Lives of the electricians

by William T. Jeans

“This, however, was not always his attitude. He sometimes laid down the law in matters where special study rendered my knowledge more accurate than his, and had in consequence to bear my dissent. Allow me to cite an illustration. In 1866 I accompanied him to Mentone, and by desire of his generous hostess stayed with him two or three days. One evening while returning from a drive the glow of sunset on sea and mountain suggested a question regarding the light. He stated his view with decision, while I unflinchingly demurred. He became dogmatic (‘arrogant’ is a word which can only be applied to Carlyle by those who never felt his influence) and invoked his old teachers, Playfair and Leslie, in support of his view. I was stubborn, and replied that though these were names meriting all honour, they were not authorities regarding the matter in hand. In short, I flatly and firmly opposed him; and it was not for the first time. He lapsed into silence, and we drove home. I went with him to his room. As he drew off his coat he looked at me mildly and earnestly, and pointing to an arm-chair, said in his rich Scotch accent, ‘I did not want to contradict you; sit down there and tell me all about it.’ I sat down, and beginning with the alphabet of the question, carried it as far as my knowledge reached. For more than an hour he listened to me, not only with unruffled patience, but with genuine interest. His questions were always pertinent, and his remarks often profound. I don’t know what Carlyle’s aptitude in the natural history of science might have been, but in regard to physics the contrast between him and Goethe was striking in the highest degree. His opinions had for the most part taken their final set before the theory of man’s descent was enunciated, or rather brought within the domain of true causes, by Mr. Darwin. For a time he abhorred the theory as tending to weaken that ethical element in man which, in Carlyle’s estimation as in that of others, transcends all science in importance. But a softening, if not a material, change of his views was to be noticed later on. To my own knowledge he approved cordially of certain writings in which Mr. Darwin’s views were vigorously advocated, while a personal interview with the great naturalist caused him to say afterwards that Charles Darwin was a most charming man.”

Of Carlyle’s own disposition, Professor Tyndall gives a more generous estimate than the public have been led to form since his death. “Knowing,” he says, “the depth of Carlyle’s tenderness, I should almost feel it to be bathos to cite the cases known to me which illustrated it. I call to mind his behaviour towards some blind singers in the streets of Marseilles, and the interest he took in the history of a little boy, whom, during my momentary separation from him, he had found lying in the shade of a tree, and over whose limbs paralysis was slowly creeping. There was a kind of radiance in the sorrow depicted in the old man’s face, as he listened to the tale and probably looked to woes beyond. The self-same radiance I saw for the last time as he lay upon his sofa, and for some minutes raised his head upon my shoulder a few weeks before his death.”

Professor Tyndall succeeded Faraday not only as Professor of the Royal Institution, but also as Scientific Adviser to the Trinity House, a position which he also regarded as one of honour on account of its associations with his distinguished predecessor. He has stated that, “When, in 1836, Professor Faraday accepted the post of Scientific Adviser to the Trinity House, he was careful to tell the Deputy Master that he did not do so for hire. ‘In consequence,’ he says, ‘of the goodwill and confidence of all around me, I can at any moment convert my time into money.’ In my little book on Faraday, published in 1868, I have stated that he had but to will it to raise his income in 1832 to 5,000l. a year. In 1836 the sum might have been doubled. Yet this son of a blacksmith, this journeyman bookbinder, with his proud and sensitive soul, rejecting the splendid opportunities open to him—refusing even to think them splendid in presence of his higher aims—cheerfully accepted from the Trinity House a pittance of 200l. a year. And when, in 1866, his mind, worn down in the service of his country and of mankind, was no longer able to deal with lighthouse work, I accepted his position, on terms not less independent than his own. I had no need to play the part of a candidate. The late able and energetic Deputy Master of the Trinity House, Sir Frederick Arrow, came to the Royal Institution, where, in courteous and indeed apologetic terms, he asked me to accept the post. I say apologetic, because, inasmuch as it was desired to continue Faraday’s salary to the end of his life, 100l. a year was all that could for the moment be offered to me. I set the mind of the Deputy Master at rest by expressing my willingness, for the sake of my illustrious friend, to do the work for no salary at all. In due time the larger income became mine, and later on, the scope of my duties being extended by the Board of Trade, my salary was raised from 200l. to 400l. a year. With this I was entirely content. Still, the chances open to a man of my reputation in physical science have not diminished since Faraday’s time; on the contrary, they have indefinitely increased. No person of understanding in such matters will doubt me when I say that had I gone in for consultations and experiments on commercial and technical matters, I could with ease have converted every hundred rendered to me by the Trinity House and Board of Trade into a thousand. And if I chose the lesser sum instead of its tenfold multiple, it was because I deemed its source to be one of peculiar honour, and the work it involved a work of peculiar beneficence.”

The Elder Brethren of the Trinity House have control of the lighthouses, lightships, beacons, and buoys around the United Kingdom; and some difference that arose as to a new invention for lighthouse illumination led to the retirement of Professor Tyndall from the position of Scientific Adviser to that body in May, 1883. The incident gave rise to an animated, not to say acrimonious, correspondence in the press, in the course of which the Professor stated that, “the head and front of my offending was my effort to protect from official extinction an able and meritorious man, who had the misfortune to raise a rival at the Trinity House, and to ruffle the dignity of the gentlemen of the Board of Trade. Struggling single-handed, relying solely on his own industry and talents, and with no public funds to fall back upon at pleasure, Mr. John Wigham, to whom I refer, during the brief period of his permitted activity, had made advances in the art of lighthouse illumination which placed him far ahead of all competitors. This man I did my best to protect from the effects of professional jealousy and bureaucratic irritation. It was my earnest desire to utilise Mr. Wigham’s genius for the public good. It was the object of officials whom he had offended to extinguish him. They did what they could to weary him and worry him and take the heart of enterprise out of him, and they certainly succeeded in checking the development of his system of lighthouse illumination. Had it not been for an opposition which, considering the interests at stake, seemed to me at times criminal, that system would assuredly be far more advanced than it now is. His rival was encouraged to push forward, while he was held back. The boldest attempt made against Mr. Wigham was the appropriation of his invention of superposed lenses for the new Eddystone lighthouse. This high-handed proceeding would have provoked litigation, had not the Elder Brethren, reverting to their more generous instincts, lately taken a more reasonable course than that which they were at one time advised to pursue. A compensation of 2,500l. was offered to Mr. Wigham, and eventually accepted by him.”

It thus appears that the independence of mind and chivalrous defence of scientific merit which characterised his early career were displayed with undiminished vigour and self-denial in later years, when the mellowing influences of age and the sunshine of popularity would have induced minds of a more flexible fibre to yield complacently to self-interest and power.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Mr. Alfred Davis, after paying his composition of sixty guineas as a member of the Institution and three annual donations of twenty guineas for the promotion of research, at his death in 1870 bequeathed £2,000 for the same purpose. His deafness prevented him deriving any benefit from the lectures.

PROFESSOR WHEATSTONE.

CHAPTER I.

“Talent may follow and improve; emulation and industry may polish and refine; but genius alone can break those barriers that restrain the throng of mankind in the common track of life.”—Roscoe.