1816, a member of the Army Medical Board, and it became necessary for him to reside in London. He and my mother accordingly wished farewell to Scotland, and proceeded to take up their residence in Hanover Square. My mother preserved the following recollections of this journey:—]

* * * * *

On our way we stopped a day at Birmingham, on purpose to see Watt and Boulton's manufactory of steam engines at Soho. Mr. Boulton showed us everything. The engines, some in action, although beautifully smooth, showed a power that was almost fearful. Since these early forms of the steam engine I have lived to see this all but omnipotent instrument change the locomotion of the whole civilized world by sea and by land.

Soon after our arrival in London we became acquainted with the illustrious family of the Herschels, through the kindness of our friend Professor Wallace, for it was by his arrangement that we spent a day with Sir William and Lady Herschel, at Slough. Nothing could exceed the kindness of Sir William. He made us examine his celebrated telescopes, and explained their mechanism; and he showed us the manuscripts which recorded the numerous astronomical discoveries he had made. They were all arranged in the most perfect order, as was also his musical library, for that great genius was an excellent musician. Unfortunately, his sister, Miss Caroline Herschel, who shared in the talents of the family, was abroad, but his son, afterwards Sir John, my dear friend for many years, was at home, quite a youth. It would be difficult to name a branch of the physical sciences which he has not enriched by important discoveries. He has ever been a dear and valued friend to me, whose advice and criticism I gratefully acknowledge.

* * * * *

I took lessons twice a week from Mr. Glover, who painted landscapes very prettily, and I liked him on account of his kindness to animals, especially birds, which he tamed so that they flew before him when he walked, or else sat on the trees, and returned to him when he whistled. I regret now that I ever resumed my habit of painting in oil; water-colours are much better suited to an amateur, but as I had never seen any that were good, I was not aware of their beauty.

I also took lessons in mineralogy from Mrs. Lowry, a Jewess, the wife of an eminent line engraver, who had a large collection of minerals, and in the evening Somerville and I amused ourselves with our own, which were not numerous.

Our house in Hanover Square was within a walking distance of many of our friends, and of the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street, where I attended the lectures, and Somerville frequently went with me. The discoveries of Sir Humphry Davy made this a memorable epoch in the annals of chemical science. At this time there was much talk about the celebrated Count Rumford's steam kitchen, by which food was to be cooked at a very small expense of fuel. It was adopted by several people, and among others by Naldi, the opera singer, who invited some friends to dine the first day it was to be used. Before dinner they all went to see the new invention, but while Naldi was explaining its structure, it exploded and killed him on the spot. By this sad accident his daughter, a pretty girl and a good singer, was left destitute. A numerously-attended concert was given for her benefit, at which Somerville and I were present. She was soon after engaged to sing in Paris, but ultimately married the Comte de Sparre, a French gentleman, and left the stage.

When MM. Arago and Biot came to England to continue the French arc of the meridian through Great Britain, they were warmly received by the scientific men in London, and we were always invited to meet them by those whom we knew. They had been told of my turn for science, and that I had read the works of La Place. Biot expressed his surprise at my youth.

* * * * *

One summer Somerville proposed to make a tour in Switzerland, so we set off, and on arriving at Chantilly we were told that we might see the chateau upon giving our cards to the doorkeeper. On reading our name, Mademoiselle de Rohan came to meet us, saying that she had been at school in England with a sister of Lord Somerville's, and was glad to see any of the family. She presented us to the Prince de Conde, a fine-looking old man, who received us very courteously, and sent the lord-in-waiting to show us the grounds, and especially the stables, the only part of the castle left in its regal magnificence after the Revolution. The Prince and the gentleman who accompanied us wore a gaudy uniform like a livery, which we were told was the Chantilly uniform, and that at each palace belonging to the Prince there was a different uniform worn by him and his court.

