“As to thee, Hector, thou art to me as a father and a revered mother and a brother, and thou art my husband.”—The Iliad.

Metchnikoff’s anthropological researches led him to the study of childhood, which in its turn suggested reflections on questions of Pedagogy. His eyesight was still weak and his hunger for activity very great; in order to satisfy it, he gave lessons in a LycÉe and public lectures in the Odessa University. Though time was passing, Metchnikoff could not get used to his solitude; he spent his active kindness on his friends and all around him, whilst living like an ascetic and giving away all that he could spare. But nothing could quench his thirst for a family life and affectionate intimacy.

My family at that time lived in the same house as he did, on the floor above him; we were eight children, our ages ranging from one to sixteen years. We were noisy neighbours and we incommoded Metchnikoff, who was awakened every morning by the noise in our kitchen, where meat was being minced for the children. One fine day he could stand it no longer and went upstairs to ask if this nuisance could not be stopped; my father promised that he would see that it ceased. We were all seated round the tea-table when he came in, and, seeing a stranger, my sister and I hurriedly collected our lesson books, and hastened to leave the room. We did not even have time to distinguish Metchnikoff’s features, but were struck by his paleness. Shortly after that incident we met him at the house of a mutual friend. He had already seen us from his window as we went off to the LycÉe, and it used to amuse him to see us bravely stepping over a large pool of water which was permanent in the street.

One of his pupils was a professor in our LycÉe, and Elie had the opportunity of informing himself concerning our studies. Having heard that I was interested in natural science, it occurred to him to offer to give me lessons in zoology. I was delighted. He asked and obtained permission from my parents, and we eagerly set to work. Elie, being strongly attracted by me, returned to his former idea of training a girl according to his own ideas and afterwards making her his wife. He might have realised his programme of completing my education first and marrying me afterwards if he had not been prevented by the complete lack of accord between his ideas and those of my father. It was the eternal conflict of two generations, “fathers and children.” My father was an excellent man, of great nobility of character, but he was a type of the old Russian patrician school and belonged to a different epoch, with different opinions and customs. This caused inevitable and frequent disagreements, and Elie decided to ask for my hand without further delay.

My mother was much younger than my father, and her sympathies were all with the young generation. She was an idealist, gentle, intelligent and artistic, and, in her youth, had painted and played the violoncello, but a very early marriage and numerous children had forced her to give up the practice of art, to her lifelong regret. Great sympathy arose between her and Elie; she supported him in everything and became for him a tenderly attached friend. He explained to her his theories on marriage, and then confided to her his feelings towards me. My extreme youth troubled her very much, but Elie endeavoured to reassure her, saying that he fully understood the rashness of his projects, but that he was ready to suffer all the consequences; in fact, he declared, if he did not succeed in making me happy, he would have the strength to help me to create another existence for myself. I had not suspected my Professor’s feelings towards me, and was deeply moved when I was told of them; it seemed to me impossible to understand that this superior, this learned man could wish to marry a little girl like myself! I thought with terror that he must be mistaken about me; I felt as if I were going up for an examination without any previous study. However, I had a great affection and admiration for Elie; I was attracted by his whole personality, which produced a strong impression upon others as well as upon myself. This is how SetchÉnoff describes him, in his own autobiography:

Moreover, my young imagination was impressed by his sad history and by his interesting appearance, at that time not unlike a figure of Christ; his pale face was illumined by the light in his kindly eyes, which at times looked absolutely inspired. My whole heart went out to him, but I was not yet ripe for matrimony and was somewhat thrown off my balance by the unexpectedness of the event. Fearing that I was not up to his level, I used to try beforehand to find worthy subjects of conversation in order that he should not feel bored in my society, but everything I thought of seemed to me so clumsy and stupid that I rejected one subject after another until he came and found me at a loss. He could not understand how deeply I was troubled, and cannot have been satisfied with my attitude, which really was that of a zealous pupil.

Our marriage took place in February 1875; it was a very cold winter and the ground was covered with a thick coating of glistening snow. A few hours before the ceremony my brothers came with a little hand sledge to fetch me for a last ride. “Come quick,” they said, “this evening you will be a grown-up lady, and you can’t play with us any more!” I agreed, and we rushed out to the snowy carpet which covered the great yard of our house. In the midst of our mad race my mother appeared at the window; she had been looking for me everywhere and was much disturbed. “My dear child! what are you thinking of? It is late, you have hardly time to dress and to do your hair!” “One more turn, mother! It is the last time, think of it!” Other childish emotions awaited me; my wedding-dress was the first long dress I had ever worn, and I feared to stumble as I walked. Then, too, I was frightened at the idea of entering the church under the eyes of all the guests. My little brother tried to reassure me by offering to hold my hand, and my mother made me drink some chocolate to give me courage.

Elie was awaiting us at the entrance; my shyness increased when I heard people whispering around us, “Why, she is a mere child!” The ceremony took place in the evening, after which Elie wrapped me carefully in a long warm cloak and we set off, the sledge gliding like the wind, towards our new home. In spite of the day’s emotions, I rose very early the next morning in order to work at my zoology exercises and to give my husband a pleasant surprise. He was now free to superintend my education, a very difficult and delicate task when having to do with a mind as unprepared for life as mine was.

