Heroes of science

George Léopold Chretien Fréderic Dagobert Cuvier was born at Montbéliard, in the Department du Doubs, a town which was subsequently united to France, although at the time of Cuvier’s birth it belonged to the kingdom of Wurtemberg. He was born on August 23rd, 1769. His family originally came from a village in the Jura mountains, which still bears the name of Cuvier; but, becoming the victims of religious persecution, they were obliged to leave and to go to reside at Montbéliard at the time of the Reformation. Cuvier’s grandfather had two sons, one celebrated for his learning, and the other belonging to a Swiss regiment in the French service. The soldier, after forty years’ service, retired on a small pension to Montbéliard, where he was appointed commandant of the artillery of the town. He was made Chevalier de l’Ordre Merite Militaire, which, among Protestants, was equal to the Catholic order of the Croix de St. Louis. The old soldier married, late in life, a young and highly accomplished lady, by whom he had three sons. The eldest died a short time before the birth of the second, who is the subject of this biography, and who was extremely delicate. The mother, sad at the death of her firstborn, took the curious fancy of calling her little weak second child by the name of George, which was that of her firstborn also. Cuvier was not baptized with that name, although he ever used it in deference to his mother; but in after years, when legal difficulties presented themselves, he took the necessary measures to have a right to use the name. Feeble in constitution, the child required all the attention of his mother, and he never forgot her loving care. She taught him carefully and well during his early years, and the child grew strong and able. He could read fluently at the age of four years, and when the time came for him to be placed at school, the mother went over his exercises at night, and by her good knowledge of Latin enabled him to be better prepared than any other boy in the school, for his daily tasks. She taught him drawing, and this necessary art was subsequently taught Cuvier by an architect in the town. At the age of ten years he was placed at a school of a higher description of teaching, called the Gymnase, where he remained until he was fourteen. Cuvier made rapid progress at this school, and he was constantly at the head of his classes, and he became a fair classic. It was at that time that the future great zoologist began to like natural history, and he began by studying animals. One of his relations had a complete copy of Buffon’s works, and the boy’s study of it was constant. He copied the plates of animals and birds, and coloured them according to the printed descriptions, and when he could not use water-colours, employed pieces of coloured silk to denote the tints of the wings. When he was able to borrow the book, a volume was his constant attendant, and he read the work over and over again. About this time, Cuvier, being the leading spirit in the school, began to collect his schoolfellows and to get them to discuss the merits of books on natural history, philosophy, and travels, etc., taking the chair as president. The assembly must have been amusing in the extreme, and these little “prigs” doubtless expressed their opinions very decidedly. Cuvier managed to teach himself to speak in public, however, and was not a bad hand at declamation. So, on the anniversary fête of the Duke of Wurtemberg, he composed an oration in verse on the prosperous state of the principality, and delivered it, fresh from his pen, in a manly tone which astonished the audience. Nevertheless, Cuvier was snubbed by his master, who put him down to the third place, giving the palm to two other boys. It is said that there was some favouritism in this affair; but it was a blow to the boy, whose future career depended on the place he might take at the school on the occasion. Nevertheless, as things turned out, Cuvier had every reason to be very thankful. The fame of the young student, and his disappointment, reached the ears of Duke Charles by means of the princess, his sister-in-law, and when he visited Montbéliard he saw Cuvier, and asked him questions and looked at his drawings. The duke, satisfied that he had a good subject before him, agreed to send him to Stuttgart to the university, where the youth would be well educated, free of expense, in the duke’s own academy. At this academy the pupils were instructed in every branch of knowledge that was actually useful to men destined to govern and direct the affairs of communities, and many who were educated there, became members of the various courts of Germany and Russia. The school had a military character, the scholars wearing uniforms and being under the orders of a colonel and major; but the education was not military, and such men as Schiller were taught there.

