Moreover, my young imagination was impressed by his sad history and by his interesting appearance, at that time not unlike a figure of Christ; his pale face was illumined by the light in his kindly eyes, which at times looked absolutely inspired. My whole heart went out to him, but I was not yet ripe for matrimony and was somewhat thrown off my balance by the unexpectedness of the event. Fearing that I was not up to his level, I used to try beforehand to find worthy subjects of conversation in order that he should not feel bored in my society, but everything I thought of seemed to me so clumsy and stupid that I rejected one subject after another until he came and found me at a loss. He could not understand how deeply I was troubled, and cannot have been satisfied with my attitude, which really was that of a zealous pupil.
Our marriage took place in February 1875; it was a very cold winter and the ground was covered with a thick coating of glistening snow. A few hours before the ceremony my brothers came with a little hand sledge to fetch me for a last ride. “Come quick,” they said, “this evening you will be a grown-up lady, and you can’t play with us any more!” I agreed, and we rushed out to the snowy carpet which covered the great yard of our house. In the midst of our mad race my mother appeared at the window; she had been looking for me everywhere and was much disturbed. “My dear child! what are you thinking of? It is late, you have hardly time to dress and to do your hair!” “One more turn, mother! It is the last time, think of it!” Other childish emotions awaited me; my wedding-dress was the first long dress I had ever worn, and I feared to stumble as I walked. Then, too, I was frightened at the idea of entering the church under the eyes of all the guests. My little brother tried to reassure me by offering to hold my hand, and my mother made me drink some chocolate to give me courage.
Elie was awaiting us at the entrance; my shyness increased when I heard people whispering around us, “Why, she is a mere child!” The ceremony took place in the evening, after which Elie wrapped me carefully in a long warm cloak and we set off, the sledge gliding like the wind, towards our new home. In spite of the day’s emotions, I rose very early the next morning in order to work at my zoology exercises and to give my husband a pleasant surprise. He was now free to superintend my education, a very difficult and delicate task when having to do with a mind as unprepared for life as mine was.
The scientific methods which Metchnikoff applied to everything might have constituted a grave error at this delicate psychological moment; yet, in many ways, he showed himself a strangely clear-sighted educator. He made it a principle to give me entire liberty whilst directing me through the logic of his arguments. It is with deep gratitude that I realise how he, so superior to me, took care not to stifle my fragile individuality but to respect it and to encourage it to develop. Like all Russian young people of the time, I was very enthusiastic concerning political and social questions that I was not mature enough to understand, and my father forbade us to frequent political circles with which he had no sympathy, fearing that we might be influenced by them. Elie, on the contrary, left me full liberty, though he himself disapproved of my tendencies. He considered that political and social questions belonged to the realm of practical experience, in which young people were lacking, as also in practical preparation. He never prevented me from making myself acquainted with the social movement, but submitted it to close analysis and criticism; it is owing to this very efficacious method that I did not become one of the numerous political victims of that time.
Elie took a lively and warm interest in everything which concerned me. Not having had time to pass my final examinations from the Lycée before my marriage, I was now obliged to go up before a special board for the whole curriculum. He helped me to prepare this, even the catechism, with the utmost keenness and gaiety, enlivening the driest subjects by means of interesting and instructive reading. I was glad to continue my biological studies under his direction after I had passed my examinations. Not only did he give a general interest, a leading thread, to every particular subject, but he also knew how to develop independent work. For instance, he made me compare representative examples of divers groups by practical study in order to let me deduce for myself their characteristics and their generic connections.
And it was not my education only which interested him; he associated me with every detail of his life and initiated me into his thoughts and his work; we read together a great deal, he had an excellent delivery and liked reading aloud.
He thoroughly enjoyed giving me pleasure; we often went to concerts and theatres, and beautiful music or dramatic scenes moved him even to tears. Musical themes haunted him, and he would whistle them softly to himself even at his work. Without caring for luxury, he was glad to contribute to the simple embellishment of our home because he knew I appreciated it. When we travelled, always with scientific research as an object, he never failed to point out every interesting feature that we happened to pass. He had a peculiar talent for making a journey instructive as well as attractive; his eagerness, infectious gaiety, inquisitive mind, and remarkable organising faculty made of him an incomparable guide and companion.
We worked together for many years; it was both delightful and profitable to work with him, for he opened out his ideas unreservedly and made one share his enthusiasm and his interest in investigations; he could create an atmosphere of intimate union in the search for truth which allowed the humblest worker to feel himself a collaborator in an exalted task.
Though I always took a strong interest in scientific questions, Art was the real passion of my life. But, imbued as I was with the narrow, utilitarian views which surrounded my youth, I had looked upon Art as a luxury which should not be indulged in at a time when the poorer classes could not read and write. When at last I became emancipated from this fallacy, my husband did his best to encourage my artistic development though he himself did not appreciate plastic art. Form and colour in themselves or in harmony did not appeal to him; he took much more interest in a subject than in the way it was treated; he liked psychological or realistic work, landscapes, “genre” pictures, but classical, Renaissance, or Impressionist works bored him. In spite of the divergence of our tastes in that connection, he never ceased to encourage me or to take an active interest in my work; often and often he accompanied me to picture galleries, making sincere and somewhat pathetic efforts to appreciate the beauty of great masterpieces.
Next to music he enjoyed Nature most, perhaps because it offered him an inexhaustible source of scientific observation. His wearied nerves caused him to seek for soothing impressions, and calm, quiet ponds were what he preferred, with their reeds and aquatic plants, among which he loved to discover tiny beings, hidden under the leaves and below the surface of the water.