At Paris we were received with the kindest hospitality by M. and Mme. Arago. I liked her much, she was so gentle and ladylike; he was tall and good-looking, with an animated countenance and black eyes. His character was noble, generous, and singularly energetic; his manners lively and even gay. He was a man of very general information, and, from his excitable temperament, he entered as ardently into the politics and passing events of the time as into science, in which few had more extensive knowledge. On this account I thought his conversation more brilliant than that of any of the French savants with whom I was acquainted. They were living at the Observatory, and M. Arago showed me all the instruments of that magnificent establishment in the minutest detail, which was highly interesting at the time, and proved more useful to me than I was aware of. M. Arago made us acquainted with the Marquis de la Place, and the Marquise, who was quite an elegante. The Marquis was not tall, but thin, upright, and rather formal. He was distinguished in his manners, and I thought there was a little of the courtier in them, perhaps from having been so much at the court of the Emperor Napoleon, who had the highest regard for him. Though incomparably superior to Arago in mathematics and astronomical science, he was inferior to him in general acquirements, so that his conversation was less varied and popular. We were invited to go early and spend a day with them at Arcueil, where they had a country house. M. Arago had told M. de la Place that I had read the "Mecanique Celeste," so we had a great deal of conversation about astronomy and the calculus, and he gave me a copy of his "Systeme du Monde," with his inscription, which pleased me exceedingly. I spoke French very badly, but I was less at a loss on scientific subjects, because almost all my books on science were in French. The party at dinner consisted of MM. Biot, Arago, Bouvard, and Poisson. I sat next M. de la Place, who was exceedingly kind and attentive. In such an assemblage of philosophers I expected a very grave and learned conversation. But not at all! Everyone talked in a gay, animated, and loud key, especially M. Poisson, who had all the vivacity of a Frenchman. Madame Biot, from whom we received the greatest attention, made a party on purpose, as she said, to show us, "les personnes distinguees." Madame Biot was a well-educated woman, and had made a translation from the German of a work, which was published under the name of her husband. The dinner was very good, and Madame Biot was at great pains in placing every one. Those present were Monsieur and Madame Arago, Monsieur and Madame Poisson, who had only been married the day before, and Baron Humboldt. The conversation was lively and entertaining.

The consulate and empire of the first Napoleon was the most brilliant period of physical astronomy in France. La Grange, who proved the stability of the solar system, Laplace, Biot, Arago, Bouvard, and afterwards Poinsot, formed a perfect constellation of undying names; yet the French had been for many years inferior to the English in practical astronomy. The observations made at Greenwich by Bradley, Maskelyne, and Pond, have been so admirably continued under the direction of the present astronomer-royal, Mr. Airy, the first practical astronomer in Europe, that they have furnished data for calculating the astronomical tables both in France and England.

The theatre was at this time very brilliant in Paris. We saw Talma, who was considered to be the first tragedian of the age in the character of Tancrede. I admired the skill with which he overcame the disagreeable effect which the rhyme of the French tragedies has always had on me. Notwithstanding his personal advantages, I thought him a great artist, though inferior to John Kemble. I am afraid my admiration of Shakespeare, my want of sympathy with the artificial style of French tragedy, and perhaps my youthful remembrance of our great tragedian Mrs. Siddons, made me unjust to Mademoiselle Duchenois, who, although ugly, was certainly an excellent actress and a favourite of the public. I was so fond of the theatre that I enjoyed comedy quite as much as tragedy, and was delighted with Mademoiselle Mars, whom we saw in Tartuffe. Some years later I saw her again, when, although an old woman, she still appeared handsome and young upon the stage, and was as graceful and lively as ever.

Soon after our dinner party at Arcueil, we went to pay a morning visit to Madame de la Place. It was late in the day; but she received us in bed elegantly dressed. I think the curtains were of muslin with some gold ornaments, and the coverlet was of rich silk and gold. It was the first time that I had ever seen a lady receive in that manner. Madame Laplace was lively and agreeable; I liked her very much.

We spent a most entertaining day with M. and Madame Cuvier at the Jardin des Plantes, and saw the Museum, and everything in that celebrated establishment. On returning to the house, we found several people had come to spend the evening, and the conversation was carried on with a good deal of spirit; the Countess Albrizzi, a Venetian lady, of high acquirements, joined in it with considerable talent and animation. Cuvier had a very remarkable countenance, not handsome, but agreeable, and his manner was pleasing and modest, and his conversation very interesting. Madame de Stael having died lately, was much discussed. She was much praised for her good-nature, and for the brilliancy of her conversation. They agreed, that the energy of her character, not old age, had worn her out. Cuvier said, the force of her imagination misled her judgment, and made her see things in a light different from all the world. As a proof of this, he mentioned that she makes Corinne lean on a marble lion which is on a tomb in St. Peter's, at Rome, more than twenty feet high. Education was very much discussed. Cuvier said, that when he was sent to inspect the schools at Bordeaux and Marseilles, he found very few of the scholars who could perform a simple calculation in arithmetic; as to science, history, or literature, they were unknown, and the names of the most celebrated French philosophers, famed in other countries, were utterly unknown to those who lived in the provinces. M. Biot had written home, that he had found in Aberdeen not one alone, but many, who perfectly understood the object of his journey, and were competent to converse with him on the subject. Cuvier said such a circumstance constituted one of the striking differences between France and England; for in France science was highly cultivated, but confined to the capital. It was at M. Cuvier's that I first met Mr. Pentland, who made a series of physical and geological observations on the Andes of Peru. I was residing in Italy when I published my "Physical Geography" and Mr. Pentland[8] kindly undertook to carry the book through the press for me. From that time he has been a steady friend, ever ready to get me information, books, or anything I wanted. We became acquainted also with M. Gay-Lussac, who lived in the Jardin des Plantes, and with Baron Larrey, who had been at the head of the medical department of the army in Egypt under the first Napoleon.