At the age of fourteen Cuvier quitted his home to go to this school, and under circumstances enough to frighten any schoolboy. He travelled with the chamberlain and secretary of the duke, sitting between them without understanding a word they said, as they spoke German the whole time. He always remembered this journey and its miseries. The youth quickly made himself comfortable at the academy, and his really good training soon placed him high amongst his fellows. For four years he studied all that was taught in the higher classes, mathematics, law, administration, tactics, and commerce, and obtaining various prizes, was made, with five or six others out of the four hundred, to belong to a class bearing the order of “Chevalerie.” These youths were under the immediate patronage of the duke, and had privileges besides that of dining at a separate table. Nine months after his arrival at Stuttgart, Cuvier gained the prize in German. But all this time Cuvier led a second life. Out in the fields and in the museum he was supremely happy. Collecting, observing, drawing, and describing were his occupations in his leisure hours, and his drawings of birds, insects, and plants were very excellent and correct. All the books he could get on natural history he read, and the works of Linnæus were especially learned with zeal. At the end of his academical career Cuvier was promised a place in the administration of the country, and if he had got it probably he would have become a kind of civil service clerk, and have never been heard of. But trouble came, and that of the bitterest kind for a rising young man. Circumstances against which he could not bear up necessitated his seeking a totally different kind of employment. The unsettled state of money and finance in France caused Cuvier’s father’s pension to be withheld, and the young man, very properly desiring to be no burthen to his parents, gave up all hopes of political distinction, and accepted the modest position of tutor to a French family, that of M. d’Hericy, at Caen, in Normandy. He was to educate the only son; and so, without bewailing his lot, which was thought a very sad one by his companions and admirers, Cuvier settled down to work and found that he was in the very position for using those remarkable powers as a naturalist, which determined his future career. The sea was close by, and Cuvier began to study the marine animals. After some time some fossils were discovered at Fécamp, and Cuvier began to compare them with the living things which most resembled them. Then the accidental discovery of a calamary led him to study the higher mollusca, or shell-fish. Cuvier also began to study the huge class of vermes, or worms, in which Linnæus had included a vast number of lower animals, and which Lamarck subsequently investigated. Cuvier examined the anatomy of the groups, and arranged them according to their resemblances in structure. This was an excellent piece of work, and it was done for the purposes of self-instruction, and not for fame. Nevertheless, the manuscript was full of good observations and of new truths. Whilst Cuvier was thus employed, and the time was that of the reign of terror, a society was formed at Valmont, in his neighbourhood, for the encouragement of agriculture. L’Abbé Teissier had sought at the place a refuge from the persecutions of the revolutionists of Paris, and under the disguise of a surgeon attended the meetings. On one occasion Cuvier was struck with the manner of speaking of the worthy old man, and thought that it resembled the writings of the well-known Abbé. Inadvertently Cuvier addressed him as L’Abbé, and this gave at first great alarm. He found in Cuvier, however, a great admirer and a generous friend, and was so pleased with his talents and industry, that he afterwards wrote to the celebrated botanist, Jussieu, as follows: “At the sight of this young man, I experienced the delight of the philosopher who was thrown on an unknown shore, and saw traced there the figures of geometry. M. Cuvier is a violet which was concealed among common herbs. He knows much, and draws figures for your work. I doubt your finding a more able person for comparative anatomy, for he demonstrates with much method and clearness. It is a pearl worthy of being gathered by you. I contributed to draw M. Delarbre from his retreat, help me to draw M. Cuvier from his; he is made for science and the world.”

Cuvier was, in consequence, asked to read some of his essays to the Society of Natural History at Paris, and these gave such satisfaction that he was invited to take a position at the Jardin des Plantes. This occurred in 1795, and Cuvier was then twenty-six years of age. He was thus settled for life in the very position he desired, for although called the garden of plants, a grand museum of the comparative anatomy of animals was to rise there under the superintendence of the young man. He was soon made professor at the central school of the Pantheon, and began to write capital manuals of his subject for the students. The next year the National Institute was formed, and Cuvier was one of its first members. At this time his knowledge of zoology was very great, and he had more than the usual amount of information about the internal anatomy of the different great groups of animals. He published an elementary title or scheme of the natural history of animals, and gradually the collection of skeletons began to be great in his establishment. Cuvier paid great attention to the relative shapes, and different developments of the same kind of bones in various animals, and especially to the nature of their teeth. So great did his experience and correct knowledge become, that he rarely failed in naming an animal from part of its skeleton. This power impressed Cuvier with the idea of a philosophy in nature, and with the evidence of creative design and purpose, of means for ends. But this kind of study led to some very remarkable results. Had it influenced Cuvier as it previously had zoologists, he would have still become the most accomplished and important naturalist of this century. It would have been said, as it may well be, that he established the study of animals on a firm basis, and that his natural classification has lasted, because he considered not only the outsides of animals, but also the importance of their most peculiar organs, in arranging them into groups, or separating them from others. But Cuvier had seen and studied the bones and skulls of animals which had been dug out of the earth in a mineralized condition. The strata at Montmartre, near Paris, had yielded a great number of bones, which presented some resemblances to those of animals still living but which were clearly not the bones of any existing genera or species. Comparative anatomy was made to connect the past and present animals, and to indicate the possibility of all the past and present creation being placed in one great classification. As Cuvier progressed in this study, he endeavoured to restore, and with considerable success, the extinct animal’s shape, to discover its habits and method of life, and to find out its nearest modern ally. Palæontology, or the study of extinct animals, is under the greatest obligations to this great Frenchman, and it may be called the zoology of the past ages of the earth. He did not, however, forget his one great desire, which was to form a perfect book on comparative anatomy, and one in which all animals would find a place, called “La Règne Animal.” (The animal kingdom.)

