[My mother made some curious experiments upon the effect of the solar spectrum on juices of plants and other substances, of which she sent an account to Sir John Herschel, who answered telling her that he had communicated her account of her experiments to the Royal Society.]

* * * * *

SIR JOHN HERSCHEL TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

COLLINGWOOD, November 21st, 1845.

MY DEAR MRS. SOMERVILLE,

I cannot express to you the pleasure I experienced from the receipt of your letter and the perusal of the elegant experiments it relates, which appear to me of the highest interest and show (what I always suspected), that there is a world of wonders awaiting disclosure in the solar spectrum, and that influences widely differing from either light, heat or colour are transmitted to us from our central luminary, which are mainly instrumental in evolving and maturing the splendid hues of the vegetable creation and elaborating the juices to which they owe their beauty and their vitality. I think it certain that heat goes for something in evaporating your liquids and thereby causing some of your phenomena; but there is a difference of quality as well as of quantity of heat brought into view which renders it susceptible of analysis by the coloured juices so that in certain parts of the spectrum it is retained and fixed, in others reflected according as the nature of the tint favours the one or the other. Pray go on with these delightful experiments. I wish you could save yourself the fatigue of watching and directing your sunbeam by a clock work. If I were at your elbow I could rig you out a heliotrope quite sufficient with the aid of any common wooden clock.... Now I am going to take a liberty (but not till after duly consulting Mr. Greig with whose approbation I act, and you are not to gainsay our proceedings) and that is to communicate your results in the form of "an extract of a letter" to myself—to the Royal Society. You may be very sure that I would not do this if I thought that the experiments were not intrinsically quite deserving to be recorded in the pages of the Phil. Trans. and if I were not sure that they will lead to a vast field of curious and beautiful research; and as you have already once contributed to the Society, (on a subject connected with the spectrum and the sunbeam) this will, I trust, not appear in your eyes in a formidable or a repulsive light, and it will be a great matter of congratulation to us all to know that these subjects continue to engage your attention, and that you can turn your residence in that sunny clime to such admirable account. So do not call upon me to retract (for before you get this the papers will be in the secretary's hands).

I am here nearly as much out of the full stream of scientific matters as you at Rome. We had a full and very satisfactory meeting at Cambridge of the British Association, with a full attendance of continental magnetists and meteorologists, and within these few days I have learned that our Government meant to grant all our requests and continue the magnetic and meteorological observations. Humboldt has sent me his Cosmos (Vol. I.), which is good, all but the first 60 pages, which are occupied in telling his readers what his book is not to be. Dr. Whewell has just published another book on the Principles of Morals, and also another on education, in which he cries up the geometrical processes in preference to analysis....

Yours very faithfully, J. HERSCHEL.

* * * * *

The Prince and Princesse de Broglie came to Rome in 1845, and Signore Pellegrino Rossi, at this time French Minister at the Vatican, gave them a supper party, to which we were invited. We had met with him long before at Geneva, where he had taken refuge after the insurrection of 1821. He was greatly esteemed there and admired for his eloquence in the lectures he gave in the University. It was a curious circumstance, that he, who was a Roman subject, and was exiled, and, if I am not mistaken, condemned to death, should return to Rome as French Minister. He had a remarkably fine countenance, resembling some ancient Roman bust. M. Thiers had brought in a law in the French Chambers to check the audacity of the Jesuits, and Rossi was sent to negotiate with the Pope. We had seen much of him at Rome, and were horrified, in 1848, to hear that he had been assassinated on the steps of the Cancelleria, at Rome, where the Legislative Assembly met, and whither he was proceeding to attend its first meeting. No one offered to assist him, nor to arrest the murderers except Dr. Pantaleone, a much esteemed Roman physician, and member of the Chamber, who did what he could to save him, but in vain; he was a great loss to the Liberal cause.

Towards the end of summer we spent a month most agreeably at Subiaco, receiving much civility from the Benedictine monks of the Sacro Speco, and visiting all the neighbouring towns, each one perched on some hill-top, and one more romantically picturesque than the other. It was in this part of the country that Claude Lorraine and Poussin studied and painted. I never saw more beautiful country, or one which afforded so many exquisite subjects for a landscape painter. We went all over the country on mules—to some of the towns, such as Cervara, up steep flights of steps cut in the rock. The people, too, were extremely picturesque, and the women still wore their costumes, which probably now they have laid aside for tweeds and Manchester cottons.

I often during my winters in Rome went to paint from nature in the Campagna, either with Somerville or with Lady Susan Percy, who drew very prettily. Once we set out a little later than usual, when, driving through the Piazza of the Bocca della Verita, we both called out, "Did you see that? How horrible! "It was the guillotine; an execution had just taken place, and had we been a quarter of an hour earlier we should have passed at the fatal moment. Under Gregory XVI. everything was conducted in the most profound secrecy; arrests were made almost at our very door, of which we knew nothing; Mazzini was busily at work on one side, the Jesuitical party actively intriguing, according to their wont, on the other; and in the mean time society went on gaily at the surface, ignorant of and indifferent to the course of events. We were preparing to leave Rome when Gregory died. We put off our journey to see his funeral, and the Conclave, which terminated, in the course of scarcely two days, in the election of Pius IX. We also saw the new Pope's coronation, and witnessed the beginning of that popularity which lasted so short a time. Much was expected from him, and in the beginning of his reign the moderate liberals fondly hoped that Italy would unite in one great federation, with Pius IX. at the head of it; entirely forgetting how incompatible a theocracy or government by priests ever must be with all progress and with liberal institutions. Their hopes were soon blighted, and after all the well-known events of 1848 and 1849, a reaction set in all over Italy, except in gallant little Piedmont, where the constitution was maintained, thanks to Victor Emmanuel, and especially to that great genius, Camillo Cavour, and in spite of the disastrous reverses at Novara. Once more in 1859 Piedmont went to war with Austria, this time with success, and with the not disinterested help of France. One province after another joined her, and Italy, freed from all the little petty princes, and last, not least, from the Bourbons, has become that one great kingdom which was the dream of some of her greatest men in times of old.

We went to Bologna for a short time, and there the enthusiasm for the new Pope was absolutely intolerable. "Viva Pio Nono!" was shouted night and day. There was no repose; bands of music went about the streets, playing airs composed for the occasion, and in the theatres it was even worse, for the acting was interrupted, and the orchestra called upon to play the national tunes in vogue, and repeat them again and again, amid the deafening shouts and applause of the excited audience. We found the Bolognese very sociable, and it was by far the most musical society I ever was in. Rossini was living in Bologna, and received in the evening, and there was always music, amateur and professional, at his house. Frequently there was part-singing or choruses, and after the music was over the evening ended with a dance. We frequently saw Rossini some years later, when we resided at Florence. He was clever and amusing in conversation, but satirical. He was very bitter against the modern style of opera-singing, and considered the singers of the present day, with some exceptions, as wanting in study and finish. He objected to much of the modern music, as dwelling too constantly on the highest notes of the voice, whereby it is very soon deteriorated, and the singer forced to scream; besides which, he considered the orchestral accompaniments too loud. I, who recollected Pasta, Malibran, Grisi, Rubini, and others of that epoch, could not help agreeing with him when I compared them to the singers I heard at the Pergola and elsewhere. The theatre, too, was good at Bologna, and we frequently went to it.

One evening we were sitting on the balcony of the hotel, when we saw a man stab another in the back of the neck, and then run away. The victim staggered along for a minute, and then fell down in a pool of blood. He had been a spy of the police under Gregory XVI., and one of the principal agents of his cruel government. He was so obnoxious to the people that his assassin has never been discovered.

From Bologna we went for a few weeks to Recoaro, where I drank the waters, after which we travelled to England by the St. Gothard pass.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 13: The vessel on board which this bust was shipped for England ran on a shoal and sank, but as the accident happened in shallow water, the bust was recovered, none the worse for its immersion in salt water.]



CHAPTER XVI.

PUBLISHES "PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY"—LETTER FROM HUMBOLDT—CHRISTMAS AT COLLINGWOOD—LETTER FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE—FARADAY—LETTER FROM FARADAY—KEITH JOHNSTONE'S MAPS—WINTER AT MUNICH—SALZBURG—LAKE OF GARDA—MINISCALCHI—POEM BY CATERINA BRENZONI—LETTER FROM BRENZONI—LETTER FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE—ELOGE BY MINISCALCHI—WINTER AT TURIN—BARON PLANA—CAMILLO CAVOUR—COLLINE NEAR TURIN—GENOA—TERESA DOVIA—FLORENCE—MISS F.P. COBBE—VIVISECTION—EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD—CHOLERA—MISERICORDIA—PIO NONO IN TUSCANY—COMET—TUSCAN REVOLUTION—WAR IN LOMBARDY—ENTRY OF VICTOR EMMANUEL INTO FLORENCE—LETTERS FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE—MY FATHER'S DEATH—LETTER FROM MISS COBBE.

We spent the autumn in visiting my relations on the banks of the Tweed. I was much out of health at the time. As winter came on I got better, and was preparing to print my "Physical Geography" when "Cosmos" appeared. I at once determined to put my manuscript in the fire when Somerville said, "Do not be rash—consult some of our friends—Herschel for instance." So I sent the MS. to Sir John Herschel, who advised me by all means to publish it. It was very favourably reviewed by Sir Henry Holland in the "Quarterly," which tended much to its success. I afterwards sent a copy of a later edition to Baron Humboldt, who wrote me a very kind letter in return.