* * * * *

At Paris I equipped myself in proper dresses, and we proceeded by Fontainebleau to Geneva, where we found Dr. Marcet, with whom my husband had already been acquainted in London. I, for the first time, met Mrs. Marcet, with whom I have ever lived on terms of affectionate friendship. So many books have now been published for young people, that no one at this time can duly estimate the importance of Mrs. Marcet's scientific works. To them is partly owing that higher intellectual education now beginning to prevail among the better classes in Britain. They produced a great sensation, and went through many editions. Her "Conversations on Chemistry," first opened out to Faraday's mind that field of science in which he became so illustrious, and at the height of his fame he always mentioned Mrs. Marcet with deep reverence.

Through these kind friends we became acquainted with Professors De Candolle, Prevost, and De la Rive. Other distinguished men were also presented to us; among these was Mr. Sismondi, author of the "History of the Italian Republics." Madame Sismondi was a Miss Allen, of a family with whom we were very intimate.

[Some time after her return to England, my mother, desirous of continuing the study of botany, in which she had already attained considerable proficiency, wrote to M. De Candolle, asking his advice, and he sent her the following reply:—]

LETTER FROM M. DE CANDOLLE TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

LONDRES, 5 Juin, 1819.

MADAME,

Vous avez passe les premieres difficultes de l'etude des plantes et vous me faites l'honneur de me consulter sur les moyens d'aller en avant; connaissant votre gout et votre talent pour les sciences les plus relevees je ne craindrai point de vous engager a sortir de la Botanique elementaire et a vous elever aux considerations et aux etudes qui en font une science susceptible d'idees generales, d'applications aux choses utiles et de liaison avec les autres branches des connaissances humaines. Pour cela il faut etudier non plus seulement la nomenclature et l'echafaudage artificiel qui la soutient, mais les rapports des plantes entre elles et avec les elemens exterieurs, ou en d'autres termes, la classification naturelle et la Physiologie.

Pour l'un et l'autre de ces branches de la science il est necessaire en premier lieu de se familiariser avec la structure des plantes consideree dans leur caractere exacte. Vous trouverez un precis abrege de ces caracteres dans le 1^er vol. de la Flore francaise; vous la trouverez plus developpe et accompagne de planches dans les Elemens de Botanique de Michel. Quant a la structure du fruit qui est un des points les plus difficiles et les plus importans, vous allez avoir un bon ouvrage traduit et augmente par un de vos jeunes et habiles compatriotes, Mr. Lindley—c'est l'analyse du fruit de M. Richard. La traduction vaudra mieux que l'original. Outre ces lectures, ce qui vous apprendra surtout la structure des plantes, c'est de les analyser et de les decrire vous-meme d'apres les termes techniques; ce travail deviendrait penible et inutile a faire sur un grand nombre de plantes, et il vaut mieux ne le faire que sur un tres petit nombre d'especes choisies dans des classes tres distinctes. Quelques descriptions faites aussi completes qu'il vous sera possible vous apprendra plus que tous les livres.

Des que vous connaitrez bien les organes et concurremment avec cette etude vous devrez chercher a prendre une idee de la classification naturelle. Je crains de vous paraitre presomptueux en vous engageant a lire d'abord sous ce point de vue ma Theorie elementaire. Apres ces etudes ou a peu pres en meme temps pour profiter de la saison, vous ferez bien de rapporter aux ordres naturels toutes les plantes que vous aurez recueillies. La lecture des caracteres des familles faites la plante a la main et l'acte de ranger vos plantes en familles vous feront connaitre par theorie et par pratique ces groupes naturels. Je vous engage dans cette etude, surtout en le commencement, a ne donner que peu d'attention au systeme general qui lie les familles, mais beaucoup a la connaissance de la physionomie qui est propre a chacune d'elles. Sous ce point de vue vous pourrez trouver quelque interet a lire—1 deg. les Tableaux de la Nature de M. de Humboldt; 2 deg. mon essai sur les proprietes des plantes comparees avec leurs formes exterieures; 3 deg. les remarques sur la geographie botanique de la Nouvelle Hollande et de l'Afrique, inseres par M. Robt. Brown a la fin du voyage de Finders et de l'expedition au Congo.

