Michael Faraday, Man of Science

by Walter Jerrold

By the commencement of the year 1835 we find Michael Faraday, not yet forty-four years of age, generally acknowledged as one of their peers by the leading men of science, not only in England but also on the Continent. We find him elected member of many of the most important scientific and philosophical societies of this and other countries; we find him honoured by the University of Oxford with the degree of D.C.L.; and, as we shall shortly see, we find the Government proposing to confer a pension on him in consideration of the services which he has already rendered to science. Truly a wonderful change to be wrought in the life of a man who thirty years before was carrying round newspapers as a common errand boy. It is, however, always gratifying to note, and especially pleasing to remember, that however successful he might be, Faraday was never spoiled by the honours that were done him; he was always the same kindly, helpful, simple man that he had been. Those persons who had the great good fortune to visit him at the Royal Institution, either at the time of which we are treating or during his later life, never failed to find a cordial welcome; "a friendly chat in those quiet rooms was one of the greatest pleasures it was possible to enjoy. The frugal simplicity of the furniture was characteristic of Faraday."

The Faradays lived quietly to themselves at the Institution, though they often, after the Friday evening lectures, went round to Berkley Street to tea to Mr. Richard Barlow's house, that gentleman and his wife always being at home to their friends after the Friday evenings. On such occasions as these gatherings, Faraday, we learn, used to be the centre of much interest and delight; for he had, as may be gathered from what has already been said of his character, that happy disposition which placed him at once in sympathy with any person with whom he might be speaking; especially was this rare sympathy his with regard to children, with whom he seemed at once able to place himself on an equal footing; and this it was that made his lectures to young people not only so interesting but so widely popular as they were. This subject, however, deserves fuller consideration, and will be found treated in a later chapter.

Had he chosen to do so at this period of his career, Faraday might have been in receipt of a pretty considerable income. In 1830, indeed, he had undertaken several commercial analyses, and his income from this source alone came to as much as a thousand pounds. Such work interfered with his research, and was therefore unhesitatingly given up, and two years afterwards his professional gains amounted to but little more than a hundred and fifty pounds for the year, and in after years they did not reach even that sum.

Early in 1835 Faraday received an intimation from Sir James South that had Sir Robert Peel remained in office he had intended conferring a pension upon him. Faraday wrote in reply, saying that he could not accept a pension. The matter after this remained in abeyance for a while. During the summer Faraday spent a short holiday in Switzerland, whence he wrote to his old friend Magrath: "The weather has been most delightful, and everything in our favour, so that the scenery has been in the most beautiful condition. Mont Blanc, above all, is wonderful, and I could not but feel at it what I have often felt before, that painting is very far beneath poetry in cases of high expression; of which this is one. No artist should try to paint Mont Blanc; it is utterly out of his reach. He cannot convey an idea of it, and a formal mass or a commonplace model conveys more intelligence, even with respect to the sublimity of the mountain, than his highest efforts can do. In fact, he must be able to dip his brush in light and darkness before he can paint Mont Blanc. Yet the moment one sees it Lord Byron's expressions come to mind, as they seem to apply. The poetry and the subject dignify each other."

In the autumn of the same year, shortly after his return from the Continent, the subject of a pension for Faraday was re-opened. The independence and openness of his character came out in a remarkable manner in this matter. He was asked to wait upon Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister, at the Treasury, which he did on October 26th. However he may have spoken of Faraday personally, Lord Melbourne spoke of literary and scientific men with but scant courtesy, and in effect seemed to consider the awarding them pensions as a piece of State humbug. We have seen how Faraday resented a slur cast upon science in a court of law, and he was no less indignant on this occasion; he returned home and wrote a letter, the tone of which though dignified was very decided. This letter, in which he declined to accept or even further to consider the acceptance of a pension from the Government, Faraday intended to forward at once to Lord Melbourne. He finally, however, allowed somewhat wiser counsels to prevail; his father-in-law, while justly proud of Michael's scientific attainments, was also a shrewd business-like man, and persuaded him to write a letter, which, although it was not one whit less dignified in its tone was less decided in its refusal of the proposed pension.

