That he who tends Truth's shrine, and does the hest
Of Science, with a humble, faithful will,
The God of Truth and Knowledge serveth best."
"Wednesday, October 13th, 1813.—This morning formed an epoch in my life."
Thus commences the first entry in that journal, in which, all the while that he was away, Faraday noted down particulars of what he saw and thought. And, indeed, the young traveller's remark is by no means an exaggeration, as we recognise when we consider that he had never been out of sight of the metropolis, that he was accompanying one of the leading chemists, and that he and Davy, Englishmen both, were allowed free passports through France, although this and that country were at the time at war with one another. The fact that Davy was a scientist overshadowed the fact that he was an Englishman in the eyes of the French authorities; as the former, he was permitted to travel anywhere, and to use libraries, museums, etc., at any time; as the latter, he would have been instantly taken prisoner. This was an early and pleasing recognition of the universality of science, of its more than political or national interest, nay, of its international importance.
So minute are the descriptions of things seen, so clear and simple is the language employed, that Faraday's journal is most delightful reading; while the letters written home and to his friends are no less pleasing; perhaps, indeed, they are more so as they are so eminently characteristic of the man. They are remarkable for the unaffected spirit of affection which breathes through them, and show us, as indeed was shown in all ways throughout his life, the keen sensitiveness of his feelings and the genuine earnestness with which he was at all times seeking for self-improvement.
On reaching Plymouth, Faraday gives expression in his diary to the wonder which moved him at seeing the country for the first time. The journey, of course, had to be done by road, as it was long before the time of railways; but coach or carriage riding, during fine autumn weather, through some of the most delightful scenery of rural England, must at any time be preferable to, though less expeditious than, railway travelling; and that Michael felt the full benefit of it is shown by the following passage from the journal:—
"Friday, October 15th.—Reached Plymouth this afternoon. I was more taken by the scenery to-day than by anything else I have ever seen. It came upon me unexpectedly, and caused a kind of revolution in my ideas respecting the nature of the earth's surface. That such a revolution was necessary is, I confess, not much to my credit; and yet I can assign to myself a very satisfactory reason, in the habit of ideas induced by an acquaintance with no other green surface than that within three miles of London. Devonshire, however, presented scenery very different to this; the mountainous nature of the country continually put forward new forms and objects, and the landscape changed before the eye more rapidly than the organ could observe it. This day gave me some idea of the pleasures of travelling, and has raised my expectations of future enjoyment to a very high point."
If the surface of the earth gave our amateur traveller cause for wonder, what must have been his feelings when he first went down to the sea-shore? or when, on the night of October 17th, he was on board in mid-channel, with the "immense waves," as he graphically puts it, "striding one after another at a considerable distance?" or when, again, to use his own words, the vessel "sank down into the valleys between the great waves, and we had nothing in view but the wall of waters around us." He carefully observed, on this occasion, remaining on deck all night for that purpose, the phosphorescence of the sea. The next day they reached the harbour of Morlaix, on the French coast, where, after much examination of luggage, and searching in all possible and impossible places for contraband goods by the French Customs' officers, they took up their lodging for a couple of nights. And on the 22nd, the carriage having been successfully put together (to ensure comfortable accommodation Sir Humphry had brought his own with him), the party commenced their tour, reaching Paris, where a stay of three months' length was made, on the 29th. Faraday's observant nature is made evident to us in every page of his journal, and the light, humorous style in which much of it—that part which admits of such treatment—is written, gives evidence of the abiding cheerfulness of his disposition.
On the road to Paris there was a temporary stoppage, owing to the breaking of one of the horses' traces. While the accident was being repaired by the postillion, Faraday found, to his great delight, a glow-worm, the first that he had seen, and which gave him much food for reflection. So great an impression did the first sight of the luminous little grub make on him, that, writing to his mother six months afterwards, and enumerating some of the more important things he had seen in his travels, he says, "I have seen a GLOW-WORM!"