* * * * *

BARON HUMBOLDT TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

A SANS SOUCI, ce 12 Juillet, 1849.

MADAME,

C'est un devoir bien doux a remplir, Madame, que de vous offrir l'hommage renouvelle de mon devouement et de ma respectueuse admiration. Ces sentimens datent de bien loin chez l'homme antidiluvien auquel vous avez daigne adresser des lignes si aimables et la nouvelle edition de ce bel ouvrage qui m'a charme et instruit des qu'il avait paru pour la premiere fois. A cette grande superiorite que vous possedez et qui a si noblement illustre votre nom, dans les hautes regions de l'analyse mathematique, vous joignez, Madame, une variete de connaissances dans toutes les parties de la physique et de l'histoire naturelle descriptive. Apres votre "Mechanism of the Heavens," le philosophique ouvrage "Connexion of the Physical Sciences" avait ete l'objet de ma constante admiration. Je l'ai lu en entier et puis relu dans la septieme edition qui a paru en 1846 dans les tems ou nous etions plus calme, ou l'orage politique ne grondait que de loin. L'auteur de l'imprudent "Cosmos" devoit saluer plus que tout autre la "Geographie Physique" de Mary Somerville. J'ai su me la procurer des les premieres semaines par les soins de notre ami commun le Chev. Bunsen. Je ne connais dans aucune langue un ouvrage de Geographie physique que l'on pourrait comparer au votre. Je l'ai de nouveau etudie dans la derniere edition que je dois a votre gracieuse bienveillance. Le sentiment de precision que vos habitudes de "Geometre" vous ont si profondement imprime, penetre tous vos travaux, Madame. Aucun fait, aucune des grandes vues de la nature vous echappent. Vous avez profite et des livres et des conversations des voyageurs dans cette malheureuse Italie ou passe la grande route de l'Orient et de l'Inde. J'ai ete surpris de la justice de vos apercus sur la Geographie des plantes et des animaux. Vous dominez dans ces regions comme en astronomie, en meteorologie, en magnetisme. Que n'ajoutez-vous pas la sphere celeste, l'uranologie, votre patrimoine, a la sphere terrestre? C'est vous seule qui pourriez donner a votre belle literature un ouvrage cosmologique original, un ouvrage ecrit avec cette lucidite et ce gout que distingue tout ce qui est emane de votre plume. On a, je le sais, beaucoup de bienveillance pour mon Cosmos dans votre patrie; mais il en est des formes de composition litteraires, comme de la variete des races et de la difference primitive des langues. Un ouvrage traduit manque de vie; ce que plait sur les bords du Rhin doit paraitre bizarre sur les bords de la Tamise et de la Seine. Mon ouvrage est une production essentiellement allemande, et ce caractere meme, j'en suis sur, loin de m'en plaindre lui donne le gout du terroir. Je jouis d'une bonne fortune a laquelle (a cause de mon long sejour en France, de mes predilections personnelles, de mes heresies politiques) le Leopard ne m'avait pas trop accoutume. Je demande a l'illustre auteur du volume sur la Mecanique Celeste d'avoir le courage d'agrandir sa Geographie Physique. Je suis sur que le grand homme que nous aimons le plus, vous et moi, Sir John Herschel, serait de mon opinion. Le MONDE, je me sers du titre que Descartes voulait donner a un livre dont nous n'avons que de pauvres fragmens; le Monde doit etre ecrit pour les Anglais par un auteur de race pure. Il n'y a pas de seve, pas de vitalite dans les traductions les mieux faites. Ma sante s'est conserve miraculeusement a l'age de quatre-vingts ans, de mon ardeur pour le travail nocturne au milieu des agitations d'une position que je n'ai pas besoin de vous depeindre puisque l'excellente Mademoiselle de —— vous l'a fait connaitre. J'ai bouleverse, change mes deux volumes des "Ansichten." Il n'en est reste que 1/4. C'est comme un nouvel ouvrage que j'aurai bientot le bonheur de vous adresser si M. Cotta pense pouvoir hasarder une publication dans ces tems ou la force physique croit guerir un mal moral et vacciner le contentement a l'Allemagne unitaire!! Le troisieme volume de mon Cosmos avance, mais la serenite manque aux ames moins credules.

Agreez, je vous supplie, l'hommage de mon affectueuse et respectueuse reconnaissance,

ALEXANDRE DE HUMBOLDT.

* * * * *

Somerville and I spent the Christmas at Collingwood with our friends the Herschels. The party consisted of Mr. Airy, Astronomer-Royal, and Mr. Adams, who had taken high honours at Cambridge. This young man and M. Leverrier, the celebrated French astronomer, had separately calculated the orbit of Neptune and announced it so nearly at the same time, that each country claims the honour of the discovery. Mr. Adams told Somerville that the following sentence in the sixth edition of the "Connexion of the Physical Sciences," published in the year 1842, put it into his head to calculate the orbit of Neptune. "If after the lapse of years the tables formed from a combination of numerous observations should be still inadequate to represent the motions of Uranus, the discrepancies may reveal the existence, nay, even the mass and orbit of a body placed for ever beyond the sphere of vision." That prediction was fulfilled in 1846, by the discovery of Neptune revolving at the distance of 3,000,000,000 of miles from the sun. The mass of Neptune, the size and position of his orbit in space, and his periodic time, were determined from his disturbing action on Uranus before the planet itself had been seen.

We left Collingwood as ever with regret.

[The following is an extract from a letter written by my mother during this visit:—]

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

COLLINGWOOD, 1st January, 1848.

... You can more easily conceive than I can describe the great kindness and affection which we have received from both Sir John and Lady Herschel; I feel a pride and pleasure beyond what I can express in having such friends. Collingwood is a house by itself in the world, there certainly is nothing like it for all that is great and good. The charm of the conversation is only equalled by its variety—every subject Sir John touches turns to doubly refined gold; profound, brilliant, amiable, and highly poetical, I could never end admiring and praising him. Then the children are so nice and he so kind and amusing to them, making them quite his friends and companions.

Yours, my dearest Woronzow, Most affectionately, M. SOMERVILLE.

* * * * *

We had formed such a friendship with Mr. Faraday that while we lived abroad he sent me a copy of everything he published, and on returning to England we renewed our friendship with that illustrious philosopher, and attended his lectures at the Royal Institution. He had already magnetized a ray of polarised light, but was still lecturing on the magnetic and diamagnetic properties of matter. At the last lecture we attended he showed the diamagnetism of flame, which had been proved by a foreign philosopher. Mr. Faraday never would accept of any honour; he lived in a circle of friends to whom he was deeply attached. A touching and beautiful memoir was published of him by his friend and successor, Professor Tyndall, an experimental philosopher of the very highest genius.

[The following letter was the last my mother received from Faraday:—]

FROM PROFESSOR FARADAY TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

ROYAL INSTITUTION, 17th January, 1859.

MY DEAR MRS. SOMERVILLE,

So you have remembered me again, and I have the delight of receiving from you a new copy of that work which has so often instructed me; and I may well say, cheered me in my simple homely course through life in this house. It was most kind to think of me; but ah! how sweet it is to believe that I have your approval in matters where kindness would be nothing, where judgment alone must rule. I almost doubt myself when I think I have your approbation, to some degree at least, in what I may have thought or said about gravitation, the forces of nature, their conservation, &c. As it is, I cannot go back from these thoughts; on the contrary, I feel encouraged to go on by way of experiment, but am not so able as I was formerly; for when I try to hold the necessary group of thoughts in mind at one time, with the judgment suspended on almost all of them, then my head becomes giddy, and I am obliged to lay all aside for a while. I am trying for time in magnetic action, and do not despair of reaching it, even though it may be only that of light. Nous verrons.

I have been putting into one volume various papers of mine on experimental branches in chemistry and physics. The index and title-page has gone to the printer, and I expect soon to receive copies from him. I shall ask Mr. Murray to help me in sending one to you which I hope you will honour by acceptance. There is nothing new in it, except a few additional pages about "regelation," and also "gravity." It is useful to get one's scattered papers together with an index, and society seems to like the collection sufficiently to pay the expenses.... Pray remember me most kindly to all with whom I may take that privilege, and believe me to be most truly,

Your admirer and faithful servant, M. FARADAY.

* * * * *

[My mother wrote of this letter:—]

FLORENCE, 8th February, 1859.

... I have had the most charming and gratifying letter from Faraday; I cannot tell you how I value such a mark of approbation and friendship from the greatest experimental philosopher and discoverer next to Newton.

* * * * *

We returned to the continent in autumn, so I could not superintend the publication of my "Physical Geography," but Mr. Pentland kindly undertook to carry it through the press. Though I never was personally acquainted with Mr. Keith Johnston, of Edinburgh, that eminent geographer gave me copies of both the first and second editions of his splendid "Atlas of Physical Geography," which were of the greatest use to me. Besides, he published some time afterwards a small "School Atlas of Ancient, Modern, and Physical Geography," intended to accompany my work; obligations which I gratefully acknowledge. No one has attempted to copy my "Connexion of the Physical Sciences," the subjects are too difficult; but soon after the publication of the "Physical Geography" a number of cheap books appeared, just keeping within the letter of the law, on which account it has only gone through five editions. However a sixth is now required.