After many fruitless efforts to make Faraday change his decision, a lady, who was a friend both of the philosopher and of the Prime Minister, asked the former what he would require at the hand of Lord Melbourne to make him change his mind on the subject. "I should require," he replied, "from his lordship what I have no right or reason to expect that he would grant—a written apology for the words he permitted himself to use to me." To Melbourne's credit, be it said, that as soon as he knew of this he apologised amply for, as he expressed it, the "too blunt and inconsiderate manner in which he had expressed himself."

On December 24th of the same year the pension of three hundred pounds a year was awarded to Michael Faraday for his services to the cause of science. A pension, it may here be mentioned, half of which was continued to the Professor's widow, and on her death to his niece, Miss Jane Barnard. He was not yet forty-five, we must recollect, when he was thought to have fairly earned this reward. Early in 1836 further honour was done to him by his being appointed scientific adviser to the Trinity House; in accepting the position he wrote a characteristic letter, of which the following is a portion; it was addressed to Captain Pelly, Deputy-Master: "I consider your letter to me as a great compliment, and should view the appointment at the Trinity House, which you propose, in the same light; but I may not accept even honours without due consideration. In the first place my time is of great value to me, and if the appointment you speak of involved anything like periodical routine attendances I do not think I could accept it. But if it meant that in consultation, in the examination of proposed plans and experiments, in trials, etc., made as my convenience would allow, and with an honest sense of a duty to be performed, then I think it would consist with my present engagements.... In consequence of the goodwill and confidence of all around me, I can at any moment convert my time into money, but I do not require more of the latter than is sufficient for necessary purposes. The sum, therefore, of £200 is quite enough in itself, but not if it is to be the indicator of the character of the appointment. But I think you do not view it so, and that you and I understand each other in that respect; and your letter confirms me in that opinion. The position which I presume you would wish me to hold is analogous to that of a standing counsel. As to the title it might be what you pleased almost. Chemical adviser is too narrow; for you would find me venturing into parts of the philosophy of light not chemical. Scientific adviser (the title afterwards decided upon) you may think too broad—or in me too presumptuous—and so it would be, if by it was understood all science.... The thought occurs to me whether, after all, you want such a person as myself. This you must judge of; but I always entertain a fear of taking an office in which I may be of no use to those who engage me."

This letter is, as I have said, characteristic of the writer; it is characteristic of his sensitiveness to any honour done to him, and of his unworldliness, of his conscientiousness in making sure that he will be able to perform anything that he may undertake, and of a half-diffidence with regard to himself as to whether he was able to do all that was anticipated of him. For nearly thirty years, with credit to himself and to the Brethren of the Trinity House, did Michael Faraday continue as their scientific adviser. Frequently do we find him experimenting on lights and lighting—visiting the various lighthouses round the coast, trying the electric light for them, comparing the various lights, and reporting to the Brethren—such work as this is, as has been said, to be frequently noted in looking over a record of the mass of work which during these years Faraday was doing. It is pleasing to notice here that on her husband's death Mrs. Faraday presented such of his portfolios, of well-ordered and indexed manuscripts, as referred to this part of his work to the Trinity House. So carefully were these notes made and kept that it is possible now to refer quite easily to any particular piece of work on which Faraday was engaged during these thirty years.

In this same year (1836) there appeared the Life of Sir Humphry Davy, by his brother, Dr. John Davy. In this work statements were made with relation to Faraday and his patron which were not true; and painful indeed though it must have been to the former, he felt compelled to deny them. This he did in a long letter to his friend R. Phillips, editor of the Philosophical Magazine, in which periodical the letter was published. "I regret," Faraday wrote, "that Dr. Davy has made that necessary which I did not think before so; but I feel that I cannot, after his observation, indulge my earnest desire to be silent on the matter, without incurring the risk of being charged with something opposed to an honest character. This I dare not risk; but in answering for myself I trust that it will be understood that I have been driven unwillingly into utterance."

The subject must indeed have been a painful one; to have to assert his own right to be the discoverer of certain chemical results which were being credited to Davy. In one or two cases, when he found that he had been preceded in the discovery of anything he was the first to acknowledge that all honour was due to his predecessor, and that strict regard for true honesty in all things very properly would not allow him to be silent now. He concludes his letter to Phillips in these words, "Believing that I have now said enough to preserve my own 'honest fame' from any injury it might have risked from the mistakes of Dr. Davy, I willingly bring this letter to a close, and trust that I shall never again have to address you on the subject."