"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!"

In Paris Davy stayed some three months, and Faraday records the great disadvantage under which he laboured through not knowing the French language. Despite this, however, he attended lectures with Davy, and accompanied him on visits to the laboratories of the various French chemists of the day, among others to that of Chevreul, who was even then (he was three years older than Faraday) well known as one of the rising chemists of the day.[5] It was well for Davy, and his assistant too, perhaps, that the Paris authorities did not read the entries which the young Englishman "with a round chin, a brown beard, a large mouth, and a great nose,"[6] made in his journal, for he records as follows a visit which he paid to the Galerie NapolÉon:—"It is," he wrote, "both the glory and the disgrace of France. As being itself, and as containing specimens of those things which proclaim the power of man, and which point out the high degree of refinement to which he has risen, it is unsurpassed, unequalled, and must call forth the highest and most unqualified admiration; but when memory brings to mind the manner in which the works came here, and views them only as the gains of violence and rapine, she blushes for the people that even now glory in an act that made them a nation of thieves."[7]

Although he thus discoursed in his journal about what he saw and thought, he did not by any means neglect his favourite science, and his journal during the stay in Paris contains frequent reference to the experiments which Sir Humphry was carrying on with a new substance which had been discovered a short while before by a French chemist—M. Courtois. This substance, now known as iodine, was the source of much interesting research. Not only about the time of its discovery, but during the whole of the century it has afforded scope to chemists for much speculation and useful experiment.

The race-prejudice, which early in the present century affected English opinion of all things French, is to be traced even in Faraday, who, with all his fairness and open-mindedness, seems always congratulating himself on not belonging to the people among whom he finds himself. This insular spirit finds expression in such passages as the following, which he wrote after staying indoors all day with nothing better to do than to note the difference between the rooms in Paris and those he was accustomed to in England. He sums his views up thus:—"French apartments are magnificent, English apartments are comfortable; French apartments are highly ornamented, English apartments are clean; French apartments are to be seen, English apartments enjoyed; and the style of each kind best suits the people of the respective countries."

From Paris the small party—which consisted of Sir Humphry and Lady Davy and Faraday, whose nominal position was that of "assistant in chemistry and experiments"—went south to Montpelier, near the coast of the Mediterranean and some seventy-five miles from Marseilles. After about six weeks' stay they again started on their travels; and after a cold and adventurous journey across the Alps, reached Turin on February 22nd, at the close of the Carnival. From Turin they went to Genoa—where Faraday was much interested in several water-spouts which he saw in the bay—and then on to Florence. Various experiments were made by Davy at each place, on iodine, on the electricity of the torpedo fish, etc.; while at each place Faraday found some opportunity of helping to satisfy his craving for improvement. Of the stay at Florence the journal gives but little account other than of Davy's experiment to find out of what a diamond is composed, and of the various attempts which were made with the assistance of the "Duke's burning glass" to burn diamond. After noting these experiments, Faraday concludes: "As yet it appears that the diamond is pure carbon."

From Rome, which was the next halting-place on their travels, Michael wrote home to his mother a long letter, every line of which breathes a spirit of true affection. "I trust that you are well in health and spirits, and that all things have gone right since I left you.... Mr. Riebau and fifty other friends would be inquired after, could I but have an answer. You must consider this letter as a kind of general one, addressed to that knot of friends who are twined round my heart; and I trust that you will let them all know that, though distant, I do not forget them, and that it is not from want of regard that I do not write to each singly, but from want of convenience and propriety; indeed, it appears to me that there is more danger of my being forgot than of my forgetting. The first and last thing in my mind is England, home, and friends. It is the point to which my thoughts still ultimately tend, and the goal to which, looking over intermediate things, my eyes are still directed. But, on the contrary, in London you are all together, your circle being little or nothing diminished by my absence; the small void which was formed on my departure would soon be worn out, and, pleased and happy with one another, you will seldom think of me. Such are sometimes my thoughts, but such do not rest with me; an innate feeling tells me that I shall not be forgot, and that I still possess the hearts and love of my mother, my brother, my sisters, and my friends.... Whenever a vacant hour occurs I employ it by thinking on those at home. In short, when sick, when cold, when tired, the thoughts of those at home are a warm and refreshing balm to my heart. Let those who think such thoughts useless, vain, and paltry, think so still; I envy them not their more refined and more estranged feelings: let them look about the world, unencumbered by such ties and heartstrings, and let them laugh at those who, guided more by nature, cherish such feelings. For me, I still will cherish them, in opposition to the dictates of modern refinement, as the first and greatest sweetness in the life of man."

