"That sound judgment which gives men well to know what is best for them, as well as that faculty of invention which leads to development of resources and to the increase of wealth and comfort, are both materially advanced, perhaps cannot rapidly be advanced without, a great taste for pure speculation among the general mass of the people, down to the lowest of those who can read and write. England is a marked example. Many persons will be surprised at this assertion. They imagine that our country is the great instance of the refusal of all unpractical knowledge in favor of what is useful. I affirm, on the contrary, that there is no country in Europe in which there has been so wide a diffusion of speculation, theory, or what other unpractical word the reader pleases. In our country, the scientific society is always formed and maintained by the people; in every other, the scientific academy—most aptly named—has been the creation of the government, of which it has never ceased to be the nursling. In all the parts of England in which manufacturing pursuits have given the artisan some command of time, the cultivation of mathematics and other speculative studies has been, as is well known, a very frequent occupation. In no other country has the weaver at his loom bent over the Principia of Newton; in no other country has the man of weekly wages maintained his own scientific periodical. With us, since the beginning of the last century, scores upon scores—perhaps hundreds, for I am far from knowing all—of annuals have run, some their ten years, some their half-century, some their century and a half, containing questions to be answered, from which many of our examiners in the universities have culled materials for the academical contests. And these questions have always been answered, and in cases without number by the lower order of purchasers, the mechanics, the weavers, and the printers' workmen. I cannot here digress to point out the manner in which the concentration of manufactures, and the general diffusion of education, have affected the
state of things; I speak of the time during which the present system took its rise, and of the circumstances under which many of its most effective promoters were trained. In all this there is nothing which stands out, like the state-nourished academy, with its few great names and brilliant single achievements. This country has differed from all others in the wide diffusion of the disposition to speculate, which disposition has found its place among the ordinary habits of life, moderate in its action, healthy in its amount."
THE OLD MATHEMATICAL SOCIETY.
Among the most remarkable proofs of the diffusion of speculation was the Mathematical Society, which flourished from 1717 to 1845. Its habitat was Spitalfields, and I think most of its existence was passed in Crispin Street. It was originally a plain society, belonging to the studious artisan. The members met for discussion once a week; and I believe I am correct in saying that each man had his pipe, his pot, and his problem. One of their old rules was that, "If any member shall so far forget himself and the respect due to the Society as in the warmth of debate to threaten or offer personal violence to any other member, he shall be liable to immediate expulsion, or to pay such fine as the majority of the members present shall decide." But their great rule, printed large on the back of the title page of their last book of regulations, was "By the constitution of the Society, it is the duty of every member, if he be asked any mathematical or philosophical question by another member, to instruct him in the plainest and easiest manner he is able." We shall presently see that, in old time, the rule had a more homely form.
I have been told that De Moivre[[766]] was a member of this
Society. This I cannot verify: circumstances render it unlikely; even though the French refugees clustered in Spitalfields; many of them were of the Society, which there is some reason to think was founded by them. But Dolland,[[767]] Thomas Simpson,[[768]] Saunderson,[[769]] Crossley,[[770]] and others of known name, were certainly members. The Society gradually declined, and in 1845 was reduced to nineteen members. An arrangement was made by which sixteen of these members, who where not already in the Astronomical Society became Fellows without contribution, all the books and other property of the old Society being transferred to the new one. I was one of the committee which made the preliminary inquiries, and the reason of the decline was soon manifest. The only question which could arise was whether the members of the society of working men—for this repute still continued—were of that class of educated men who could associate with the Fellows of the Astronomical Society on terms agreeable to all parties. We found that the artisan element had been extinct for many years; there was not a man but might, as to education, manners, and position, have become a Fellow in the usual way. The fact was that life in Spitalfields had become harder: and the weaver could
only live from hand to mouth, and not up to the brain. The material of the old Society no longer existed.
In 1798, experimental lectures were given, a small charge for admission being taken at the door: by this hangs a tale—and a song. Many years ago, I found among papers of a deceased friend, who certainly never had anything to do with the Society, and who passed all his life far from London, a song, headed "Song sung by the Mathematical Society in London, at a dinner given Mr. Fletcher,[[771]] a solicitor, who had defended the Society gratis." Mr. Williams,[[772]] the Assistant Secretary of the Astronomical Society, formerly Secretary of the Mathematical Society, remembered that the Society had had a solicitor named Fletcher among the members. Some years elapsed before it struck me that my old friend Benjamin Gompertz,[[773]] who had long been a member, might have some recollection of the matter. The following is an extract of a letter from him (July 9, 1861):
"As to the Mathematical Society, of which I was a member when only 18 years of age, [Mr. G. was born in 1779], having been, contrary to the rules, elected under the age of 21. How I came to be a member of that Society—and continued so until it joined the Astronomical Society, and was then the President—was: I happened to pass a bookseller's small shop, of second-hand books, kept by a poor taylor, but a good mathematician, John Griffiths. I was very pleased to meet a mathematician, and I asked him if he would give me some lessons; and his reply was that I was more capable to teach him, but he belonged to a society of mathematicians, and he would introduce me. I accepted the offer, and I was elected, and had many scholars then to teach, as