Part 9

On July 9, 1804, after five years of absence, he set sail for France. Europe received him with universal joy. He had been reported dead. He was thirty-five, handsome, and famous. He had travelled over forty thousand miles, and brought back over sixty thousand specimens of plants. He was made a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin, and later a member of the Legion of Honor, and of about one hundred and fifty other societies; indeed, of all the great associations of the land.

And now the result of his travels must be given to the world in books. While he was preparing them, he yet found time to spend months together in the Ecole Polytechnique, experimenting in chemistry with his devoted friend Gay-Lussac; with Biot, he made investigations in magnetism; with Arago, in astronomy; with Cuvier, in anatomy.

Most of the time from 1808 to 1827, nineteen years, he remained in Paris, devoting his time to his great work. In the forenoons he usually studied and experimented; from twelve to seven he wrote, and then, if his evenings were spent socially, he wrote again from midnight till half-past two, usually allowing himself only four hours for sleep. So popular was he that he often went to five receptions in an evening.

Year after year his works on America appeared, till twenty-nine volumes were published! The first part was entitled, "Voyage in the Equatorial Regions of the New Continent." This described a portion of his journey in three volumes; views of the Cordilleras and the native peoples of America, one volume with sixty plates; an atlas of the new continent, with thirty-nine maps; a critical examination of the history of the geography of the middle ages, in five volumes. The second part related largely to zooelogy and comparative anatomy in the new regions; the third part related chiefly to Mexico; the fourth part to astronomical observations, measurement with the barometer, etc.; the fifth part, geology, and the geography of plants; the sixth part, plants in Mexico, Cuba, and South America, in two volumes, with nearly one hundred and fifty engravings; two volumes more, with one hundred and twenty colored plates; seven volumes of new species, with seven hundred engravings, and several other books. The expense of bringing out these works was enormous; the copper-plate illustrations cost in printing and paper alone about one hundred and seventy thousand dollars.

As the price of the volumes was about twenty-seven hundred dollars, the number of purchasers was comparatively limited. Humboldt had used all his fortune in his journeys and in publishing his books, and was now a poor man, dependent upon a pension from his king. But he was the pride of his nation, and beloved in France as well.

Humboldt and Guizot were like brothers, and for forty years corresponded affectionately with each other. Arago he held "dearest in this life." His last letter to Arago, "small in size but so full of matter," was the greatest comfort to the dying astronomer.

During all these busy twenty years he had honors heaped upon him. He was offered the position of Ambassador to Vienna, but declined. He accompanied the King of Prussia to England in 1814, and was with him at the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle and at the Congress of Verona.

Busy as he was, he seemed to find time to befriend everybody, especially young men. Liebig says in the preface of his work dedicated to Humboldt: "During my residence in Paris, I gave a course of lectures at the Academy in the winter of 1823-4, upon an analytic investigation of Howard's fulminating mercury and silver--my first effort in the field of science.

"At the close of the sitting of March 22, 1824, while busy packing up my apparatus, a gentleman came up to me from among a group of academicians, and entered into conversation. In the most winning manner, he made inquiry as to the objects of my study, my present occupations, and the plans I had laid for the future. We separated without my knowing to whom I was indebted for this kind expression of interest, for my shyness and inexperience had not allowed me to make the inquiry.

"This conversation laid the foundation of my future career, for I thus acquired a kind friend and a powerful patron in my scientific undertakings....

"From that time all doors were thrown open to me, I had access to every institution and every laboratory: the great interest you took in me procured the love and intimate friendship of my instructors, Gay-Lussac, Dulong, and Thenard, to all of whom I became deeply attached. The confidence which you accorded me was the means of my introduction into a sphere of labor which during the last sixteen years it has ever been my ambition worthily to occupy."

When Agassiz was a poor medical student in Paris, Humboldt visited him. Agassiz says:--

"After a cordial greeting, he walked straight to what was then my library--a small book-shelf containing a few classics, the meanest editions, bought for a trifle, along the quays, some works on philosophy and history, chemistry and physics, his own 'Aspects of Nature,' 'Aristotle's Zooelogy,' 'Linnaeus' Systema Naturae,' in several editions, 'Cuvier's Regne Animal,' and quite a number of manuscript quartos, copies which, with the assistance of my brother, I had made of works I was too poor to buy, though they cost but a few francs a volume....

"It was no doubt apparent to him that I was not over-familiar with the good things of this world, for I shortly afterward received an invitation to meet him at six o'clock in the Galerie Vitree of the Palais Royal, whence he led me into one of those restaurants the tempting windows of which I had occasionally passed by. When we were seated, he half laughingly, half inquiringly, asked me whether I would order the dinner. I declined the invitation, saying that we should fare better if he would take the trouble. And for three hours, which passed like a dream, I had him all to myself. How he examined me, and how much I learned in that short time! How to work, what to do, and what to avoid; how to live; how to distribute my time; what methods of study to pursue; these were the things of which he talked to me on that delightful evening."