It is in his letters such as this that we get to understand Faraday, and to appreciate how it was that his friends, members of his family, nay, even persons who casually met him, were always struck by the simplicity and lovableness of the man. Altogether, Michael got much pleasure, and a great deal of experience, both of life and of science, during his Continental tour, although it was not a source of unmixed delight. His engagement was to accompany Davy in the capacity of secretarial and scientific assistant, but some work certainly not included under that head fell to him owing to Sir Humphry's valet not accompanying the party at the last moment. Had he been with Davy alone this would have been of little matter, for Davy was a kind and considerate man, and would have dispensed with a servant's attendance, and have recognised in Faraday the scientific assistant only; but—unfortunately for Michael—Lady Davy, as has been mentioned, accompanied her husband, and she was not so considerate; and, in consequence, Faraday was treated at times almost as a servant. This, occasionally, was very trying to him; but Michael was too much of a philosopher to give in because circumstances were not as he could wish, and he wrote to his friend Abbott, that though he had to sacrifice much, "the glorious opportunity he enjoyed of improving in the knowledge of chemistry and the sciences continually determined him to finish the voyage with Sir Humphry Davy." A decision of this nature is characteristic of Faraday at all times: he rarely started any work without having carefully considered it; but, having started it, he was not one to take his hand from the plough before the furrow was completed.

This quality is well illustrated in a story which is told of Faraday when he had become a well-known chemist. He was arranging some apparatus with a scientific instrument maker, when a small piece of glass fell to the ground; Faraday made several unsuccessful efforts to pick it up, when his companion said that it was not worth troubling over. "Perhaps not," said Faraday; "but I do not like to fail in accomplishing anything that I have attempted."

The months of May and June were spent by the small party mostly in Italy—first in Rome, then Naples, and afterwards travelling from place to place. At Naples a stay of some days was made, and Faraday's journal gives us an interesting account of two visits to Mount Vesuvius. On the second day the party, largely increased by other visitors, had a picnic on the Mount. "Cloths were laid on the smoking lava, and bread, chickens, turkey, cheese, wine and water, and eggs roasted on the mountain, brought forth, and a species of dinner taken at this place. Torches were now lighted, and the whole had a singular appearance; and the surrounding lazzaroni assisted not a little in adding to the picturesque effect of the scene. After having eaten and drunk, Old England was toasted, and 'God save the king!' and 'Rule, Britannia' sung; and two very entertaining Russian songs by a gentleman, a native of that country, the music of which was peculiar and very touching."

From Naples the journey is continued up north through all the magnificent scenery of Italy; the journal giving us occasionally delightful word-pictures of the landscape, and recording the young traveller's observations on various natural phenomena. Now, as we have seen, glowworms attract his attention, then waterspouts, and the magnificent spectacle presented by Vesuvius; and again his attention is occupied with the beautiful fire-flies that appeared "in innumerable quantities; at a distance they covered the side of the mountain, and near us they passed over the fields, hovered on the edge or crossed the road, often attaching themselves to the harness, and emitting their bright and harmless flashes of light in a rapid and beautiful manner."