The scientific methods which Metchnikoff applied to everything might have constituted a grave error at this delicate psychological moment; yet, in many ways, he showed himself a strangely clear-sighted educator. He made it a principle to give me entire liberty whilst directing me through the logic of his arguments. It is with deep gratitude that I realise how he, so superior to me, took care not to stifle my fragile individuality but to respect it and to encourage it to develop. Like all Russian young people of the time, I was very enthusiastic concerning political and social questions that I was not mature enough to understand, and my father forbade us to frequent political circles with which he had no sympathy, fearing that we might be influenced by them. Elie, on the contrary, left me full liberty, though he himself disapproved of my tendencies. He considered that political and social questions belonged to the realm of practical experience, in which young people were lacking, as also in practical preparation. He never prevented me from making myself acquainted with the social movement, but submitted it to close analysis and criticism; it is owing to this very efficacious method that I did not become one of the numerous political victims of that time.

Elie took a lively and warm interest in everything which concerned me. Not having had time to pass my final examinations from the LycÉe before my marriage, I was now obliged to go up before a special board for the whole curriculum. He helped me to prepare this, even the catechism, with the utmost keenness and gaiety, enlivening the driest subjects by means of interesting and instructive reading. I was glad to continue my biological studies under his direction after I had passed my examinations. Not only did he give a general interest, a leading thread, to every particular subject, but he also knew how to develop independent work. For instance, he made me compare representative examples of divers groups by practical study in order to let me deduce for myself their characteristics and their generic connections.

And it was not my education only which interested him; he associated me with every detail of his life and initiated me into his thoughts and his work; we read together a great deal, he had an excellent delivery and liked reading aloud.

He thoroughly enjoyed giving me pleasure; we often went to concerts and theatres, and beautiful music or dramatic scenes moved him even to tears. Musical themes haunted him, and he would whistle them softly to himself even at his work. Without caring for luxury, he was glad to contribute to the simple embellishment of our home because he knew I appreciated it. When we travelled, always with scientific research as an object, he never failed to point out every interesting feature that we happened to pass. He had a peculiar talent for making a journey instructive as well as attractive; his eagerness, infectious gaiety, inquisitive mind, and remarkable organising faculty made of him an incomparable guide and companion.

We worked together for many years; it was both delightful and profitable to work with him, for he opened out his ideas unreservedly and made one share his enthusiasm and his interest in investigations; he could create an atmosphere of intimate union in the search for truth which allowed the humblest worker to feel himself a collaborator in an exalted task.

Though I always took a strong interest in scientific questions, Art was the real passion of my life. But, imbued as I was with the narrow, utilitarian views which surrounded my youth, I had looked upon Art as a luxury which should not be indulged in at a time when the poorer classes could not read and write. When at last I became emancipated from this fallacy, my husband did his best to encourage my artistic development though he himself did not appreciate plastic art. Form and colour in themselves or in harmony did not appeal to him; he took much more interest in a subject than in the way it was treated; he liked psychological or realistic work, landscapes, “genre” pictures, but classical, Renaissance, or Impressionist works bored him. In spite of the divergence of our tastes in that connection, he never ceased to encourage me or to take an active interest in my work; often and often he accompanied me to picture galleries, making sincere and somewhat pathetic efforts to appreciate the beauty of great masterpieces.

Next to music he enjoyed Nature most, perhaps because it offered him an inexhaustible source of scientific observation. His wearied nerves caused him to seek for soothing impressions, and calm, quiet ponds were what he preferred, with their reeds and aquatic plants, among which he loved to discover tiny beings, hidden under the leaves and below the surface of the water.

Teaching and public work took up nearly the whole of his time; his leisure was devoted to home life and to an intimate circle of friends with whom he was bound by a common scientific fervour and by a University life. He kept up those friendships even after life had scattered them. His active kindness made him a centre of attraction to his relations and we were always very much surrounded. After his father died, in 1878, his mother and two of her grandchildren came to live with us. She was at that time sixty-four years of age and had the appearance of an old lady; she did not follow the fashion but wore her white hair simply parted and framing her face; alone her fine dark eyes had preserved their youthful sparkle and bore witness to her former beauty. She had a bright and cheerful disposition and a charming kindliness to every one; her desire for activity was unfortunately thwarted by the state of her health.

Elie showed his mother a tender solicitude which manifested itself in the smallest details; for instance, he who detested cards would play Patience with her; or he would drive her round the markets, which interested her like the good housekeeper she was. When he came in from the laboratory he never failed to go to her to ask her for details of her health; he talked to her playfully and affectionately, making her laugh, telling her the incidents of the day. She continued to be interested in everything, especially that which concerned her dear Elie, the “consolation of her life,” as she called him.

In spite of his affection for his mother, he bore her almost sudden death very stoically, knowing as he did that the grave heart disease from which she suffered was bound to cause her increasing pain.

My family became his, and the relations between him and my father became such that the latter, feeling ill and nearing his end, made him our guardian. Until the last my mother preserved for my husband a tender friendship which he fully returned. For years he bore the burden and responsibilities of the family. With my young brothers and sisters he kept up a tone of merry affection; always indulgent with them, he was anxious to neglect nothing that could be useful. Though ever led by the desire to procure happiness around him, it sometimes happened that he made a mistake in his appreciation and failed to reach his goal. The human soul is a riddle, life is complicated, and we ought not always to judge by results but by motives.... As far as I am personally concerned, his affection, kindness, and solicitude have always been unbounded. If during early years a few misunderstandings arose between us, they were due to my youthful obstinacy or to his nervous sensitiveness. We had our trials, but our friendship and deep affection emerged from them stronger and purer than ever. At a certain time, Elie, believing that happiness called me elsewhere, offered me my liberty, urging that I had a moral right to it. The nobility of his attitude was the best safeguard.... As years went on, our lives became more and more united; we lived in deep communion of souls, for we had reached that stage of mutual comprehension when darkness flees and all is light.