Quant a l'etude de la Physiologie ou de la connaissance des vegetaux consideres comme etres vivans, je vous engage a lire les ouvrages dans l'ordre suivant: Philibert, Elemens de Bot. et de Phys., 3 vols.; la 2^de partie des principes elementaires de la Bot. de la Flore francaise. Vous trouverez la partie anatomique dans l'ouvrage de Mirbel; la partie chimique dans les recherches chimiques sur la Veget. de T. de Saussure; la partie statique dans la statique des vegetaux de Hales, &c. &c. Mais je vous engage surtout a voir par vous-meme les plantes a tous leurs ages, a suivre leur vegetation, a les decrire en detail, en un mot a vivre avec elles plus qu'avec les livres.

Je desire, madame, que ces conseils puissent vous engager a suivre l'etude des plantes sous cette direction qui je crois en releve beaucoup l'importance et l'interet. Je m'estimerai heureux si en vous l'indiquant je puis concourir a vos succes futures et a vous initier dans une etude que j'ai toujours regarde comme une de celles qui peut le plus contribuer au bonheur journalier.

Je vous prie d'agreer mes hommages empresses.

DE CANDOLLE.

* * * * *

We had made the ordinary short tour through Switzerland, and had arrived at Lausanne on our way home, when I was taken ill with a severe fever which detained us there for many weeks. I shall never forget the kindness I received from two Miss Barclays, Quaker ladies, and a Miss Fotheringham, who, on hearing of my illness, came and sat up alternate nights with me, as if I had been their sister.

The winter was now fast approaching, and Somerville thought that in my weak state a warm climate was necessary; so we arranged with our friends, the Miss Barclays, to pass the Simplon together. We parted company at Milan, but we renewed our friendship in London.

We went to Monza, and saw the iron crown; and there I found the Magnolia grandiflora, which hitherto I had only known as a greenhouse plant, rising almost into a forest tree.

At Venice we renewed our acquaintance with the Countess Albrizzi, who received every evening. It was at these receptions that we saw Lord Byron, but he would not make the acquaintance of any English people at that time. When he came into the room I did not perceive his lameness, and thought him strikingly like my brother Henry, who was remarkably handsome. I said to Somerville, "Is Lord Byron like anyone you know?" "Your brother Henry, decidedly." Lord Broughton, then Sir John Cam Hobhouse, was also present.

At Florence, I was presented to the Countess of Albany, widow of Prince Charles Edward Stuart the Pretender. She was then supposed to be married to Alfieri the poet, and had a kind of state reception every evening. I did not like her, and never went again. Her manner was proud and insolent. "So you don't speak Italian; you must have had a very bad education, for Miss Clephane Maclane there [who was close by] speaks both French and Italian perfectly." So saying, she turned away, and never addressed another word to me. That evening I recognised in Countess Moretti my old friend Agnes Bonar. Moretti was of good family; but, having been banished from home for political opinions, he taught the guitar in London for bread, and an attachment was formed between him and his pupil. After the murder of her parents, they were both persecuted with the most unrelenting cruelty by her brother. They escaped to Milan where they were married.

I was still a young woman; but I thought myself too old to learn to speak a foreign language, consequently I did not try. I spoke French badly; and now, after several years' residence in Italy, although I can carry on a conversation fluently in Italian, I do not speak it well.

[When my mother first went abroad, she had no fluency in talking French, although she was well acquainted with the literature. To show how, at every period of her life, she missed no opportunity of acquiring information or improvement, I may mention that many years after, when we were spending a summer in Siena, where the language is spoken with great purity and elegance, she engaged a lady to converse in Italian with her for a couple of hours daily. By this means she very soon became perfectly familiar with the language, and could keep up conversation in Italian without difficulty. She never cared to write in any language but English. Her style has been reckoned particularly clear and good, and she was complimented on it by various competent judges, although she herself was always diffident about her writings, saying she was only a self-taught, uneducated Scotchwoman, and feared to use Scotch idioms inadvertently. In speaking she had a very decided but pleasant Scotch accent, and when aroused and excited, would often unconsciously use not only native idioms, but quaint old Scotch words. Her voice was soft and low, and her manner earnest.]

* * * * *

On our way to Rome, where we spent the winter of 1817, it was startling to see the fine church of Santa Maria degli Angeli, below Assisi, cut in two; half of the church and half of the dome above it were still entire; the rest had been thrown down by the earthquake which had destroyed the neighbouring town of Foligno, and committed such ravages in this part of Umbria.