In July our party found themselves settled in Geneva, where some three months were passed very enjoyably in congenial society. Davy was the guest of the elder De la Rive, with whom he experimented in chemistry, and with whom, they both being ardent sportsmen, he went out fishing and shooting. "On these occasions," says Professor Tyndall, "Faraday charged Davy's gun, while De la Rive charged his own. Once the Genevese philosopher found himself by the side of Faraday, and in his frank and genial way entered into conversation with the young man. It was evident that a person possessing such a charm of manner and such high intelligence could be no mere servant. On inquiry De la Rive was somewhat shocked to find that the soi-disant domestique was really preparateur in the laboratory of the Royal Institution; and he immediately proposed that Faraday thenceforth should join the masters instead of the servants at their meals. To this Davy, probably out of weak deference to his wife, objected; but an arrangement was come to that Faraday thenceforward should have his food in his own room."

For reasons such as these we can well understand that Faraday's life during his Continental journeying was not altogether as pleasant as he had anticipated it would be. In his letters his reserve on this matter is marvellous, for it is only twice, and in writing to his intimate friend, Abbott, that he refers at all to his, at times, uncomfortable situation, and then it is to give point to what he has been saying in reply to his friend's complaint as to the sordid and unintellectual surroundings amid which he is compelled to live. In his journals also Faraday's reticence with regard to those with whom he travelled is noticeable; he wrote impressions of what he saw, and of what he thought that was worth record, and this was done merely for his own future use and pleasure—he would never wish to recall any petty humiliations which circumstances compelled him to suffer, and they were very properly allowed to pass unrecorded. Indeed, in the note quoted above, particulars of which were given Professor Tyndall by M. De la Rive, we learn more of the discomforts of his post than Faraday himself ever allowed to escape. It is indeed a great pity for his own good fame that Davy should have allowed a "weak deference to his wife" to influence him in such a matter, as it was a great pity when a few years later he allowed a petty spirit of jealousy to make him oppose the election of Faraday as a Fellow of the Royal Society.

From Geneva many letters were written home to his mother and friends. This is characteristic: "Here, dear mother, all goes well. I am in perfect health, and almost contented, except with my ignorance, which becomes more visible to me every day, though I endeavour as much as possible to remedy it." It is strange how different we find the Faraday of the letters and the Faraday of the journal. In the first case the cheerful kindliness, the affectionate, sympathetic side of the man's nature at once strikes us; while in the journal the clear and simple description, uncoloured by personal feeling or prejudice, is no less remarkable.

The three months' stay at Geneva at an end, the small party, bidding farewell to their hospitable and kindly host, De la Rive, turned south again. In De la Rive, Michael, by his intelligence, his scientific enthusiasm, and his unassuming cheerful disposition had won a life-long friend. The route south may well be described briefly in Michael's own words, from a letter to his mother written early in November at Rome: "On leaving Geneva we entered Switzerland, and traversed that mountainous and extraordinary country with health and fine weather, and were much diverted with the curious dresses and customs of the country.... From Switzerland we passed through the States of Baden, on the Lake of Constance (they are very small), across an arm of the kingdom of Wurtemburg, and into Bavaria. In this route we had seen, though slightly, Lausanne, Vevey, Zurich, Schaffhausen and the falls of the Rhine, in Switzerland, and Munich, and many other towns in Germany. On leaving Munich we proceeded to and across the Tyrol, and got to Padua, and from Padua to Venice. You will remember very well, I have no doubt, the picture which hung in the parlour over the fireplace, and which represented the Rialto and the Great Canal of this town. The first I have had the pleasure of crossing several times, and the second I have partly traversed in a Venetian gondola.... After seeing Venice for three days we left it, and came towards Italy, passing Bologna and Florence."