Noble Humboldt! so great that everybody honored and looked up to him; so kindly interested in others that everybody loved him!

In 1827, at the request of his king, Humboldt returned to Berlin, and became chamberlain, with a yearly salary of five thousand thalers. He gave this year, before the university, a course of free, public lectures upon physical geography, sixty nine in all, which afterwards formed the basis of his grandest work, "Cosmos." The first four lectures were a general description of nature; then astronomy, the principal outlines of geology and meteorology, the distribution of plants and animals, the history of the study of our globe, volcanoes, the ocean, the atmosphere, and the human race.

The lectures were crowded and the applause unexampled. A second course, of sixteen lectures, was given to the public in the music hall, the royal family coming with the thousands who gathered each evening.

A grand way to educate the people! Would that at the expense of some philanthropist such a course might be given in every city.

In 1829, at the request of Emperor Nicholas, Humboldt made a scientific expedition to eastern Russia, travelling over nine thousand miles in twenty-five weeks. He was now in his sixtieth year, but he climbed high mountains with no apparent fatigue.

The emperor was delighted with the results of the expedition, which were published in several volumes. He said, "Your sojourn in Russia has been the cause of immense progress to my country; you spread a life-giving influence wherever you go." He presented Humboldt with a sable cloak worth five thousand rubles, and a malachite vase seven feet high, worth nearly forty thousand rubles.

The death of friends saddened this busy year, 1829. William's wife had died, and left him utterly desolate. In his ministry to several countries, she had honored and graced his diplomatic positions. He did not long survive her. "Wholly given up to grief," said Alexander, "he seeks in the depth of his misery the only consolation that can render life supportable, while he occupies himself with intellectual pursuits as with the drudgery of a task."

He died four years later, tenderly watched over by his illustrious brother, to whom he said in dying, "Think of me often, but always with cheerfulness. I have been very happy, and even to-day has been a glorious day with me, for there is nothing more beautiful than love. I shall soon be with _the mother_, and enter upon a higher order of being."

This death was a great blow to Alexander. He said, "I am quite bereft of hope. I did not think that my old eyes could have shed so many tears.... I am the unhappiest of men.... I have lost half of myself." A few months later William's eldest daughter, Caroline, died, to whom Alexander was tenderly attached. From henceforth his life was devoted to his sovereign Frederick William IV., to "Cosmos," and to his ever widening circle of friends. Two thousand letters or more came to him yearly, and till late in life he answered each one, and answered it promptly, showing thereby how truly well bred he was in manner, and how truly kind in heart.

In 1834, when he was sixty-five, he began the publication of "Cosmos," in five volumes, the "most comprehensive compendium of modern science." It was soon translated into English, meeting with a cordial reception in that country, and into French, Dutch, and Italian.

Even at the age of sixty-five, so eager was he to know more that he attended courses of lectures on Grecian antiquities and literature, and upon chemistry, taking notes among the young university students. He now lived with the king, at Sans-Souci, spending every evening with him, and becoming the confidential friend of both king and queen. When Humboldt was ill, the king would read to him by the hour.

Frederick William IV. conferred on him the decoration of the Star of the Red Eagle, the Order of the Black Eagle, the highest honor in the royal power to confer, and the Order of Merit, given to those "who throughout Europe have won for themselves a name either in the arts or sciences."

Till the last years of his life Humboldt showed the same marvellous energy and industry. At eighty he said, "I am more than ever filled with a zest for work and literary distinction." When he wrote to friends for information in finishing "Cosmos," he asked for speedy answers, saying, "The dead ride fast." On the fortieth anniversary of his return to Europe, a fete was given in his honor, by the Berlin Academy. Later his bust was placed in the French Institute. The freedom of the city of Berlin was presented to him. America sent him in 1858, on his eighty-ninth birthday, an album of nine maps, showing the scores of towns, counties, rivers, bays, and mountains which had received his name. Letters came from all parts of the world, breathing love and admiration. Yet, with all this honor, he was often lonely, and spoke of the _ennui_ of life. After the regency, Humboldt lived at Berlin, in an unostentatious home, with his attendant, Seifert.

On May 6, 1859, at half-past two in the afternoon, death came to Alexander von Humboldt, at the age of ninety. His mind was clear to the last.

All ranks gathered at the public funeral, for all, from king to peasant, had lost a friend. With uncovered head, the Prince Regent received the procession at the door of the cathedral, amid the tolling of the bells, and then they buried him at the summer home of his childhood, Tegel, by the side of William.