* * * * *

The moment was unfavourable for going into Italy, as war was raging between Charles Albert and the Austrians, so we resolved to remain at Munich, and wait the course of events. We got a very pretty little apartment, well furnished with stoves, and opposite the house of the Marchese Fabio Pallavicini, formerly Sardinian minister at Munich. We spent most of our evenings very pleasantly at their house. We attended the concerts at the Odeon of classical music: the execution was perfect, but the music was so refined and profound that it passed my comprehension, and I thought it tedious. The hours at Munich were so early that the opera ended almost at the time it began in London.

In the spring we went to Salzburg, where we remained all summer. We had an apartment in a dilapidated old chateau, about an hour's walk from the town, called Leopold's Krone. The picturesque situation of the town reminded me of the Castle and Old Town of Edinburgh. The view from our windows was alpine, and the trees bordering the roads were such as I have rarely seen out of England. We made many excursions to Berchtesgaden, where King Louis and his court were then living, and went to the upper end of the Koenigsee. I have repeatedly been at sea in very stormy weather without the smallest idea of fear; but the black, deep water of this lake, under the shadow of the precipitous mountains, made a disagreeable impression on me. I thought if I were to be drowned I should prefer the blue sea to that cold, black pool. The flora was lovely, and on returning from our expeditions in the evening, the damp, mossy banks were luminous with glowworms: I never saw so many, either before or since. We never fail to make acquaintances wherever we go, and our friends at Munich had given us letters to various people who were passing the summer there, many of whom had evening receptions once a week. At the Countess Irene Arco's beautiful Gothic chateau of Anif, which rises out of a small pellucid lake, and is reached by a bridge, we spent many pleasant evenings, as well as at Countess Bellegarde's, and at Aigen, which belonged to the Cardinal Schwartzenberg. We never saw him, but went to visit his niece, with whom we were intimate.

The war being over, we went by Innsbruck and the Brenner to Cola, on the Lago di Garda, within five miles of Peschiera, where we spent a month with Count and Countess Erizzo Miniscalchi, who had been our intimate friends for many years. The devastation of the country was frightful. Peschiera and its fortifications were in ruins; the villages around had been burnt down, and the wretched inhabitants were beginning to repair their roofless houses. Our friends themselves had but recently returned to Cola, which, from its commanding situation, was always the headquarters of whatever army was in possession of the country around. On this account, the family had to fly more than once at the approach of the enemy. In 1848 the Countess had fled to Milan, and was confined at the very time the Austrians under Radetsky were besieging the town, which was defended by Charles Albert. Fearing what might occur when the city was surrendered, the lady, together with her new-born infant and the rest of her family, escaped the next day with considerable difficulty, and travelled to Genoa.

Although not acquainted with quite so many languages as Mezzofanti, Count Miniscalchi is a remarkable linguist, especially with regard to Arabic and other oriental tongues. He has availed himself of his talent, and published several works, the most interesting of which is a translation of the Gospel of St. John from Syro-Chaldaic (the language probably spoken by our Saviour) into Latin. The manuscript, from which this translation is made, is preserved in the Vatican.

* * * * *

[While we were at Cola my mother received a visit from a very distinguished and gifted lady, the Countess Bon-Brenzoni. As an instance of the feelings entertained by an Italian woman towards my mother, I insert a letter written by the Countess some time afterwards, and also an extract from her poems:—]

FROM THE COUNTESS BON-BRENZONI TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

VERONA, 28 Maggio, 1853.

ILLUSTRE SIGNORA,

Fui molto contenta udendo che finalmente le sia giunto l'involto contenente le copie stampate del Carme, ch' ebbi l'onore di poterle offerire, mentre io era in gran pensiero non forse fossero insorte difficolta, o ritardi, in causa della posta. Ma, ben piu che per questo la sua graziosissima lettera mi fu di vera consolazione, per l'accoglienza tutta benevola e generosa ch' Ella fece a' miei versi. La ringrazio delle parole piene di bonta ch' Ella mi scrive, e di aversi preso la gentil cura di farlo in italiano; cosi potess' io ricambiarla scrivendo a Lei in inglese! Pur mi conforta la certezza che il linguaggio delle anime sia uno solo; mentre io non so s' io debba chiamar presunzione, o ispirazione questa, che mi fa credere, che esista fra la sua e la mia una qualche intelligenza, e quantunque i suoi meriti e la sua bonta me ne spieghino in gran parte il mistero, pure trovo essere cosa non comune questo pensiero, che al mio cuore parla di Lei incessantemente, da quel giorno ch' io l'ho veduta per la prima e l'unica volta!

Ah se e vero che fra i sentimenti di compiacenza ch' Ella provo per gli elogi ottenuti de' suoi lavori, abbia saputo trovar luogo fra i piu cari quello che le desto nell' animo l'espressione viva e sincera della mia ammirazione e del mio umile affetto, io raggiunsi un punto a cui certo non avea osato aspirare!

Il trovarmi con Lei a Cola, od altrove che fosse, e uno de' miei piu cari desideri, e son lieta delle sue parole che me ne danno qualche speranza.

Voglia presentare i miei distinti doveri all' eccelente suo Sig^re marito ed alle amabili figlie; e mentre io le prego da Dio le piu desiderabili benedizioni, Ella si ricordi di me siccome di una persona, che sebbene lontana fisicamente, le e sempre vicina coll' animo, nei sentimenti della piu affetuosa venerazione.

Incoraggiata dalla sua bonta, mi onoro segnarmi amica affezionatissima CATERINA BON-BRENZONI.

The "Carme" spoken of in the above letter form a long poem on modern astronomy, entitled "I Cieli," (published by Vallardi. Milan: 1853). The opening lines contain the following address to Mrs. Somerville,—doubtless a genuine description of the author's feelings on first meeting the simple-mannered lady whose intellectual greatness she had long learned to appreciate:—

Donna, quel giorno ch' io ti vidi in prima, Dimmi, hai Tu scorto sul mio volto i segni Dell' anima commossa?—Hai Tu veduto Come trepida innanzi io ti venia, E come reverenza e maraviglia Tenean sospesa sull' indocil labbro La parola mal certa?—Ah! dimmi, hai scorto Come fur vinte dall' affetto allora Che t'udii favellar soave e piana, Coll' angelica voce e l'umiltade, Che a' suoi piu cari sapienza insegna?— Questa, io dicea tra me, questa e Colei, Di che le mille volte udito ho il nome Venerato suonar tra i piu famosi? Questa e Colei che negli eterei spazj Segue il cammin degli astri, e ne misura Peso, moto, distanza, orbita e luce?

* * * * *

Another record of our visit to Cola is in a letter of my mother to my brother.

MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

TURIN, 4th Dec., 1849.

MY DEAREST WORONZOW,

We arrived here all well the day before yesterday, after a fair but bitterly cold journey, bright sunshine and keen frost, and to-day we have a fall of snow.... It was a great disappointment not finding letters here, and I fear many have been lost on both sides, though we took care not to touch on political events, as all letters are opened by the Austrian police in Lombardy. We spent five weeks with our friends the Miniscalchis very agreeably, and received every mark of kindness and hospitality. They only live at Verona during the winter, and we found them in their country house at Cola situated on a height overlooking the Lago di Garda, with the snowy Alps on the opposite side of the lake. The view from their grounds is so fine that I was tempted to paint once more. They took us to see all the places in the neighbourhood; often a sad sight, from having been the seat of war and siege. The villages are burnt and the churches in ruin. But the people are repairing the mischief as fast as possible, and the fields are already well cultivated. The Count is a man of great learning and is occupied in the comparison of languages, especially the Eastern; he knows twenty-four and speaks Arabic as fluently as Italian. He is in the habit of speaking both Arabic and Chaldee every day, as there is a most learned Chaldean priest living with them, whose conversation gave me great pleasure and much information. The Count has moreover a black servant who speaks these languages, having been bought by the Count during his long residence in the East, and is now treated like one of the family. I obtained much information which will be useful in my next edition of the Physical Geography....

Your affectionate mother, MARY SOMERVILLE.

[After my mother's death, our old friend Count Miniscalchi made a beautiful and touching "eloge" on her at a meeting of the Royal Italian Geographical Society, to a numerous audience assembled in the great hall of the Collegio Romano at Rome.

My mother was an honorary member of this Society, besides which the first gold medal granted by them was voted by acclamation to her. Her Recollections continue as follows:—]

* * * * *

From Cola we went to Turin, where I became personally acquainted with Baron Plana, Director of the Observatory. He had married a niece of the illustrious mathematician La Grange, who proved the stability of the solar system. Plana, himself, was a very great analyst; his volume on the Lunar Perturbations is a work of enormous labour. He gave me a copy of it and of all his works; for I continued to have friendly intercourse with him as long as he lived. As soon as he heard of our arrival, he came to take us out to drive. I never shall forget the beauty of the Alps, and the broad valley of the Po and Dora, deeply covered with snow, and sparkling in bright sunshine. Another day the Baron took us to a church, from the cupola of which a very long pendulum was swinging, that we might see the rotation of the earth visibly proved by its action on the pendulum, according to M. Foucault's experiment. He devoted his time to get us established, and we found a handsome apartment in Casa Cavour, and became acquainted with both the brothers to whom it belonged. Count Camillo Cavour, then Minister of the Interior, was the only great statesman Italy ever produced in modern times. His premature death is deplorably felt at the present day. He was a real genius, and the most masterly act of his administration was that of sending an army to act in concert with the French and English in the Crimean war. By it he at once gave Italy the rank of an independent European power, which was the first step towards Italian unity. He was delightful and cheerful in society, and extremely beloved by his family and friends.

