You talk of travelling, and I own the word is seducing, but travelling does not secure you from uneasy circumstances. I by no means intend to deter you from it; for though I should like to find you at home when I come home, and though I know how much the loss would be felt by our friends, yet I am aware that the fund of knowledge and of entertainment opened would be almost infinite. But I shall set down a few of my own thoughts and feelings, &c., in the same circumstances. In the first place, then, my dear B., I fancy that when I set my foot in England I shall never take it out again; for I find the prospect so different from what it at first appeared to be, that I am certain, if I could have foreseen the things that have passed, I should never have left London. In the second place, enticing as travelling is—and I appreciate fully its advantages and pleasures—I have several times been more than half decided to return hastily home; but second thoughts have still induced me to try what the future may produce, and now I am only retained by the wish of improvement. I have learned just enough to perceive my ignorance, and, ashamed of my defects in everything, I wish to seize the opportunity of remedying them. The little knowledge I have gained in languages makes me wish to know more of them, and the little I have seen of men and manners is just enough to make me desirous of seeing more; added to which, the glorious opportunity I enjoy of improving in the knowledge of chemistry and the sciences continually determines me to finish this voyage with Sir Humphry Davy. But if I wish to enjoy those advantages, I have to sacrifice much; and though those sacrifices are such as an humble man would not feel, yet I cannot quietly make them. Travelling, too, I find, is almost inconsistent with religion (I mean modern travelling), and I am yet so old-fashioned as to remember strongly (I hope perfectly) my youthful education; and upon the whole, malgré the advantages of travelling, it is not impossible but that you may see me at your door when you expect a letter.
You will perceive, dear B., that I do not wish you hastily to leave your present situation, because I think that a hasty change will only make things worse. You will naturally compare your situation with others you see around you, and by this comparison your own will appear more sad, whilst the others seem brighter than in truth they are; for, like the two poles of a battery, the ideas of each will become exalted by approaching them. But I leave you, dear friend, to act in this case as your judgment may direct, hoping always for the best.
* * * * *
Sir Humphry works often on iodine, and has lately been making experiments on the prismatic spectrum at M. Pictet’s. They are not yet perfected, but from the use of very delicate air thermometers, it appears that the rays producing most heat are certainly out of the spectrum and beyond the red rays. Our time has been employed lately in fishing and shooting; and many a quail has been killed in the plains of Geneva, and many a trout and grayling have been pulled out of the Rhone.
* * * * *
I need not say, dear Ben, how perfectly I am yours,
M. Faraday.
ARISTOCRATIC HAUTEUR.
This letter reveals, what the diary of travel so scrupulously hides, the existence of circumstances which were hardly tolerable in Faraday’s position. To make the reference intelligible it should be remembered that Davy, who had come up to London in 1801 as a raw youth, of immense ability but very uncouth exterior, had developed into a fashionable person, had become the idol of the hour, had married a very wealthy widow, had been knighted, and had given himself up very largely to the pursuits of fashionable society and to the company of the aristocratic beau monde. Lady Davy accompanied Sir Humphry in this Continental tour; and though Faraday had been taken with them as secretary and scientific assistant, it would seem that he had not always been treated with the respect due to one in that position. The above letter evidently disquieted Abbott, for he wrote back to Faraday to inquire more closely into his personal affairs, telling him he was sure he was not happy, and asking him to share his difficulties. Faraday, who was now back in Rome, replied in January in a long letter of twelve pages,[9] which he says he had intended to fill with an account of the waterfalls he had seen, but which gives instead a detailed account of his vexations. He had, he said, written his former letter when in a ruffled state of mind. He now gives the explanation. Before, however, this letter could reach Abbott, the latter had written yet more urgently to know what was the matter. To this Faraday replied on February 23rd. As this shorter letter summarises the previous one it may be given here. Both are printed in Bence Jones’s “Life and Letters”:—
Rome, February 23, 1815.