As soon as Cuvier found himself well established as assistant to M. Mertrud, the professor of comparative anatomy to the Jardin des Plantes, he sent for his old father, then eighty years of age, and for his brother, M. F. Cuvier, to live with him. The first thing he did was to collect all the available specimens of bones and preparations of animals, and he found many hidden away in vaults and which had been collected by Daubenton and Buffon. Other specimens were obtained, and thus the great collection was commenced. In 1796, Cuvier discovered the curious fact that there is naturally red blood in leeches, and in the following year he read a famous paper on the nutrition of insects. Refusing to go to Egypt, as he had his proper work to do at home, for his pupils Dumeril and Duvernoy were working hard for and with him, dissecting and describing, the result was the publication of the first volume of the lessons on comparative anatomy already alluded to. This led to Cuvier being made professor of natural history to the College of France. Of the young professor’s ability there could be no doubt, and everybody was struck with the excellent method of his lectures and books. His mind was essentially an orderly and very contemplative and reasoning one, and his fame soon reached the ears of Napoleon, then first consul. He made Cuvier one of the six inspectors general of education who were to found public schools in some thirty towns in France and what are now called Royal Colleges. Cuvier founded those of Bordeaux, Nice, and Marseilles. In this last-mentioned place he continued his work on marine animals. Whilst Cuvier was performing these very important duties for the state, with great benefit to the towns and credit to himself, he was chosen to be one of the perpetual secretaries to the National Institute, and had a salary given to him for it of two hundred guineas a year. Although this sum was to be well earned, and the secretary had to receive distinguished foreigners at table, a fuss was made about it. Cuvier, however, knew his own value, and insisted on retaining it. The labourer is worthy of his hire, and the sum was less than the salary of a first-class clerk. A great Italian politician once said keep the professors poor. Why? Because he knew that the diffusion of liberal knowledge would be fatal to civil and military tyranny. However, Cuvier gave up his school inspectorship and laboured on at his favourite studies. He lost his father and his brother’s wife died leaving a child, so that Cuvier and his brother were alone. Marriage became a necessity for the rising man, and he was attracted by a lady of great merit, who had suffered both poverty and misfortune. Madame Duvancel was the widow of an official who perished on the scaffold in 1794, and she had some children of her own. Cuvier had a great affection for her and she made him happy, was a great companion, and when he rose to his greatness, she was an admirable helpmate. In 1808, as secretary to the National Institute, Cuvier had to write a report on the progress of the natural sciences from the year 1789. A mere report was required, but Cuvier was too thorough, and his essay was an admirable and most lucid treatise. Napoleon, then emperor, was greatly struck with it, and presented the paper to the council of state. Some of the sentences should be written in letters of gold in every senate and learned by heart by all politicians. “The true object of science is to lead the mind of man towards its noble destination—a knowledge of truth—to spread sound and useful ideas among the lowest classes of the people, to draw human beings from the effects of prejudices and passions, to make reason the arbitrator and supreme guide of public opinion.” Napoleon, who nearly always chose the best men for a place, made Cuvier a counsellor of the new Imperial University, and the two men thus came frequently in contact. Repeated personal interviews preceded Cuvier’s appointment to organize new universities in the foreign states more or less under the sway of France. He undertook the reorganization of the old Italian universities of Piedmont, Genoa, and Tuscany. His reports of these missions speak of the enlightenment of his mind and his truly reasonable and very liberal spirit. Speaking of the universities of Tuscany, he deprecates a too hasty and rash interference with institutions which had been founded and maintained by so many distinguished men of old and in which he found so much to praise and to retain. He made good use of his time in Tuscany by taking drawings of and collecting fossil bones, and in 1811 his great work on the fossil remains of animals appeared. He examined into the condition of the universities of Holland, and finally those of lower Germany. These journeys were doubly useful, for they established his health and gave him plenty of opportunity of visiting museums. While at Hamburg, Napoleon gave him the title of chevalier, which was confirmed to him and his heirs. But such honours were not destined to descend, for Cuvier lost his son in his seventh year. It was a great grief, and it saddened and subdued the man. This trial happened when Cuvier was at Rome, trying to arrange the universities there. Being a Protestant, the mission was one requiring peculiar forbearance and firmness. Yet the enlightened tolerance of Cuvier, and his mild and benignant manners, gained for him the esteem and respect of all parties. Risen from the ranks, having been poor and often anxious to know how to learn, Cuvier was a capital man for his position. He paid particular attention not only to the higher branches of education, but also to popular or elementary education. His principle was that instruction would lead to civilization, and civilization to morality, and therefore that primary or elementary instruction should give to the people every means of fully exercising their industry, without disgusting them with their condition. That secondary instruction should expand the mind, without rendering it false or presumptuous; and that special or scientific instruction should give to France magistrates, advocates, generals, clergy, professors and other men of learning. He taught—“give schools before political rights; make citizens comprehend the duties that the state of society imposes on them; teach them what are political rights before you offer them for their enjoyment, and then all amelioration will be made without causing a shock. Imitate nature, which in the development of beings acts by gradation, and gives time to every member to arrive at perfection.”