At that time I might have been pardoned if I had described St Peter's, the Vatican, and the innumerable treasures of art and antiquity at Rome; but now that they are so well known it would be ridiculous and superfluous. Here I gained a little more knowledge about pictures; but I preferred sculpture, partly from the noble specimens of Greek art I saw in Paris and Rome, and partly because I was such an enthusiast about the language and everything belonging to ancient Greece. During this journey I was highly gratified, for we made the acquaintance of Thorwaldsen and Canova. Canova was gentle and amiable, with a beautiful countenance, and was an artist of great reputation. Thorwaldsen had a noble and striking appearance, and had more power and originality than Canova. His bas-reliefs were greatly admired. I saw the one he made of Night in the house of an English lady, who had a talent for modelling, and was said to be attached to him. We were presented to Pope Pius the Seventh; a handsome, gentlemanly, and amiable old man. He received us in a summer-house in the garden of the Vatican. He was sitting on a sofa, and made me sit beside him. His manners were simple and very gracious; he spoke freely of what he had suffered in France. He said, "God forbid that he should bear ill-will to any one; but the journey and the cold were trying to an old man, and he was glad to return to a warm climate and to his own country." When we took leave, he said to me, "Though a Protestant, you will be none the worse for an old man's blessing." Pius the Seventh was loved and respected; the people knelt to him as he passed. Many years afterwards we were presented to Gregory the Sixteenth, a very common-looking man, forming a great contrast to Pius the Seventh.

I heard more good music during this first visit to Rome than I ever did after; for besides that usual in St. Peter's, there was an Academia every week, where Marcello's Psalms were sung in concert by a number of male voices, besides other concerts, private and public. We did not make the acquaintance of any of the Roman families at this time; but we saw Pauline Borghese, sister of the Emperor Napoleon, so celebrated for her beauty, walking on the Pincio every afternoon. Our great geologist, Sir Roderick Murchison, with his wife, were among the English residents at Rome. At that time he hardly knew one stone from another. He had been an officer in the Dragoons, an excellent horseman, and a keen fox-hunter. Lady Murchison,—an amiable and accomplished woman, with solid acquirements which few ladies at that time possessed—had taken to the study of geology; and soon after her husband began that career which has rendered him the first geologist of our country. It was then that a friendship began between them and us, which will only end with life. Mrs. Fairfax, of Gilling Castle, and her two handsome daughters were also at Rome. She was my namesake—Mary Fairfax—and my valued friend till her death. Now, alas! many of these friends are gone.

There were such troops of brigands in the Papal States, that it was considered unsafe to go outside the gates of Rome. They carried off people to the mountains, and kept them till ransomed; sometimes even mutilated them, as they do at the present day in the kingdom of Naples. Lucien Bonaparte made a narrow escape from being carried off from his villa, Villa Ruffinella, near Frascati. When it could be proved that brigands had committed murder, they were confined in prisons in the Maremma, at Campo Morto, where fever prevails, and where they were supposed to die of malaria. I saw Gasperone, the chief of a famous band, in a prison at Civita Vecchia; he was said to be a relative of Cardinal Antonelli, both coming from the brigand village of Sonnino, in the Volscian mountains. In going to Naples our friends advised us to take a guard of soldiers; but these were suspected of being as bad, and in league with the brigands. So we travelled post without them; and though I foolishly insisted on going round by the ruins of ancient Capua, which was considered very unsafe, we arrived at Naples without any encounter. Here we met with the son and daughter of Mr. Smith, of Norwich, a celebrated leader in the anti-slavery question. This was a bond of interest between his family and me; for when I was a girl I took the anti-slavery cause so warmly to heart that I would not take sugar in my tea, or indeed taste anything with sugar in it. I was not singular in this, for my cousins and many of my acquaintances came to the same resolution. How long we kept it I do not remember. Patty Smith and I became great friends, and I knew her sisters; but only remember her niece Florence Nightingale as a very little child. My friend Patty was liberal in her opinions, witty, original, an excellent horsewoman, and drew cleverly; but from bad health she was peculiar in all her habits. She was a good judge of art. Her father had a valuable collection of pictures of the ancient masters; and I learnt much from her with regard to paintings and style in drawing. We went to see everything in Naples and its environs together, and she accompanied Somerville and me in an expedition to Paestum, where we made sketches of the temples. At Naples we bought a beautiful cork model of the Temple of Neptune, which was placed on our mineral cabinet on our return to London. A lady who came to pay me a morning visit asked Somerville what it was; and when he told her, she said, "How dreadful it is to think that all the people who worshipped in that temple are in eternal misery, because they did not believe in our Saviour." Somerville asked, "How could they believe in Christ when He was not born till many centuries after?" I am sure she thought it was all the same.

* * * * *

There had been an eruption of Vesuvius just before our arrival at Naples, and it was still smoking very much; however, we ascended it, and walked round the crater, running and holding a handkerchief to our nose an we passed through the smoke, when the wind blew it to our side. The crater was just like an empty funnel, wide at the mouth, and narrowing to a throat. The lava was hard enough to bear us; but there were numerous fumeroles or red-hot chasms, in it, which we could look into. Somerville bought a number of crystals from the guides, and went repeatedly to Portici afterwards to complete our collection of volcanic minerals.