* * * * *

In spring we hired a villa on the Colline above Turin. The house was in a garden, with a terrace, whence the ground sank rapidly to the plain; low hills, clothed with chestnut forests, abounding in lilies of the valley, surrounded us behind. The summer had been stormy, and one evening we walked on the terrace to look at the lightning, which was very fine, illuminating the chain of Alps. By-and-by it ceased, and the darkness was intense; but we continued to walk, when, to our surprise, a pale bluish light rose in the Val di Susa, which gradually spread along the summit of the Alps, and the tops of the hills behind our house; then a column of the same pale blue light, actually within our reach, came curling up from the slope close to the terrace, exactly as if wet weeds had been burning. In about ten minutes the whole vanished; but in less than a quarter of an hour the phenomena were repeated exactly as described, and were followed by a dark night and torrents of rain. It was a very unusual instance of what is known as electric glow; that is, electricity without tension.

On our road to Genoa, we went to see some kind Piedmontese friends, who have a chateau in the Monferrat, not many miles from Asti, where we left the railroad. We had not gone many miles when the carriage we had hired was upset, and, although nobody had broken bones, I got so severe a blow on my forehead that I was confined to bed for nearly a month, and my face was black and blue for a much longer time. Nothing could equal the unwearied kindness of our friends during my illness.

When I was able to travel, we went to Genoa for the winter, and lived on the second floor of a large house on the Acqua Sola, and overlooking the sea. Here first began our friendship with the Marchesa Teresa Doria, whose maiden name was Durazzo; in her youth one of the handsomest women in Genoa, a lady distinguished for her generous character and cultivated mind, and who fearlessly avowed her opinions at a time when it was a kind of disgrace to be called a Liberal. Her youngest son, Giacomo, has devoted his life to the study of natural history, and his mother used all her influence to encourage and help him in a pursuit so unusual amongst people of rank in this country. Later, he travelled in Persia for two years, to make collections, and since then resided for a long time in Borneo, and is now arranging a museum in his native city. The Marchesa has always been a warm and devoted friend to me and mine.

It was here that we got our dear old parrot Lory, who is still alive and merry.

* * * * *

Our next move was to Florence, where we already knew many people. We had a lease of a house in Via del Mandorlo, which had a small garden and a balcony, where we often sat and received in the warm summer evenings. My daughters had adorned it and the garden with rare creepers, shrubs, and flowers.

We had a visit from our friend Gibson, as he passed through Florence on his way to Switzerland. He told us the history of his early life, as given in his biography, and much that is not mentioned there. He was devotedly attached to the Queen, and spoke of her in his simple manner as a charming lady.

Miss Hosmer was travelling with Gibson, an American young lady, who was his pupil, and of whose works he was very proud. He looked upon her as if she had been his daughter, and she took care of him; for he was careless and forgetful when travelling. I have the sincerest pleasure in expressing my admiration for Miss Hosmer, who has proved by her works that our sex possesses both genius and originality in the highest branches of art.

It was at Florence that I first met my dear friend and constant correspondent, Frances Power Cobbe. She is the cleverest and most agreeable woman I ever met with, and one of the best. There is a distant connection between us, as one of her ancestors married a niece of Lord Fairfax, the Parliamentary general, many of whose letters are in the possession of her family. A German professor of physiology at Florence roused public indignation by his barbarous vivisections, and there was a canvass for a Memorial against this cruel practice. Miss Cobbe took a leading part in this movement, and I heartily joined, and wrote to all my acquaintances, requesting their votes; among others, to a certain Marchese, who had published something on agriculture. He refused his vote, saying, "Perhaps I was not aware that the present state of science was one of induction." Then he went on explaining to me what "induction" meant, &c., &c., which amused me not a little. It made my family very indignant, as they thought it eminently presumptuous, addressed to me by a man who, though a good patriot and agriculturist, knew nothing whatever about science, past or present. A good deal of political party spirit was brought into play in this instance, as is too often the case here. It is not complimentary to the state of civilisation in Italy, that in Russia and Poland, both of them very far behind her in many respects, there should exist societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, to which all the most distinguished people have given their names.

[I rejoice to say that this stain on Italian civilisation is now wiped away. My mother just lived to hail the formation of the Societa Protettrice degli Animali.—ED.]

In summer we sometimes made excursions to avoid the heat of Florence. One year we went to Valombrosa and the convents of La Vernia, and Camaldoli, which are now suppressed. We travelled on mules or ponies, as the mountain paths are impracticable to carriages. I was disappointed in Valombrosa itself, but the road to it is beautiful. La Vernia is highly picturesque, there we remained two days, which I spent in drawing. The trees round the convent formed a striking contrast to the arid cliffs we had passed on the road. The monks were naturally delighted to see strangers. They belonged to the order of St. Francis, and each in his turn wandered over the country begging and living on the industry of others. We did not pay for our food and lodging, but left much more than an equivalent in the poor-box. Somerville slept in the convent, and we ladies were lodged in the so-called Foresteria outside; but even Somerville was not admitted into the clausura at Camaldoli, for the monks make a vow of perpetual silence and solitude. Each had his little separate hut and garden, and some distance above the convent, on the slopes of the Apennines, they had an establishment called the Eremo, for those who sought for even greater solitude. The people told us that in winter, when deep snow covers the whole place, wolves are often seen prowling about. Not far from the Eremo there is a place from whence both the Mediterranean and the Adriatic can be seen.

We occasionally went for sea-bathing to Viareggio, which is built on a flat sandy beach. The loose sand is drifted by the wind into low hillocks, and bound together by coarse grass thickly coated with silex. Among this and other plants a lovely white amaryllis, the Pancratium Maritimum, with a sweet and powerful perfume, springs up. We often tried to get the bulb, but it lay too deep under the sand. One evening we had gone a long way in search of these flowers, and sat down to rest, though it was beginning to be dark. We had not sat many minutes when we were surrounded by a number of what we supposed to be bats trying to get at the flowers we had gathered, but at length we discovered that they were enormous moths, which followed us home, and actually flew into the room to soar over the flowers and suck the honey with their long probosces. They were beautiful creatures with large red eyes on their wings.

* * * * *

Our life at Florence went on pretty much as usual when all at once cholera broke out of the most virulent kind. Multitudes fled from Florence; often in vain, for it prevailed all through Tuscany to a great extent. The terrified people were kneeling to the Madonna and making processions, after which it was remarked that the number of cases was invariably increased. The Misericordia went about in their fearful costume, indefatigable in carrying the sick to the hospitals. The devotion of that society was beyond all praise; the young and the old, the artisan and the nobleman, went night and day in detachments carrying aid to the sufferers, not in Florence only, but to Fiesole and the villages round. We never were afraid, but we consulted Professor Zanetti, our medical adviser, whether we should leave the town, which we were unwilling to do, as we thought we should be far from medical assistance, and he said, "By no means; live as usual, drive out as you have always done, and make not the smallest change." We followed his advice, and drove out every afternoon till near dark, and then passed the rest of the evening with those friends who, like ourselves, had remained in town. None of us took the disease except one of our servants, who recovered from instant help being given.

The Marquis of Normanby was British minister at that time, and Lady Normanby and he were always kind and hospitable to us. At her house we became acquainted with Signora Barbieri-Nini, the celebrated opera-singer, who had retired from the stage, and lived with her husband, a Sienese gentleman, in a villa not far from Villa Normanby. She gave a musical party, to which she invited us. The music, which was entirely artistic, was excellent, the entertainment very handsome, and it was altogether very enjoyable. As we were driving home afterwards, late at night, going down the hill, our carriage ran against one of the dead carts which was carrying those who had died that day to the burying-ground at Trespiano. It was horribly ghastly—one could distinguish the forms of the limbs under the canvas thrown over the heap of dead. The burial of the poor and rich in Italy is in singular contrast; the poor are thrown into the grave without a coffin, the rich are placed in coffins, and in full dress, which, especially in the case of youth and infancy, leaves a pleasant impression. An intimate friend of ours lost an infant, and asked me to go and see it laid out. The coffin, lined with white silk, was on a table, covered with a white cloth, strewed with flowers, and with a row of wax lights on either side. The baby was clothed in a white satin frock, leaving the neck and arms bare; a rose-bud was in each hand, and a wreath of rose-buds surrounded the head, which rested on a pillow. Nothing could be prettier; it was like a sleeping angel.

* * * * *

Pio Nono had lost his popularity before he came to visit the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The people received him respectfully, but without enthusiasm; nevertheless, Florence was illuminated in his honour. The Duomo, Campanile, and the old tower in the Piazza dei Signori were very fine, but the Lung' Arno was beautiful beyond description; the river was full, and reflected the whole with dazzling splendour.

I made the acquaintance of Signore Donati, afterwards celebrated for the discovery of one of the most brilliant comets of this century, whose course and changes I watched with the greatest interest. On one occasion I was accompanied by my valued friend Sir Henry Holland, who had come to Florence during one of his annual journeys. I had much pleasure in seeing him again.