Before reaching Florence the two philosophers went out of their way to inquire into a phenomenon at Pietra Mala which was much talked about. From certain tracts of ground in the neighbourhood sheets of flame of various sizes were said to burst out; the fire was said to burn anything combustible, although the ground where the flames were was not even heated; locally, it was said to be the remains of an ancient volcano. "Though it was raining hard, yet that would not deter Sir Humphry from visiting those places; but, at the same time, it made us wish to be as quick as possible. Sir Humphry therefore went to the first place, and I went to the Acqua bollenti, conducted by a man of the village, who carried some fire, some straw, and some water. I found the place in a cultivated field, not far from a mountain, apparently of limestone. It was simply a puddle perhaps formed by the present showers of rain. Much gas rose from the earth, and passed through the water, which made it appear boiling, and had given rise to its name; but the water and the ground were quite cold. I made another puddle with the water we brought, near the one I found there, and I saw that the gas rose up through it also; and it appeared to be continually passing off from a surface of more than eighteen inches in diameter. The soil appeared deep, and close to the spot supported vegetation readily. The man inflamed some straw, and then laid it on the ground; immediately the gas inflamed, and the flame spread to some distance from the straw over the surface of the earth, waving about like the flame of weak spirits of wine; this flame burnt some moments. On putting a light to the bubbles which rose through the water they inflamed, and sometimes a flame ran quickly from them over the whole surface of the water. I filled a bottle with the gas, but I could not distinguish any smell in it. In pouring water into the bottle, and lighting the jet of gas that came out, a large clear flame was obtained. The whole of this flame was a very pale blue, like spirits of wine. It inflamed paper and matches readily, as might be expected; and when I held a dry bottle or knife over it, they appeared to become dim by condensing water: but this was uncertain, as the weather was so rainy. The water had no taste, and appeared pure rain water. I brought some of it and the gas away, and returned to the village." In the "almost deserted laboratory of the Florence Academy" experiments with the Pietra Mala gas convinced Davy that it was "light hydrocarburet, pure."

The second stay in Rome extended over nearly four months, during which time the grand Carnival took place. Faraday had at this part of his tour a great deal of his time to himself, and earnestly devoted himself to continuing the study of the French and Italian languages, on which indeed he had been working all the while he had been away from home. But he also continued his observations on men and manners, for during the Carnival week he twice attended masked balls in a domino, besides being present at the horse-races on the Corso, and at other of the events of the Carnival. He was, however, anxious to be on his way home to England, and his letters occasionally show how sad he felt at not knowing how soon the return would be.

It was, however, to be earlier than he anticipated. On January 25th, 1815, he wrote to Abbott: "Now for news! We shall part in a few weeks (pray write quickly) for Naples, and from thence proceed immediately to Sicily. Afterwards our road is doubtful; but this much I know, that application is made for passports to travel in the Turkish Empire, and to reside in Constantinople; that it is Sir Humphry's intention to be among the Greek islands in March, and at Athens early in the spring.... Adieu, dear friend. With you I have no ceremony. The warmest wishes that friendship can dictate are formed for you by M. Faraday." Thus had he written towards the end of January—within three months he was to be shaking hands with his friend at home!

While on the road to Naples, Faraday heard of the escape of Napoleon from Elba on March 7th, and records it thus briefly in his journal: "Tuesday, March 7th.—I heard for news that Bonaparte was again at liberty. Being no politician, I did not trouble myself about it, though I suppose it will have a strong influence on the affairs of Europe." It is strange how quietly Davy and his "assistant" passed through Europe at a time when war was convulsing nearly the whole of it; quietly and apparently unconcernedly they went their way, seeing who and what was to be seen at the various stopping-places, prosecuting their researches in different branches of chemistry, and adding in many ways to their stores of knowledge, seemingly unaffected by

"The time that tried men's souls."

