The six juvenile lectures given Christmas, 1827, were just what they ought to have been, both in matter and manner; but it would not answer to give an extended course in the same spirit.
Nineteen times did Faraday give the Christmas lectures. Those on the Chemistry of a Candle were given more than once; and were the last he gave, in 1860. They have been published, as were those on the Forces of Nature. The lectures on Metals he was urged to publish, but declined in the following terms:—
Royal Institution, January 3, 1859.
Dear Sir,—Many thanks to both you and Mr. Bentley. Mr. Murray made me an unlimited offer like that of Mr. Bentley’s many years ago, but for the reasons I am about to give you I had to refuse his kindness. He proposed to take them by shorthand, and so save me trouble, but I knew that would be a thorough failure; even if I cared to give time to the revision of the MS., still the lectures without the experiments and the vivacity of speaking would fall far behind those in the lecture-room as to effect. And then I do not desire to give time to them, for money is no temptation to me. In fact, I have always loved science more than money; and because my occupation is almost entirely personal I cannot afford to get rich. Again thanking you and Mr. Bentley, I remain,
Very truly yours,
M. Faraday.
AN INSPIRED CHILD.
Of his lectures Lady Pollock wrote:—
He would play with his subject now and then, but very delicately; his sport was only just enough to enliven the attention. He never suffered an experiment to allure him away from his theme. Every touch of his hand was a true illustration of his argument.... But his meaning was sometimes beyond the conception of those whom he addressed. When, however, he lectured to children he was careful to be perfectly distinct, and never allowed his ideas to outrun their intelligence. He took great delight in talking to them, and easily won their confidence. The vivacity of his manner and of his countenance, and his pleasant laugh, the frankness of his whole bearing, attracted them to him. They felt as if he belonged to them; and indeed he sometimes, in his joyous enthusiasm, appeared like an inspired child.
... His quick sympathies put him so closely in relation with the child that he saw with the boy’s new wonder, and looked, and most likely felt for the moment, as if he had never seen the thing before. Quick feelings, quick movement, quick thought, vividness of expression and of perception, belonged to him. He came across you like a flash of light, and he seemed to leave some of his light with you. His presence was always stimulating.—St. Paul’s Magazine, June, 1870.
A writer in the British Quarterly Review says:—