Political parties ran very high in Florence; we sympathised with the Liberals, living on intimate terms with the chief of them. As soon as the probability of war between Piedmont and Austria became known, many young men of every rank, some even of the highest families, hastened to join as volunteers. The most sanguine long hoped that the Grand Duke might remember that he was an Italian prince rather than an Austrian archduke, and would send his troops to join the Italian cause; but his dynasty was doomed, and he blindly chose the losing side. At last the Austrians crossed the Mincio, and the war fairly broke out, France coming to the assistance of Piedmont. The enthusiasm of the Tuscans could then no longer be restrained, and on the 27th April 1859, crowds of people assembled on the Piazza dell' Indipendenza, and raised the tri-coloured flag. The government, who, the day before, had warning of what was impending, had sent sealed orders to the forts of Belvedere and del Basso, which, when opened on the eventful morning, were found to contain orders for the bombardment of the town. This the officers refused to do, after which the troops joined the popular cause. When this order became generally known, as it soon did, it proved the last blow to the dynasty, although the most eminent and respected Liberals used their best efforts during the whole of the 27th to restore harmony between the Grand Duke and the people. They advised his immediate abdication in favour of his son, the Archduke Ferdinand, the proclamation of the Constitution, and of course insisted on the immediate alliance with Piedmont as their principal condition. It was already too late! All was of no avail, and in the evening, whilst we were as usual at the Cascine, the whole Imperial family, accompanied by the Austrian minister, and escorted by several of the Corps Diplomatique, drove round the walls from Palazzo Pitti to Porta San Gallo unmolested amid a silent crowd, and crossing the frontier on the Bologna road, bade farewell for ever to Tuscany. The obnoxious ministers were also permitted to retire unnoticed to their country houses.

Thus ended this bloodless revolution; there was no disorder of any kind, which was due to the young men belonging to the principal families of Florence, such as Corsini, Incontri, Farinola, and others, using their influence with the people to calm and direct them. Indeed, so quiet was everything that my daughters walked about the streets, as did most ladies, to see what was going on; the only visible signs of the revolution throughout the whole day were bands of young men with tri-coloured flags and cockades shouting national songs at the top of their voices. As I have said already, we took our usual drive to the Cascine after dinner, and went to the theatre in the evening; the streets were perfectly quiet, and next morning the people were at work as usual. Sir James Scarlett was our minister, and had a reception the evening after these events, where we heard many predictions of evil which never were fulfilled. The least of these was the occupation of Florence by a victorious Austrian army. The Tuscan archdukes precluded all chance of a restoration by joining the Austrian army, and being present at the battle of Solferino. At Florence a provisional government was formed with Bettino Ricasoli at its head; a parliament assembled three times in the Sala dei Cinquecento, in the Palazzo Vecchio, and voted with unanimity the expulsion of the House of Lorraine, and the annexation of Tuscany to the kingdom of Italy. In the meantime the French and Italian arms were victorious in Lombardy. As, however, it is not my intention to give an historical account of the revolution of 1859, but merely to jot down such circumstances as came under my own immediate notice, I shall not enter into any particulars regarding the well-known campaign which ended in the cession of Milan and Lombardy to Italy.

We were keenly interested in the alliance between the Emperor Napoleon and the King of Italy, in hopes the Quadrilateral would be taken, and Venice added to the Italian States. We had a map of Northern Italy spread on a table, and from day to day we marked the positions of the different headquarters with coloured-headed pins. I can hardly describe our indignation when all at once peace was signed at Villafranca, and Napoleon received Nice and Savoy in recompense for his aid, which were given up to him without regard to the will of the people. When the peace was announced in Tuscany it caused great consternation and disgust; the people were in the greatest excitement, fearing that those rulers so obnoxious to them might by this treaty be again forced upon them; and it required the firm hand of Ricasoli to calm the people, and induce the King to accept the annexation which had been voted without one dissentient voice.

Baron Ricasoli had naturally many enemies amongst the Codini, or retrograde party. Hand-grenades were thrown against the door of his house, as also at those of other ministers, but without doing harm. One evening my daughters were dressing to go to a ball that was to take place at the Palazzo delle Crocelle, close to us, in a street parallel to ours, when we were startled by a loud explosion. An attempt had been made to throw a shell into the ball-room, which had happily failed. The streets were immediately lined with soldiers, and the ball, which was given by the Ministers, as far as I recollect, took place.

When the war broke out, a large body of French troops, commanded by Prince Jerome Napoleon, came to Florence, and were bivouacked in the Cascine. The people in the streets welcomed them as deliverers from the Austrians, whose occupation of Tuscany, when first we came to reside in Florence, was such a bitter mortification to them, and one of the causes of the unpopularity of the Grand Duke, whom they never forgave for calling in the Austrian troops after 1848. The French camp was a very pretty sight; some of the soldiers playing at games, some mending their clothes, or else cooking. They were not very particular as to what they ate, for one of my daughters saw a soldier skin a rat and put it into his soup-kettle.

We were invited by the Marchesa Lajatico, with whom we were very intimate, to go and see the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Florence from the balcony of the Casa Corsini in the Piazza del Prato, where she resides. The King was received with acclamation: never was anything like the enthusiasm. Flowers were showered down from every window, and the streets were decorated with a taste peculiar to the Italians.

[I think the following extracts from letters written by my mother during the year 1859 and the following, ever memorable in Italian history, may not be unwelcome to the reader. My mother took the keenest interest in all that occurred. Owing to the liberal opinions she had held from her youth, and to which she was ever constant, all her sympathies were with the Italian cause, and she rejoiced at every step which tended to unite all Italy in one kingdom. She lived to see this great revolution accomplished by the entry of Victor Emmanuel into Rome as King of Italy; a consummation believed by most politicians to be a wild dream of poets and hot-headed patriots, but now realised and accepted as a matter of course. My mother had always firm faith in this result, and it was with inexpressible pleasure she watched its completion. Our intimacy with the leading politicians both in Tuscany and Piedmont naturally added to our interest. Ricasoli, Menabrea, Peruzzi, Minghetti, &c., we knew intimately, as well as Camillo Cavour, the greatest statesman Italy ever produced. No one who did not witness it can imagine the grief and consternation his death occasioned, and of which my mother writes in a letter dated June 19th, 1861.]

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, May 5th, 1859.

MY DEAREST W.,

Your letter of the 28th would have made me laugh heartily were we not annoyed that you should have suffered such uneasiness on our account; the panic in England is ridiculous and most unfounded. The whole affair has been conducted with perfect unanimity and tranquillity, so that there has been no one to fight with. The Austrians are concentrated in Lombardy, and not in Tuscany, nor is there any one thing to disturb the perfect peace and quietness which prevail over the whole country; not a soul thinks of leaving Florence. You do the greatest injustice to the Tuscans. From first to last not a person has been insulted, not a cry raised against anyone; even the obnoxious ministers were allowed to go to their country houses without a word of insult, and troops were sent with the Grand Duke to escort him and his family to the frontier. Martha and Mary went all through the town the morning of the revolution, which was exactly like a common festa, and we found the tranquillity as great when we drove through the streets in the afternoon. The same quiet still prevails, the people are at their usual employments, the theatres and private receptions go on as usual, and the provisional government is excellent. Everyone knew of the revolution long before it took place and the quietness with which it was to be conducted. I am grieved at the tone of English politics; and trust, for the honour of the country and humanity, that we do not intend to make war upon France and Sardinia. It would be a disgrace and everlasting stigma to make a crusade against the oppressed, being ourselves free. The people here have behaved splendidly, and we rejoice that we have been here to witness such noble conduct. No nation ever made such progress as the Tuscans have done since the year '48. Not a word of republicanism, it has never been named. All they want is a constitutional government, and this they are quietly settling....

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, 29th May, 1859.

... Everything is perfectly quiet here; the Tuscans are giving money liberally for carrying on the war. We have bought quantities of old linen, and your sisters and I spend the day in making lint and bandages for the wounded soldiers; great quantities have already been sent to Piedmont. Hitherto the war has been favourable to the allied army. God grant that England may not enter into the contest till the Austrians are driven out of Italy! After that point has been gained, our honour would be safe. To take part with the oppressors and maintain despotism in Italy would be infamous. Tuscany is to be occupied by a large body of troops under the command of Prince Napoleon. A great many are already encamped on the meadows at the Cascine—fine, spirited, merry young men; many of them have the Victoria medal. They are a thorough protection against any attack by the Austrians, of which, however, there is little chance, as they have enough to do in Lombardy. There is to be a great affair this morning at nine o'clock; an altar is raised in the middle of the camp, and the tricolour (Italian) flag is to be blessed amidst salvoes of cannon. Your friend, Bettino Ricasoli, is thought by far the most able and statesmanlike person in Tuscany; he is highly respected. Martha and I dined with Mr. Scarlett, and met ... who said if the Grand Duke had not been the most foolish and obstinately weak man in the world, he might still have been on the throne of Tuscany; but that now he has made that impossible by going to Vienna and allowing his two sons to enter the Austrian army.... We have had a visit from Dr. Falconer, his two nieces and brother. They had been spending the winter in Sicily, where he discovered rude implements formed by man mixed with the bones of prehistoric animals in a cave, so hermetically shut up that not a doubt is left of a race of men having lived at a period far anterior to that assigned as the origin of mankind. Similar discoveries have recently been made elsewhere. Dr. Falkner had travelled much in the Himalayas, and lived two years on the great plain of Tibet; the account he gave me of it was most interesting. His brother had spent fifteen years in Australia, so the conversation delighted me; I learnt so much that was new. I am glad to hear that the Queen has been so kind to my friend Faraday; it seems she has given him an apartment at Hampton Court nicely fitted up. She went to see it herself, and having consulted scientific men as to the instruments that were necessary for his pursuits, she had a laboratory fitted up with them, and made him a present of the whole. That is doing things handsomely, and no one since Newton has deserved it so much.

