Take this, moreover, as indicative of his love for Na ture: "After writing, I walk out in the evening hand-in-hand with my dear wife to enjoy the sunset; for to me who love scenery, of all that I have seen or can see there is none surpasses that of heaven. A glorious sunset brings with it a thousand thoughts that delight me." Of the numberless lights thrown upon him by the “Life and Letters,” some fall upon his religion. In a letter to a lady he describes himself as belonging a "a very small and despised sect of Christians, known, if known at all, as Sandemanians, and our hope is founded on the faith that is in Christ." He adds: "I do not think it at all necessary to tie the study of the natural sciences and religion together, and in my intercourse with my fellow-creatures, that which is religious, and that which is philosophical, have ever been two distinct things." He saw clearly the danger of quitting his moorings, and his science became the safeguard of his particular faith. For his investigations so filled his mind as to leave no room for skeptical questionings, thus shielding from the assaults of philosophy the creed of his youth. His religion was constitutional and hereditary. It was implied in the eddies of his blood and in the tremors of his brain; and however its outward and visible form might have changed, Faraday would still have possessed its elemental constituents-awe, reverence, truth, and love. It is worth inquiring how so profoundly religious a mind, and so great a teacher, would be likely to regard our present discussions on the subject of education. Faraday would be a 66 secularist" were he now alive. He had no sympathy with those who contemn knowledge unless it be accompanied by dogma. A lecture delivered before the City Philosophical Society in 1818, when he was twentysix years of age, expresses the views regarding education which he entertained to the end of his life. "First, then," he says, "all theological considerations are banished from the society, and of course from my remarks; and whatever I may say has no reference to a future state, or to the means which are to be adopted in this world in anticipation of it. Next, I have no intention of substituting any thing for religion, but I wish to take that part of human nature which is independent of it. Morality, philosophy, commerce, the various institutions and habits of society, are independent of religion, and may exist either with or without it. They are always the same, and can dwell alike in the breasts of those who from opinion are entirely opposed in the set of principles they include in the term religion, or in those who have none. "To discriminate more closely, if possible, I will observe that we have no right to judge religious opinions, but the human nature of this evening is that part of man which we have a right to judge; and I think it will be found, on examination, that this humanity-as it may perhaps be called-will accord with what I have before described as being in our own hands so improvable and perfectible." I Among my old papers I find the following remarks on one of my earliest dinners with Faraday: "At two o'clock he came down for me. He, his niece, and myself, formed the party. 'I never give dinners,' he said. 'I don't know how to give dinners, and I never dine out. But I should not like my friends to attribute this to a wrong cause. act thus for the sake of securing time for work, and not through religious motives, as some imagine.' He said grace. I am almost ashamed to call his prayer a 'saying' of grace. In the language of Scripture, it might be described as the petition of a son, into whose heart God had sent the Spirit of His Son, and who with absolute trust asked a blessing from his father. We dined on roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and potatoes; drank sherry, talked of research and its requirements, and of his habit of keeping himself free from the distractions of society. He was bright and joyful-boylike, in fact, though he is now sixty-two. His work excites admiration, but contact with him warms and elevates the heart. Here, surely, is a strong man. I love strength, but let me not forget the example of its union with modesty, tenderness, and sweetness, in the character of Faraday." Faraday's progress in discovery, and the salient points of his character, are well brought out by the wise choice of letters and extracts published in these volumes. I will not call the labors of the biographer final. So great a character will challenge reconstruction. In the coming time some sympathetic spirit, with the requisite strength, knowledge, and solvent power, will, I doubt not, render these materials plastic, give them more perfect organic form, and send through them, with less of interruption, the currents of Faraday's life. "He was too good a man," writes his present biographer, "for me to estimate rightly, and too great a philosopher for me to understand thoroughly." That may be, but the reverent affection to which we owe the discovery, selection, and arrangement of the materials here placed before us, is probably a surer guide than mere literary skill. The task of the artist who may wish in future times to reproduce the real though unobtrusive grandeur, the purity, beauty, and childlike simplicity of him whom we have lost, will find his chief treasury already provided for him by Dr. Bence Jones's labor of love. |