To Mr. Murray I am indebted for a copy of Tylor's "Researches on the Early History of Mankind, and the Development of Civilization"—a very remarkable work for extent of research, original views, and happy illustrations. The gradual progress of the prehistoric races of mankind has laid a foundation from which Mr. Tylor proves that after the lapse of ages the barbarous races now existing are decidedly in a state of progress towards civilization. Yet one cannot conceive human beings in a more degraded state than some of them are still; their women are treated worse than their dogs. Sad to say, no savages are more gross than the lowest ranks in England, or treat their wives with more cruelty.
In the course of my life Paris has been twice occupied by foreign troops, and still oftener has it been in a state of anarchy. I regret to see that La Place's house at Arcueil has been broken into, and his manuscripts thrown into the river, from which some one has fortunately rescued that of the "Mécanique Céleste," which is in his own handwriting. It is greatly to the honour of French men of science that during the siege they met as usual in the hall of the Institute, and read their papers as in the time of peace. The celebrated astronomer Janssen even escaped in a balloon, that he might arrive in time to observe the eclipse of the 22nd November, 1870.
We had a most brilliant display of the Aurora on the evening of Sunday, the 4th February, 1871, which lasted several hours. The whole sky from east to west was of the most brilliant flickering white light, from which streamers of red darted up to the zenith. There was also a lunar rainbow. The common people were greatly alarmed, for there had been a prediction that the world was coming to an end, and they thought the bright part of the Aurora was a piece of the moon that had already tumbled down! This Aurora was seen in Turkey and in Egypt.
I am deeply grieved and shaken by the death of Sir John Herschel, who, though ten years younger than I am, has gone before me. In him I have lost a dear and affectionate friend, whose advice was invaluable, and his society a charm. None but those who have lived in his home can imagine the brightness and happiness of his domestic life. He never presumed upon that superiority of intellect or the great discoveries which made him one of the most illustrious men of the age; but conversed cheerfully and even playfully on any subject, though ever ready to give information on any of the various branches of science to which he so largely contributed, and which to him were a source of constant happiness. Few of my early friends now remain—I am nearly left alone.
We went to pass the summer and autumn at Sorrento, where we led a very quiet but happy life. The villa we lived in was at a short distance from and above the town, quite buried in groves of oranges and lemons, beyond which lay the sea, generally calm and blue, sometimes stormy; to our left the islands of Ischia and Procida, the Capo Miseno, with Baia, Pozzuoli, and Posilipo; exactly opposite to us, Naples, then Vesuvius, and all the little towns on that coast, and lastly, to our right, this wonderful panorama was bounded by the fine cliffs of the Monte Santangelo. It was beautiful always, but most beautiful when the sun, setting behind Ischia, sent a perfect glory over the rippling sea, and tinged the Monte Santangelo and the cliffs which bound the Piano di Sorrento literally with purple and gold. I spent the whole day on a charming terrace sheltered from the sun, and there we dined and passed the evening watching the lights of Naples reflected in the water and the revolving lights of the different lighthouses. I often drove to Massa till after sunset, for from that road I could see the island of Capri, and I scarcely know a more lovely drive. Besides the books we took with us we had newspapers, reviews, and other periodicals, so that we were never dull. On one occasion my daughters and I made an expedition up the hills to the Deserto, from whence one can see the Gulf of Salerno and the fine mountains of Calabria. My daughters rode and I was carried in a portantina. It was fine, clear, autumnal weather, and I enjoyed my expedition immensely, nor was I fatigued.