At Naples Faraday again ascended Vesuvius, and on this occasion had the grand experience of seeing it in active eruption. He writes a full and graphic account in the journal, from which one passage, descriptive of the eruption itself, may well be quoted. This time Faraday had ascended with a guide only, Sir Humphry having stayed part way up the mountain to see Monte Somma. "I saw a large shower of red-hot stones in the air," writes Faraday, "and felt the strong workings of the mountain; but my care was now to get to the crater, and that was soon done. Here the scene surpassed everything. Before me was the crater, like a deep gulf, appearing bottomless from the smoke that rose from below. On the right hand this smoke ascended in enormous wreaths, rolling above us into all forms; on the left hand the crater was clear, except where the fire burst out from the side with violence, its product rising and increasing the volume of volatile matter already raised in the air. The ground was in continual motion, and the explosions were continual, but at times more powerful shocks and noises occurred; then might be seen rising high in the air numbers of red-hot stones and pieces of lava, which at times came so near as to threaten us with a blow. The appearance of the lava was at once sufficient to satisfy one of its pasty form. It rose in the air in lumps of various size, from 1/2 lb. to 25 lb. or more. The form was irregular, but generally long, like splashes of thick mud; a piece would often split into two or more pieces in the air. They were red-hot, and, when they fell down, continued glowing for five, ten, or fifteen minutes.... I was there during one explosion of very great force, when the ground shook as with a strong earthquake, and the shower of lava and of stones ascended to a very great height, and at this moment the smoke increased much in quantity. The guide now said this place was not safe, from its exposed situation to the melted lava and to the smoke, and because it oftentimes happens that a portion of the edge of the crater is shaken down into the gulf below. We therefore retreated a little, and then sat down, listened, and looked."

We have seen from the letter to Abbott at the end of January that a somewhat lengthened tour had been planned out. On March the 21st Faraday's journal says, "We left Naples at five o'clock." From that time the return was rapid. At Rome there was some delay owing to the lack of post-horses; the French troops under Murat were advancing, and everybody was leaving the city; the Pope had fled, and the cardinals were flying. After a delay of a couple of days carriage-horses were hired at a great expense, and the travellers proceeded on their homeward flight. At Mantua delay again occurred, as the passports had to be "signed, re-signed, and countersigned." "At last," says Faraday, "we saw the outside of the town, having, much against our will, remained two hours and a-half in it."

Faraday's last letter home is written from Brussels on April 16th; it is to his mother, and is well worth reading: "My very dear Mother,—It is with no small pleasure I write you my last letter from a foreign country, and I hope it will be with as much pleasure you will hear I am within three days of England. Nay more, before you read this letter I hope to tread on British ground.... I am not acquainted with the reason of our sudden return; it is, however, sufficient for me that it has taken place. We left Naples very hastily, perhaps because of the motions of the Neapolitan troops, and perhaps for private reasons. We came rapidly to Rome, we as rapidly left it. We ran up Italy, we crossed the Tyrol, we stepped over Germany, we entered Holland, and we are now at Brussels, and talk of leaving it to-morrow for Ostend; at Ostend we embark, and at Deal we land on a spot of earth which I will never leave again. You may be sure we shall not creep from Deal to London, and I am sure I shall not creep to 18, Weymouth Street; and then—but it is of no use. I have a thousand times endeavoured to fancy a meeting with you and my relations and friends, and I am sure I have as often failed: the reality must be a pleasure not to be imagined or described.... You may be sure that my first moment will be in your company. If you have opportunities, tell some of my dearest friends, but do not tell everybody—that is, do not trouble yourself to do it.... My thoughts wander from one to another, my pen runs on by fits and starts; I do not know what to say, and yet cannot put an end to my letter. I would fain be talking to you, but must cease. Adieu till I see you, dearest mother; and believe me ever your affectionate and dutiful son,

"M. Faraday."

"'Tis the shortest and (to me) the sweetest letter I ever wrote you."

Thus ended Faraday's wanderings—

He returned home better equipped for continuing the work of chemical research, for which he had so intense a liking, with his stores of knowledge vastly increased, and his energy and application not one whit abated. How he again took up the thread of his work must be told in another chapter.