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, 5th June, 1859.

... All is perfectly quiet; a large body of French troops are now in Tuscany, and many more are expected probably to make a diversion on this side of the Austrian army through Modena; but nothing is known; the most profound secrecy is maintained as to all military movements. Success has hitherto attended the allied army, and the greatest bravery has been shown. The enthusiasm among the men engaged is excessive, the King of Sardinia himself the bravest of the brave, but exposes himself so much that the people are making petitions to him to be more careful. The Zouaves called out in the midst of the battle, "Le roi est un Zouave!" Prince Napoleon keeps very quiet, and avoids shewing himself as much as possible. The French troops are very fine indeed—young, gay, extremely civil and well bred. The secrecy is quite curious; even the colonels of the regiments do not know where they may be sent till the order comes: so all is conjecture.... The young King of Naples seems to follow the footsteps of his father; I hope in God that we may not protect and defend him. How anxious we are to know what the House of Commons will do! Let us hope they will take the liberal side; but the conservative party seems to be increasing.

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, 22nd August, 1859.

... Public affairs go on admirably. A few weeks ago the elections took place of the members of the Tuscan parliament with a calm and tranquillity of which you have no idea. Every proprietor who pays 15 pauls of taxes (75 pence) has a vote. There are 180 members, consisting of the most ancient nobility, the richest proprietors, the most distinguished physicians and lawyers, and the most respectable merchants. They hold their meetings in the magnificent hall of the Palazzo Vecchio—the Sala Dei Cinquecento. The first two or three days were employed in choosing a president &c., &c.; then a day was named to determine the fate of the house of Lorraine. I could not go, but Martha went with a Tuscan friend. There was no speaking; the vote was by ballot, and each member separately went up to a table before the president, and silently put his ball into a large vase. Two members poured the balls into a tray, and on examination, said, "No division is necessary; they are all black,"—which was followed by long and loud cheering. They have been equally unanimous in the Legations in Parma and Modena; and the wish of the people is to form one kingdom of these four states under an Italian prince, excluding all Austrians for ever. The union is perfect, and the determination quiet but deep and unalterable. If the Archduke is forced upon them, it must be by armed force, which the French emperor will not likely permit, after the Archduke was fool enough to fight against him at Solferino. All the four states have unanimously voted union with Piedmont; but they do not expect it to be granted. The destinies of Europe are now dependent on the two emperors....

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, 23rd April, 1860.

You would have had this letter sooner, my dearest Woronzow, if I had not been prevented from writing to you yesterday evening.... The weather has been atrocious; deluges of rain night and day, and so cold that I have been obliged to lay in a second supply of wood. The only good day, and the only one I have been out, was that on which the king arrived. It fortunately was fine, and the sight was magnificent; quite worthy of so great an historical event. No carriages were allowed after the guns fired announcing that the king had left Leghorn; so we should have been ill off, had it not been for the kindness of our friend the Marchesa Lajatico, who invited us to her balcony, which is now very large, as they have built an addition to their house for the eldest son and his pretty wife. We were there some hours before the king arrived; but as all the Florentine society was there, and many of our friends from Turin and Genoa, we found it very agreeable. The house is in the Prato, very near the gate the king was to enter. On each side of it stages were raised like steps in an amphitheatre, which were densely crowded, every window decorated with gaily-coloured hangings and the Italian flag; the streets were lined with "guardie civiche," and bands of music played from time to time. The people shouted "Evviva!" every time a gun was fired. In the midst of this joy, there appeared what resembled a funeral procession—about a hundred emigrants following the Venetian, Roman, and Neapolitan colours, all hung with black crape; they were warmly applauded, and many people shed tears. They went to the railway station just without the gate to meet the King, and when they hailed him as "Re d'Italia!" he was much affected. At last he appeared riding a fine English horse, Prince Carignan on one hand and Baron Ricasoli on his left, followed by a numerous "troupe doree" of generals and of his suite in gay uniforms and well mounted. The King rides well; so the effect was extremely brilliant. Then followed several carriages; in the first were Count Cavour, Buoncompagni, and the Marchese Bartolommei. You cannot form the slightest idea of the excitement; it was a burst of enthusiasm, and the reception of Cavour was as warm. We threw a perfect shower of flowers over him, which the Marchesa had provided for the occasion; and her youngest son Cino, a nice lad, went himself to present his bouquet to the King, who seemed quite pleased with the boy. I felt so much for Madame de Lajatico herself.... I said to her how kind I thought it in her to open her house; she burst into tears, and said, though she was in deep affliction, she could not be so selfish as not offer her friends the best position in Florence for seeing what to many of them was the most important event in their lives, as it was to her even in her grief. The true Italian taste appeared to perfection in every street through which the procession passed to the Duomo, and thence to the Palazzo Pitti. Those who saw it declare nothing could surpass the splendour of the cathedral when illuminated; but that we could not see, nor did we see the procession again; it was impossible to penetrate the crowd. They say there are 40,000 strangers in Florence.... I was much too tired to go out again to see the illuminations and the fireworks on the Ponte Carraja; your sisters saw it all, so I leave them to tell you all about it. The King and Prince are terribly early; they and Ricasoli are on horseback by five in the morning; the King dines at twelve, and never touches food afterwards, though he has a dinner party of 60 or 80 every day at six.... Now, my dearest Woronzow, I must end, for I do not wish to miss another post. I am really wonderfully well for my age.

Your devoted mother, MARY SOMERVILLE.

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

FLORENCE, 19th June, 1861.

... Italy has been thrown into the deepest affliction by the death of Cavour. In my long life I never knew any event whatever which caused so universal and deep sorrow. There is not a village or town throughout the whole peninsula which has not had a funeral service, and the very poorest people, who had hardly clothes on their backs, had black crape tied round their arm or neck. It was a state of consternation, and no wonder! Every one felt that the greatest and best man of this century has been taken away before he had completely emancipated his country. All the progress is due to him, and to him alone; the revolution has called forth men of much talent, yet the whole are immeasurably his inferior in every respect—even your friend, Ricasoli, who is most able, and the best successor that can be found, is, compared with Cavour, as Tuscany to Europe. Happily the sad loss did not occur sooner. Now things are so far advanced that they cannot go back, and I trust that Ricasoli, who is not wanting in firmness and moral courage, will complete what has been so happily begun. I am sorry to say he is not in very good health, but I trust he will not fall into the hands of the physician who attended Cavour, and who mistook his disease, reduced him by loss of blood, and then finding out his real illness, tried to strengthen him when too late. There was a most excellent article in the "Times" on the two statesmen.

[My mother's recollections continue thus:—]

* * * * *

One night the moon shone so bright that we sent the carriage away, and walked home from a reception at the Marchesa Ginori's. In crossing the Piazza San Marco, an acquaintance, who accompanied us, took us to the Maglio, which is close by, to hear an echo. I like an echo; yet there is something so unearthly in the aerial voice, that it never fails to raise a superstitious chill in me, such as I have felt more than once as I read "Ossian" while travelling among our Highland hills in my early youth. In one of the grand passes of the Oberland, when we were in Switzerland, we were enveloped in a mist, through which peaks were dimly seen. We stopped to hear an echo; the response came clear and distinct from a great distance, and I felt as if the Spirit of the Mountain had spoken. The impression depends on accessory circumstances; for the roar of a railway train passing over a viaduct has no such effect.

* * * * *

I lost my husband in Florence on the 26th June, 1860.... From the preceding narrative may be seen the sympathy, affection, and confidence, which always existed between us....

[After what has already been said of the happiness my mother enjoyed during the long years of their married life, it may be imagined what grief was her's at my father's death after only three days' illness. My mother's dear friend and correspondent, Miss F.P. Cobbe, wrote to her as follows on this occasion:—]

"I have just learned from a letter from Captain Fairfax to my brother the great affliction which has befallen you. I cannot express to you how it has grieved me to think that such a sorrow should have fallen on you, and that the dear, kind old man, whose welcome so often touched and gratified me, should have passed away so soon after I had seen you both, as I often thought, the most beautiful instance of united old age. His love and pride in you, breaking out as it did at every instant when you happened to be absent, gives me the measure of what his loss must be to your warm heart."

* * * * *

[The following letter from my mother, dated April, 1861, addressed to her sister-in-law, was written after reading my grandfather's "Life and Times," the publication of which my father did not live to see.]

* * * * *

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO MRS. ELLIOT, OF ROSEBANK, ROXBURGHSHIRE.

FLORENCE, 28th April, 1861.