A new edition of his select works, including "Cosmos," was published in Stuttgart, in 1874, in thirty-six volumes.

Great in learning, great in achievement, great in will-power; unwise sometimes in utterance, as in the Varnhagen letters--how seldom is it safe or wise to express our inmost thoughts;--sarcastic sometimes in his language--a dangerous power, to be used sparingly, if indeed ever,--and yet withal a noble, unselfish, marvellous-minded man, who, as Agassiz says, "exerted upon science a personal influence which is incalculable."

SIR HUMPHREY DAVY.

[Illustration: SIR HUMPHREY DAVY.]

Coleridge said, "Had not Davy been the first chemist, he probably would have been the first poet of his age."

Said Professor Silliman's "American Journal of Science and Arts:" "His reputation is too intimately associated with the eternal laws of nature to suffer decay; and the name of Davy, like those of Archimedes, Galileo, and Newton, which grow greener by time, will descend to the latest posterity."

Davy was poor and self-taught, but he triumphed over obstacles, and died universally lamented.

The eldest son in a family of five children, Humphrey Davy was born at Penzance, Cornwall, England, December 17, 1778, the year in which Carl Linnaeus died. He was a bright, active child, making rhymes when he was five years old, and reciting them at the Christmas gatherings. In consequence of his retentive memory, he could repeat a great part of "Pilgrim's Progress" before he could read it. This book and "AEsop's Fables" were his favorites.

When Humphrey was six, he was sent to a grammar school kept by Rev. Mr. Coryton, a man who had the vicious habit of punishing by pulling the pupils' ears. On one occasion, Humphrey came to school with a large plaster on each ear. Upon being asked what was the matter, he said, with a grave face, that he had "put the plasters on to prevent a mortification!"

As he grew older, he composed Latin and English verses easily, and was in great demand among the boys as a writer of valentines and love-letters. Though shy in manner, with his vivid imagination and flow of language, he told stories remarkably well, and might have been seen, often, in a cart at the Star Inn, addressing a most attentive audience.

Says his brother, Dr. John Davy, "Humphrey, when a boy, was fond of declaiming, and indulged in it in his solitary walks and rambles. On one occasion it is recorded of him, that, on his way to visit a poor patient in the country (during his apprenticeship), in the fever of declamation, he threw out of his hand a vial of medicine which he had to administer, and that when he arrived at the bedside of the poor woman he was surprised at the loss of it. The potion was found the next day in a hay-field adjoining the path."

When Humphrey was fourteen he attended the Truro Grammar School for a year, where he was greatly liked for his good-humor, affectionate disposition, and originality. Says Mr. Nicholls, a school friend, "I can never forget that as boys we knew and loved each other. I recollect a visit he paid in company with his aunt at my father's, who then resided at Lanarth. He was a great favorite; but there was even then an original mode of thinking and acting observable in him,--one instance of which I well remember;--it was on rather a hot day, when my father, mother, your aunt, Humphrey, and myself, were to walk to a place a mile or two distant, I forget for what purpose. Whilst others complained of the heat, and whilst I unbuttoned my waistcoat, Humphrey appeared with his great-coat close-buttoned up to his chin, for the purpose, as he declared, of keeping _out_ the heat. This was laughed at at the time, but it struck me then, as it appears to me now, as evincing originality of thought and an indisposition to be led by the example of others."

At fifteen his school education was considered complete. The next year he studied French, gave a good deal of time to fishing, of which he was always fond, and apparently had little definite purpose. About this time his father died, and the straitened circumstances of the family now seemed to awaken all the energy and nobility of his nature. Seeing his mother in deep affliction, he begged her not to grieve, saying that "_he would do all he could for his brothers and sisters_." And he never forgot this promise.

The following year he was apprenticed to Mr. Bingham Borlase, practising surgeon and apothecary in Penzance. Young Davy now seemed destined to become a physician, but his note-books show that he intended to know other things besides medicine. He laid out a plan for study: theology, logic, astronomy, mathematics, Latin, Greek, Italian, Spanish, and Hebrew.