They were excavating busily at Pompeii; at that time, and in one of our many excursions there Somerville bought from one of the workmen a bronze statuette of Minerva, and a very fine rosso antico Terminus, which we contrived to smuggle into Naples; and it now forms part of a small but excellent collection of antiques which I still possess. The excavations at that period were conducted with little regularity or direction, and the guides were able to carry on a contraband trade as mentioned. Since the annexation of the Neapolitan provinces to the kingdom of Italy, the Cavaliere Fiorelli has organized the system of excavations in the most masterly manner, and has made many interesting discoveries. About one-third of the town has been excavated since it was discovered till the present day.

In passing through Bologna, we became acquainted with the celebrated Mezzofanti, afterwards Cardinal. He was a quiet-looking priest; we could not see anything in his countenance that indicated talent, nor was his conversation remarkable; yet he told us that he understood fifty-two languages. He left no memoir at his death; nor did he ever trace any connection between these languages; it was merely an astonishing power, which led to nothing, like that of a young American I lately heard of, who could play eleven games at chess at the same time, without looking at any chess-board.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 8: Joseph Barclay Pentland, Consul-General in Bolivia (1836-39), died in London, July, 1873. He first discovered that Illimani and Sorata (not Chimborazo) were the highest mountains in America. (See Humboldt's "Kosmos.")]



CHAPTER VIII.

EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS—DR. WOLLASTON—DR. YOUNG—THE HERSCHELS.

When we returned to Hanover Square, I devoted my morning hours, as usual, to domestic affairs; but now my children occupied a good deal of my time. Although still very young, I thought it advisable for them to acquire foreign languages; so I engaged a French nursery-maid, that they might never suffer what I had done from ignorance of modern languages. I besides gave them instruction in such things as I was capable of teaching, and which were suited to their age.

It was a great amusement to Somerville and myself to arrange the minerals we had collected during our journey. Our cabinet was now very rich. Some of our specimens we had bought; our friends had given us duplicates of those they possessed; and George Finlayson, who was with our troops in Ceylon, and who had devoted all his spare time to the study of the natural productions of the country, sent us a valuable collection of crystals of sapphire, ruby, oriental topaz, amethyst, &c., &c. Somerville used to analyze minerals with the blowpipe, which I never did. One evening, when he was so occupied, I was playing the piano, when suddenly I fainted; he was very much startled, as neither I nor any of our family had ever done such a thing. When I recovered, I said it was the smell of garlic that had made me ill. The truth was, the mineral contained arsenic, and I was poisoned for the time by the fumes.

At this time we formed an acquaintance with Dr. Wollaston, which soon became a lasting friendship. He was gentlemanly, a cheerful companion, and a philosopher; he was also of agreeable appearance, having a remarkably fine, intellectual head. He was essentially a chemist, and discovered palladium; but there were few branches of science with which he was not more or less acquainted. He made experiments to discover imponderable matter; I believe, with regard to the ethereal medium. Mr. Brand, of the Royal Institution, enraged him by sending so strong a current of electricity through a machine he had made to prove electro-magnetic rotation, as to destroy it. His characteristic was extreme accuracy, which particularly fitted him for giving that precision to the science of crystallography which it had not hitherto attained. By the invention of the goniometer which bears his name, he was enabled to measure the angle formed by the faces of a crystal by means of the reflected images of bright objects seen in them. We bought a goniometer, and Dr. Wollaston, who often dined with us, taught Somerville and me how to use it, by measuring the angles of many of our crystals during the evening. I learnt a great deal on a variety of subjects besides crystallography from Dr. Wollaston, who, at his death, left me a collection of models of the forms of all the natural crystals then known.

Though still occasionally occupied with the mineral productions of the earth, I became far more interested in the formation of the earth itself. Geologists had excited public attention, and had shocked the clergy and the more scrupulous of the laity by proving beyond a doubt that the formation of the globe extended through enormous periods of time. The contest was even more keen then than it is at the present time about the various races of prehistoric men. It lasted very long, too; for after I had published my work on Physical Geography, I was preached against by name in York Cathedral. Our friend, Dr. Buckland, committed himself by taking the clerical view in his "Bridgewater Treatise;" but facts are such stubborn things that he was obliged to join the geologists at last. He and Mrs. Buckland invited Somerville and me to spend a week with them in Christchurch College, Oxford. Mr. and Mrs. Murchison were their guests at the same time. Mr. Murchison (now Sir Roderick) was then rising rapidly to the pre-eminence he now holds as a geologist. We spent every day in seeing some of the numerous objects of interest in that celebrated university, venerable for its antiquity, historical records, and noble architecture.