MY DEAR JANET,—

I received the precious volume[14] you have so kindly sent to me some days ago, but I have delayed thanking you for it till now because we all wished to read it first. We are highly pleased, and have been deeply interested in it. The whole tone of the book is characteristic of your dear father; the benevolence, warm-heartedness, and Christian charity which appeared in the whole course of his life and ministry. That which has struck us all most forcibly is the liberality of his sentiments, both religious and political, at a time when narrow views and bigotry made it even dangerous to avow them, and it required no small courage to do so. He was far in advance of the age in which he lived; his political opinions are those of the present day, his religious opinions still before it. There are many parts of the book which will please the general reader from the graphic description of the manners and customs of the time, as well as the narrative of his intercourse with many of the eminent men of his day. Your most dear father's affectionate remembrance of me touches me deeply. I have but one regret, dear Jenny, and that is that our dear William did not live to see the accomplishment of what was his dying wish; but God's will be done.... We are all much as usual: I am wonderfully well, and able to write, which I do for a time every day. I do not think I feel any difference in capacity, but I become soon tired, and then I read the newspapers, some amusing book, or work.... Everything is flourishing in Italy, and the people happy and contented, except those who were employed and dependent on the former sovereigns, but they are few in comparison; and now there is a fine army of 200,000 men to defend the country, even if Austria should make an attack, but that is not likely at present. Rome is still the difficulty, but the Pope must and soon will lose his temporal power, for the people are determined it shall be so....

I am, dear sister, Most affectionately yours, MARY SOMERVILLE.

To MRS. ELLIOT, of Rosebank, Roxburghshire.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 14: The Rev. P. Somerville's "Life and Times."]



CHAPTER XVII.

SPEZIA—GENOA—BEGINS MOLECULAR AND MICROSCOPIC SCIENCE—TURIN—SPEZIA—BRITISH FLEET—LETTERS FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE—GARIBALDI—SEVERE ILLNESS—FLORENCE—MY BROTHER'S DEATH—NAPLES—ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS—J.S. MILL—CHANGE IN PUBLIC OPINION ON WOMEN'S EDUCATION—EIGHTY-NINTH YEAR—DESCRIBES HER OWN CHARACTER—THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE LIFE—PROGRESS IN KNOWLEDGE OF GEOGRAPHY—VICTORIA MEDAL—MEDAL FROM ROYAL ITALIAN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY—LETTER FROM MENABREA—ROME, CAPITAL OF ITALY—AURORA BOREALIS.

Soon after my dear husband's death, we went to Spezia, as my health required change, and for some time we made it our headquarters, spending one winter at Florence, another at Genoa, where my son and his wife came to meet us, and where I had very great delight in the beautiful singing of our old friend Clara Novello, now Countess Gigliucci, who used to come to my house, and sing Handel to me. It was a real pleasure, and her voice was as pure and silvery as when I first heard her, years before. Another winter we spent at Turin. On returning to Spezia in the summer of 1861, the beautiful comet visible that year appeared for the first time the very evening we arrived. On the following, and during many evenings while it was visible, we used to row in a small boat a little way from shore, in order to see it to greater advantage. Nothing could be more poetical than the clear starlit heavens with this beautiful comet reflected, nay, almost repeated, in the calm glassy water of the gulf. The perfect silence and stillness of the scene was very impressive.

I was now unoccupied, and felt the necessity of having something to do, desultory reading being insufficient to interest me; and as I had always considered the section on chemistry the weakest part of the connection of the "Physical Sciences," I resolved to write it anew. My daughters strongly opposed this, saying, "Why not write a new book?" They were right; it would have been lost time: so I followed their advice, though it was a formidable undertaking at my age, considering that the general character of science had greatly changed. By the improved state of the microscope, an invisible creation in the air, the earth, and the water, had been brought within the limits of human vision; the microscopic structure of plants and animals had been minutely studied, and by synthesis many substances had been formed of the elementary atoms similar to those produced by nature. Dr. Tyndall's experiments had proved the inconceivable minuteness of the atoms of matter; Mr. Gassiot and Professor Pluecher had published their experiments on the stratification of the electric light; and that series of discoveries by scientific men abroad, but chiefly by our own philosophers at home, which had been in progress for a course of years, prepared the way for Bunsen and Kirchhof's marvellous consummation.

Such was the field opened to me; but instead of being discouraged by its magnitude, I seemed to have resumed the perseverance and energy of my youth, and began to write with courage, though I did not think I should live to finish even the sketch I had made, and which I intended to publish under the name of "Molecular and Microscopic Science," and assumed as my motto, "Deus magnus in magnis, maximus in minimis," from Saint Augustin.

My manuscript notes on Science were now of the greatest use; and we went for the winter to Turin (1861-1862), where I could get books from the public libraries, and much information on subjects of natural history from Professor De Filippi, who has recently died, much regretted, while on a scientific mission to Japan and China, as well as from other sources. I subscribed to various periodicals on chemical and other branches of science; the transactions of several of our societies were sent to me, and I began to write. I was now an old woman, very deaf and with shaking hands; but I could still see to thread the finest needle, and read the finest print, but I got sooner tired when writing than I used to do. I wrote regularly every morning from eight till twelve or one o'clock before rising. I was not alone, for I had a mountain sparrow, a great pet, which sat, and indeed is sitting on my arm as I write these lines.

The Marchese Doria has a large property at Spezia, and my dear friend Teresa Doria generally spent the evening with us, when she and I chatted and played Bezique together. Her sons also came frequently, and some of the officers of the Italian navy. One who became our very good friend is Captain William Acton, now Admiral, and for two years Minister of Marine; he is very handsome, and, what is better, a most agreeable, accomplished gentleman, who has interested himself in many branches of natural history, besides being a good linguist. In summer the British squadron, commanded by Admiral Smart, came for five weeks to Spezia. My nephew, Henry Fairfax, was commander on board the ironclad "Resistance." Notwithstanding my age, I was so curious to see an ironclad that I went all over the "Resistance," even to the engine-room and screw-alley. I also went to luncheon on board the flagship "Victoria," a three-decker, which put me in mind of olden times.

[The following extracts are from letters of my mother's, written in 1863 and 1865:—]

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

SPEZIA, 12th May, 1863.

How happy your last letter has made me, my dearest Woronzow, to hear that you are making real progress, and that you begin to feel better from the Bath waters.... Of your general health I had the very best account this morning from your friend Colonel Gordon. I was most agreeably surprised and gratified by a very kind and interesting letter from him, enclosing his photograph, and giving me an account of his great works at Portsmouth with reference to the defence by iron as well as stone....

I wish I could show you the baskets full of flowers which Martha and Mary bring to me from the mountains. They are wonderfully beautiful; it is one of my greatest amusements putting them in water. I quite regret when they cannot go for them. The orchises and the gladioles are the chief flowers now, but such a variety and such colours! You see we have our quiet pleasures. I often think of more than "60 years ago," when I used to scramble over the Bin at Burntisland after our tods-tails and leddies-fingers, but I fear there is hardly a wild spot existing now in the lowlands of Scotland....

God bless you, my dearest Woronzow.

FROM MRS. SOMERVILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ.

SPEZIA, 27th Sept., 1865.

MY DEAREST WORONZOW,

I fear Agnes and you must have thought your old mother had gone mad when you read M.'s letter. In my sober senses, however, though sufficiently excited to give me strength for the time, I went over every part of the Resistance,[15] and examined everything in detail except the stokehole! I was not even hoisted on board, but mounted the companion-ladder bravely. It was a glorious sight, the perfection of structure in every part astonished me. A ship like that is the triumph of human talent and of British talent, for all confess our superiority in this respect to every other nation, and I am happy to see that no jealousy has arisen from the meeting of the French and English fleets. I was proud that our "young admiral"[16] had the command of so fine a vessel.... I also spent a most agreeable day on board the Victoria, three-decker, and saw every part of the three decks, which are very different from what they were in my father's time; everything on a much larger scale, more elegant and convenient. But the greatest change is in the men; I never saw a finer set, so gentlemanly-looking and well-behaved; almost all can read and write, and they have an excellent library and reading-room in all the ships. No sooner was the fleet gone than the Italian Society of Natural History held their annual meeting here, Capellini[17] being president in the absence (in Borneo) of Giacomo Doria. There were altogether seventy members, Italian, French, and German. I was chosen an Associate by acclamation, and had to write a few lines of thanks. The weather was beautiful and the whole party dined every day on the terrace below our windows, which was very amusing to Miss Campbell and your sisters, who distinctly heard the speeches. I was invited to dinner and the wife of the celebrated Professor Vogt was asked to meet me; I declined dining, as it lasted so long that I should have been too tired, but I went down to the dessert. Capellini came for me, and all rose as I came in, and every attention was shown me, my health was drank, &c. &c. It lasted four days, and we had many evening visits, and I received a quantity of papers on all subjects. I am working very hard (for me at least), but I cannot hurry, nor do I see the need for it. I write so slowly on account of the shaking of my hand that although my head is clear I make little but steady progress....

Your affectionate mother, MARY SOMERVILLE.

* * * * *

After the battle of Aspromonte, Garibaldi arrived a prisoner on board a man-of-war, and was placed at Varignano under surveillance. His wound had not been properly dressed, and he was in a state of great suffering. Many surgeons came from all parts of Italy, and one even from England, to attend him, but the eminent Professor Nelaton saved him from amputation, with which he was threatened, by extracting the bullet from his ankle. I never saw Garibaldi during his three months' residence at Varignano and Spezia; I had no previous acquaintance with him; consequently, as I could be of no use to him, I did not consider myself entitled to intrude upon him merely to gratify my own curiosity, although no one admired his noble and disinterested character more than I did. Not so, many of my countrymen, and countrywomen too, as well as ladies of other nations, who worried the poor man out of his life, and made themselves eminently ridiculous. One lady went so far as to collect the hairs from his comb,—others showered tracts upon him.