He said later, "Almost all great deeds arise from a plenitude of hope or desire. No man ever had genius who did not aim to execute more than he was able." And all his life he planned to do twice as much as he was ever able to do. And yet he knew that he must bind himself to a _few_ things, if he would succeed. He said, "In minds of great power, there is usually a disposition to variety of pursuits, and they often attempt all branches of letters and science, and even the imitative arts; but if they become truly eminent, it is by devotion to one object at a time, or at most two objects. This sort of general power is like a profusion of blossoms on a fruit tree, a symptom of health and strength; but if all are suffered to become fruit, all are feeble and bad; if the greater portion is destroyed by accident or art, the remainder, being properly nourished, become healthy, large, and good." In these early note-books, he began to show an unusual and mature mind. He wrote essays: "On the Immortality and the Immateriality of the Soul," "On Governments," "On Moral Obligation," and the like. Of Friendship, he wrote at seventeen: "It is a composition of the noblest passions of the mind; a just taste and love of virtue, good-sense, a thorough candor and benignity of heart, and a generous sympathy of sentiment and affections, are the essential ingredients of this nobler passion. When it originates from love and esteem, is strengthened by habit, and mellowed by time, it yields infinite pleasure, ever new and ever growing. It is the best support amongst the numerous trials and vicissitudes of life, and gives a relish to most of our enjoyments. What can be imagined more comfortable than to have a friend to console us in afflictions, to advise with us in doubtful cases, and share our felicity?... It exalts our nobler passions, and weakens our evil inclinations; it assists us to run the race of virtue with a steady and undeviating course. From loving, esteeming, and endeavoring to felicitate particular people, a more general passion will arise for the whole of mankind."

He finishes this essay with an allegory. God is described as deliberating with the angels on the propriety of creating woman. Justice, Peace, and Virtue plead against her creation, as through her Adam will be driven out of Paradise. Then Divine Love stands before Jehovah, her countenance covered with smiles. "Create her," she says, "for Paradise itself will afford no delight to man without woman. She will be the cause of his misery, but she will likewise be the cause of all his happiness. She will console him in affliction; she will comfort and harmonize his soul; she will wipe the tears from his eyes, and compose the fury of his passions. Her friendship shall make him virtuous, and her love shall make him happy; and, lastly, the tree of their transgression, and the plant of immortality, nourished by the blood of her son, shall flourish, and grow out of Paradise, and overspread the earth: man shall eat of their fruit, and be immortal and happy."

All through these early note-books are scattered his poems, showing a passion for the blue sea at Penzance, and an unbounded love of nature.

Just as he was entering his nineteenth year, young Davy began the study of chemistry, as a branch of his profession. He read "Lavoisier's Elements of Chemistry," and "Nicholson's Dictionary of Chemistry." Suddenly a new world seemed to open before him. He began to think for himself, and to make experiments. As his means were limited, his apparatus consisted of vials, wine-glasses, tea-cups, tobacco-pipes, and earthen crucibles.

His first experiments were the effects of acids and alkalies on vegetable colors, the kind of air in the vesicles of common seaweed, and the solution and precipitation of metals. These were made in his bedroom in Mr. Tonkin's house, or in the kitchen, when he required fire. This old gentleman had brought up his mother and her two orphan sisters, and now was like a father to Humphrey. He said, "This boy, Humphrey, is incorrigible. Was there ever so idle a dog! He will blow us all into the air." He was at this time probably making a detonating composition, which he called "thunder power," his sister Kitty being his assistant.

At this time, a young man came to board at the house of Mrs. Davy, Gregory Watt, the only child of James Watt, the inventor of the steam-engine. He was the idol of his parents; possessed of a mind so unusual in its passionate love for knowledge, and a nature so companionable, that everybody loved him. He was twenty-one, and Humphrey nineteen.

Between these two young men there grew a most ardent and lasting friendship; lasting because it had the only sure foundation, moral and mental worth. They were always together. They visited the neighboring mines and mountains, and came home with their pockets filled with minerals.

The brilliant Gregory died at twenty-eight, but Davy lived to show the fruits of one of the most beautiful things in life, the affinity of two noble and intellectual souls, with similar tastes and aspirations. This death was a great loss to Humphrey. He wrote to a friend: "Poor Watt! He ought not to have died. I could not persuade myself that he would die: and until the very moment when I was assured of his fate, I would not believe he was in any danger.

"His letters to me only three or four months ago were full of spirit, and spoke not of any infirmity of body, but of an increased strength of mind. Why is this in the order of nature, that there is such a difference in the duration and destruction of her works? If the mere stone decays, it is to produce a soil which is capable of nourishing the moss and the lichen; when the moss and the lichen die, and decompose, they produce a mould, which becomes the bed of life to grasses, and to more exalted species of vegetables. Vegetables are the food of animals; the less perfect animals of the more perfect; but in man the faculties and intellect are perfected. He rises, exists for a little while in disease and misery; and then would seem to disappear, without an end, and without producing any effect.

"We are deceived, my dear Clayfield, if we suppose that the human being, who has formed himself for action, but who has been unable to act, is lost in the mass of being; there is some arrangement of things which we can never comprehend, but in which his faculties will be applied.... Gregory was a noble fellow, and would have been a great man. Oh! there was no reason for his dying--he ought not to have died."