Somerville and I used frequently to spend the evening with Captain and Mrs. Kater. Dr. Wollaston, Dr. Young, and others were generally of the party; sometimes we had music, for Captain and Mrs. Kater sang very prettily. All kinds of scientific subjects were discussed, experiments tried and astronomical observations made in a little garden in front of the house. One evening we had been trying the power of a telescope in separating double stars till about two in the morning; on our way home we saw a light in Dr. Young's window, and when Somerville rang the bell, down came the doctor himself in his dressing-gown, and said, "Come in; I have something curious to show you." Astronomical signs are frequently found on ancient Egyptian monuments, and were supposed to have been employed by the priests to record dates. Now Dr. Young had received a papyrus from Egypt, sent to him by Mr. Salt, who had found it in a mummy-case; and that very evening he had proved it to be a horoscope of the age of the Ptolemies, and had determined the date from the configuration of the heavens at the time of its construction. Dr. Young had already made himself famous by the interpretation of hieroglyphic characters on a stone which had been brought to the British Museum from Rosetta in Egypt. On that stone there is an inscription in Hieroglyphics, the sacred symbolic language of the early Egyptians; another in the Enchorial or spoken language of that most ancient people, and a mutilated inscription in Greek. By the aid of some fragments of papyri Dr. Young discovered that the Enchorial language is alphabetical, and that nine of its letters correspond with ours; moreover, he discovered such a relation between the Enchorial and the hieroglyphic inscription that he interpreted the latter and published his discoveries in the years 1815 and 1816.

M. Champollion, who had been on the same pursuit, examined the fine collection of papyri in the museum at Turin, and afterwards went to Egypt to pursue his studies on hieroglyphics, to our knowledge of which he contributed greatly. It is to be regretted that one who had brought that branch of science to such perfection should have been so ungenerous as to ignore the assistance he had received from the researches of Dr. Young. When the Royal Institution was first established, Dr. Young lectured on natural philosophy. He proved the undulatory theory of light by direct experiment, but as it depended upon the hypothesis of an ethereal medium, it was not received in England, the more so as it was contrary to Newton's theory. The French savants afterwards did Young ample justice. The existence of the ethereal medium is now all but proved, since part of the corona surrounding the moon during a total solar eclipse is polarized—a phenomenon depending on matter. Young's Lectures, which had been published, were a mine of riches to me. He was of a Quaker family; but although he left the Society of Friends at an early age, he retained their formal precision of manner to the last. He was of a kindly disposition, and his wife and her sisters, with whom I was intimate, were much attached to him. Dr. Young was an elegant and critical scholar at a very early age; he was an astronomer, a mathematician, and there were few branches of science in which he was not versed. When young, his Quaker habits did not prevent him from taking lessons in music and dancing. I have heard him accompany his sister-in-law with the flute, while she played the piano. When not more than sixteen years of age he was so remarkable for steadiness and acquirements that he was engaged more as a companion than tutor to young Hudson Gurney, who was nearly of his own age. One spring morning Young came to breakfast in a bright green coat, and said in explanation of his somewhat eccentric costume for one who had been a Quaker, that it was suitable to the season. One day, on returning from their ride Gurney, leaped his horse over the stable-yard gate. Young, trying to do the same, was thrown; he got up, mounted, and made a second attempt with no better success; the third time he kept his seat, then quietly dismounting, he said, "What one man can do, another may."

* * * * *

One bright morning Dr. Wollaston came to pay us a visit in Hanover Square, saying, "I have discovered seven dark lines crossing the solar spectrum, which I wish to show you;" then, closing the window-shutters so as to leave only a narrow line of light, he put a small glass prism into my hand, telling me how to hold it. I saw them distinctly. I was among the first, if not the very first, to whom he showed these lines, which were the origin of the most wonderful series of cosmical discoveries, and have proved that many of the substances of our globe are also constituents of the sun, the stars, and even of the nebulae. Dr. Wollaston gave me the little prism, which is doubly valuable, being of glass manufactured at Munich by Fraunhofer, whose table of dark lines has now become the standard of comparison in that marvellous science, the work of many illustrious men, brought to perfection by Bunsen and Kirchhoff.

* * * * *

Sir William Herschel had discovered that what appeared to be single stars were frequently two stars in such close approximation that it required a very high telescopic power to see them separately, and that in many of these one star was revolving in an orbit round the other. Sir James South established an observatory at Campden Hill, near Kensington, where he and Sir John Herschel united in observing the double stars and binary systems with the view of affording further data for improving our knowledge of their movements. In each two observations are requisite, namely, the distance between the two stars, and the angle of position, that is, the angle which the meridian, or a parallel to the equator makes with the lines joining the two stars. These observations were made by adjusting a micrometer to a very powerful telescope, and were data sufficient for the determination of the orbit of the revolving star, should it be a binary system. I have given an account of this in the "Connexion of the Physical Sciences," so I shall only mention here that in one or two of the binary systems the revolving star has been seen to make more than one revolution, and that the periodical times and the elliptical elements of a great many other orbits have been calculated, though they are more than 200,000 times farther from the sun than we are.