I had hitherto been very healthy; but in the beginning of winter I was seized with a severe illness which, though not immediately dangerous, lasted so long, that it was doubtful whether I should have stamina to recover. It was a painful and fatiguing time to my daughters. They were quite worn out with nursing me; our maid was ill, and our man-servant, Luigi Lucchesi, watched me with such devotion that he sat up twenty-four nights with me. He has been with us eighteen years, and now that I am old and feeble, he attends me with unceasing kindness. It is but justice to say that we never were so faithfully or well served as by Italians; and none are more ingenious in turning their hands to anything, and in never objecting to do this or that, as not what they were hired for,—a great quality for people who, like ourselves, keep few servants. After a time they identify themselves with the family they serve, as my faithful Luigi has done with all his heart. I am sincerely attached to him.

* * * * *

In the spring, when I had recovered, my son and his wife came to Spezia, and we all went to Florence, where we had the pleasure of seeing many old friends. We returned to Spezia, and my son and his wife left us to go back to England, intending to meet us again somewhere the following spring. I little thought we never should meet again.... My son sent his sisters a beautiful little cutter, built by Mr. Forrest in London, which has been a great resource to them. I always insist on their taking a good sailor with them, although I am not in the least nervous for their safety. Indeed, small as the "Frolic" is—and she is only about twenty-eight feet from stem to stern—she has weathered some stiff gales gallantly, as, for instance, when our friend, Mr. Montague Brown, British consul at Genoa, sailed her from Genoa to Spezia in very bad weather; and in a very dangerous squall my daughters were caught in, coming from Amalfi to Sorrento. The "Frolic" had only just arrived at Spezia, when we heard of the sudden death of my dear son, Oct., 1865.

[This event, which took from my mother's last years one of her chief delights, she bore with her usual calm courage, looking forward confidently to a reunion at no distant date with one who had been the most dutiful of sons and beloved of friends. She never permitted herself, in writing her Recollections, to refer to her feelings under these great sorrows.]

* * * * *

Some time after this, my widowed daughter-in-law spent a few months with us. On her return to London, I sent the manuscript of the "Molecular and Microscopic Science" with her for publication. In writing this book I made a great mistake, and repent it. Mathematics are the natural bent of my mind. If I had devoted myself exclusively to that study, I might probably have written something useful, as a new era had begun in that science. Although I got "Chasles on the Higher Geometry," it could be but a secondary object while I was engaged in writing a popular book. Subsequently, it became a source of deep interest and occupation to me.

Spezia is very much spoilt by the works in progress for the arsenal, though nothing can change the beauty of the gulf as seen from our windows, especially the group of the Carrara mountains, with fine peaks and ranges of hills, becoming more and more verdant down to the water's edge. The effect of the setting-sun on this group is varied and brilliant beyond belief. Even I, in spite of my shaking hand, resumed the brush, and painted a view of the ruined Castle of Ostia, at the mouth of the Tiber, from a sketch of my own, for my dear friend Teresa Doria.

We now came to live at Naples; and on leaving Spezia, I spent a fortnight with Count and Countess Usedom at the Villa Capponi, near Florence, where, though unable to visit, I had the pleasure of seeing my Florentine friends again.

We spent two days in Rome, and dined with our friends the Duca and Duchesa di Sermoneta. We were grieved at his blindness, but found him as agreeable as ever.

Through our friend, Admiral Acton, I became acquainted with Professor Panceri, Professor of Comparative Anatomy; Signore de Gasparis, who has discovered nine of the minor planets, and is an excellent mathematician, and some others. To these gentlemen I am indebted for being elected an honorary member of the Accademia Pontoniana.

We were much interested in Vesuvius, which, for several months, was in a state of great activity. At first, there were only volumes of smoke and some small streams of lava, but these were followed by the most magnificent projections of red hot stones and rocks rising 2,000 feet above the top of the mountain. Many fell back again into the crater, but a large portion were thrown in fiery showers down the sides of the cone. At length, these beautiful eruptions of lapilli ceased, and the lava flowed more abundantly, though, being intermittent and always issuing from the summit, it was quite harmless; volumes of smoke and vapour rose from the crater, and were carried by the wind to a great distance. In sunshine the contrast was beautiful, between the jet-black smoke and the silvery-white clouds of vapour. At length, the mountain returned to apparent tranquillity, though the violent detonations occasionally heard gave warning that the calm might not last long. At last, one evening, in November, 1868, when one of my daughters and I were observing the mountain through a very good telescope, lent us by a friend, we distinctly saw a new crater burst out at the foot of the cone in the Atrio del Cavallo, and bursts of red-hot lapilli and red smoke pouring forth in volumes. Early next morning we saw a great stream of lava pouring down to the north of the Observatory, and a column of black smoke issuing from the new craters, because there were two, and assuming the well-known appearance of a pine-tree. The trees on the northern edge of the lava were already on fire. The stream of lava very soon reached the plain, where it overwhelmed fields, vineyards, and houses. It was more than a mile in width and thirty feet deep. My daughters went up the mountain the evening after the new craters were formed; as for me, I could not risk the fatigue of such an excursion, but I saw it admirably from our own windows. During this year the volcanic forces in the interior of the earth were in unusual activity, for a series of earthquakes shook the west coast of South America for more than 2,500 miles, by which many thousands of the inhabitants perished, and many more were rendered homeless. Slight shocks were felt in many parts of Europe, and even in England. Vesuvius was our safety-valve. The pressure must have been very great which opened two new craters in the Atrio del Cavallo and forced out such a mass of matter. There is no evidence that water had been concerned in the late eruption of Vesuvius; but during the whole of the preceding autumn, the fall of rain had been unusually great and continuous. There were frequent thunderstorms; and, on one occasion, the quantity of rain that fell was so great, as to cause a land-slip in Pizzifalcone, by which several houses were overwhelmed; and, on another occasion, the torrent of rain was so violent, that the Riviera di Chiaja was covered, to the depth of half a metre, with mud, and stones brought down by the water from the heights above. This enormous quantity of water pouring on the slopes of Vesuvius, and percolating through the crust of the earth into the fiery caverns, where volcanic forces are generated, being resolved into steam, and possibly aided by the expansion of volcanic gases, may have been a partial agent in propelling the formidable stream of lava which has caused such destruction. We observed, that when lava abounded, the projection of rocks and lapilli either ceased altogether, or became of small amount. The whole eruption ended in a shower of impalpable ashes, which hid the mountain for many days, and which were carried to a great distance by the wind. Sometimes the ashes were pure white, giving the mountain the appearance of being covered with snow. Vapour continued to rise from Vesuvius in beautiful silvery clouds, which ceased and left the edge of the crater white with sublimations. I owe to Vesuvius the great pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr. Phillips, Professor of Geology in the University of Oxford; and, afterwards, that of Sir John Lubbock, and Professor Tyndall, who had come to Naples on purpose to see the eruption. Unfortunately, Sir John Lubbock and Professor Tyndall were so limited for time, that they could only spend one evening with us; but I enjoyed a delightful evening, and had much scientific conversation.

Notwithstanding the progress meteorology has made since it became a subject of exact observation, yet no explanation has been given of the almost unprecedented high summer temperature of 1868 in Great Britain, and even in the Arctic regions. In England, the grass and heather were dried up, and extensive areas were set on fire by sparks from railway locomotives, the conflagrations spreading so rapidly, that they could only be arrested by cutting trenches to intercept their course. The whalers found open water to a higher latitude than usual; but, although the British Government did not avail themselves of this opportunity for further Arctic discovery, Sweden, Germany, France, and especially the United States, have taken up the subject with great energy. Eight expeditions sailed for the North Polar region between the years 1868 and 1870; several for the express purpose of reaching the Polar Sea, which, I have no doubt, will be attained, now that steam has given such power to penetrate the fields of floating ice. It would be more than a dashing exploit to make a cruise on that unknown sea; it would be a discovery of vast scientific importance with regard to geography, magnetism, temperature, the general circulation of the atmosphere and oceans, as well as to natural history. I cannot but regret that I shall not live to hear the result of these voyages.

* * * * *

The British laws are adverse to women; and we are deeply indebted to Mr. Stuart Mill for daring to show their iniquity and injustice. The law in the United States is in some respects even worse, insulting the sex, by granting suffrage to the newly-emancipated slaves, and refusing it to the most highly-educated women of the Republic.

[For the noble character and transcendent intellect of Mr. J.S. Mill my mother had the greatest admiration. She had some correspondence with him on the subject of the petition to Parliament for the extension of the suffrage to women, which she signed; and she also wrote to thank him warmly for his book on the "Subjection of Women." In Mr. Mill's reply to the latter he says:—]

FROM JOHN STUART MILL, ESQ., TO MRS. SOMERVILLE.

BLACKHEATH PARK, July 12th, 1869.

DEAR MADAM,

Such a letter as yours is a sufficient reward for the trouble of writing the little book. I could have desired no better proof that it was adapted to its purpose than such an encouraging opinion from you. I thank you heartily for taking the trouble to express, in such kind terms, your approbation of the book,—the approbation of one who has rendered such inestimable service to the cause of women by affording in her own person so high an example of their intellectual capabilities, and, finally, by giving to the protest in the great Petition of last year the weight and importance derived from the signature which headed it.