After Sir John Herschel was married, we paid him a visit at Slough; fortunately, the sky was clear, and Sir John had the kindness to show me many nebulae and clusters of stars which I had never seen to such advantage as in his 20 ft. telescope. I shall never forget the glorious appearance of Jupiter as he entered the field of that instrument.

For years the British nation was kept in a state of excitement by the Arctic voyages of our undaunted seamen in quest of a north-west passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. The idea was not new, for a direct way to our Eastern possessions had been long desired. On this occasion the impulse was given by William Scoresby, captain of a whaler, who had sailed on the east coast of Greenland as high as the 80th parallel of latitude, and for two successive seasons had found that the sea between Greenland and Spitzbergen was free of ice for 18,000 square miles—a circumstance which had not occurred before in the memory of man. Scoresby was of rare genius, well versed in science, and of strict probity. When he published this discovery, the Admiralty, in the year 1818, sent off two expeditions, one under the command of Captains Franklin and Buchan to the east of Greenland, and another under Captains Ross and Parry to Baffin's Bay. Such was the beginning of a series of noble adventures, now the province of history.

I had an early passion for everything relating to the sea, and when my father was at home I never tired asking him questions about his voyages and the dangers to which he had been exposed. Now, when I knew something of nautical science, I entered with enthusiasm into the spirit of these Arctic voyages; nor was my husband less interested. We read Scoresby's whaling voyages with great delight, and we made the acquaintance of all the officers who had been on these northern expeditions.

Sir Edward Parry, who had brought us minerals and seeds of plants from Melville Island, invited us to see the ships prepared for his third voyage, and three years' residence in the Arctic seas. It is impossible to describe how perfectly everything was arranged: experience had taught them what was necessary for such an expedition. On this occasion I put in practice my lessons in cookery by making a large quantity of orange marmalade for the voyage. When, after three years, the ships returned, we were informed that the name of Somerville had been given to an island so far to the north that it was all but perpetually covered with ice and snow. Notwithstanding the sameness which naturally prevails in the narratives of these voyages, they are invested with a romantic interest by the daring bravery displayed, and by the appalling difficulties overcome. The noble endeavour of Lady Franklin to save her gallant husband, and the solitary voyage of Sir Leopold McClintock in a small yacht in search of his lost friend, form the touching and sad termination to a very glorious period of maritime adventure. More than fifty years after these events I renewed my acquaintance with Lady Franklin. She and her niece came to see me at Spezia on their way to Dalmatia. She had circumnavigated the globe with her husband when he was governor in Australia. After his loss she and her niece had gone round the world a second time, and she assured me that although they went to Japan and China (less known at that time than they are now), they never experienced any difficulty. Seeing ladies travelling alone, people were always willing to help them. The French sent a Polar expedition under Captain Gaimard in the years 1838 and 1839; and the United States of North America took an active part in Arctic exploration. Whether Dr. Kane's discovery of an open polar ocean will ever be verified is problematical; at all events, the deplorable fate of Sir John Franklin has put a stop to the chance of it for the present; yet it is a great geographical question which we should all like to see decided.

Captain Sabine, of the Artillery (now General Sir Edward Sabine, President of the Royal Society), was appointed to accompany the first expedition under Captains Ross and Parry on account of his high scientific acquirements. The observations made during the series of Arctic voyages on the magnetism of the earth, combined with an enormous mass of observations made by numerous observers in all parts of the globe by sea and by land, have enabled Sir Edward Sabine, after a labour of nearly fifty years, to complete his marvellous system of terrestrial magnetism in both hemispheres. During that long period a friendship has lasted between Sir Edward and me. He has uniformly sent me copies of all his works; to them I chiefly owe what I know on the subject, and quite recently I have received his latest and most important publication. Sir Edward married a lady of talent and scientific acquirements. She translated "Cosmos" from the German, and assisted and calculated for her husband in his laborious work.

I do not remember the exact period, but I think it was subsequent to the Arctic voyages, that the theory was discovered of those tropical hurricanes which cause such devastation by sea and land. Observations are now made on barometric pressure, and warnings are sent to our principal seaports by telegraph, as well as along both sides of the Channel; but notwithstanding numerous disastrous shipwrecks occur every winter on our dangerous coasts. They were far more numerous in my younger days. Life-boats were not then invented; now they are stationed on almost every coast of Great Britain, and on many continental shores. The readiness with which they are manned, and the formidable dangers encountered to save life, show the gallant, noble character of the sailor.