Napoleon had great confidence in Cuvier, and wished to make him tutor to his son, and ordered him to draw up a list of books as a preliminary step. In 1814 he made him a councillor of state, and Louis XVIII. confirmed him in the appointment subsequently.

Cuvier wrote in early life, on living and fossil elephants, the different species of rhinoceros, the structure of ascidians, and the anatomy of bivalve molluscs. Later on he described the crocodilians of the old and new world and the fossil tapirs of France. Subsequently to 1801 he read memoirs on the teeth of fish, on the worms, the anatomy of the mollusca, the comparative anatomy and classification of fishes, the fossil mammals and reptiles, and the bony structures of these last two groups. Most of these works were the joint productions of other very distinguished men and himself. Thus the work on fishes, which contained descriptions of no less than five thousand kinds, was by Cuvier and Valenciennes. Year after year Cuvier added to the store of knowledge he was so anxious to give to the history of the earth, and his descriptions, monuments of exactitude, of the fossil kinds of rhinoceros, hyænæ, and of some of the great sloths, were the result of his careful examination of the living species of the genera or families which were found fossil. We owe to Cuvier the truth that ancient forms of life, the bones and teeth of which alone remain, and which were buried by nature formerly, can be “restored.” That is to say, by taking the existing or modern example, and by reasoning upon the nature of the teeth, claws, hoofs, and horns present or absent, the nature, shape and destiny of the ancient animal can be given to the world at the present time.

After the abdication of Napoleon and the defeat at Waterloo, it became necessary, in the ideas of Louis XVIII., that the universities should be remodelled, and a committee of public instruction was created to exercise the powers formerly belonging to the grand master, the council, and the treasurer of the University. Cuvier was one of the committee, and was made chancellor of the University, a position which he retained until his death under most trying circumstances. No man did greater or better and more lasting work for state education than Cuvier. His heart was in the work of education; he had nothing but mental progress to desire; and it was a much more satisfactory thing for France to have a renowned, scientific man at the head of a great university, who, moreover, really controlled the education of the country, than to have had such important offices held by mere politicians and soldiers.

In 1817 Cuvier published a second edition of his “Fossil Bones,” and the great book, the “Règne Animal” (the “Animal Kingdom”), was re-issued. In this last work Cuvier immortalized himself; and his classification has been of the greatest possible value to his successors. He reduced the six classes of animals which had been suggested by the ancients and Linnæus, namely, quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, fishes, insects, and worms, to four, or vertebrated animals (animals with backbones), molluscous animals (such as snails and oysters), articulated animals (insects and crabs), and radiated animals (such as corals and sea anemones). Although this classification has become modified, still Cuvier gave the method of true classification in animals. One or two points or peculiarities were not to be considered at the expense of others which belonged to organs of great importance to the animal. He asserted that all the structures of the animal must be studied, and physiology as well as anatomy must be considered. The most important structures must be considered first of all, and the grand divisions of classification must rest upon them. In the “Règne Animal” Cuvier commences with man, whom he places in a genus by himself, and recognizes only one species diversified by varieties or races. In 1818 Cuvier visited London, and remained there for about six weeks, receiving every scientific and social honour. He mixed freely in scientific society, and was received by George IV. On being consulted by his Majesty about our national collections, he said that if all the British private collections could be collected into one, they would form a great national museum which would surpass every other. Cuvier was greatly interested in the freedom of English politics; and on the election for Westminster taking place he went on to the hustings. He was intensely amused at the speeches and the violence of the mob, who pelted their political opponents after the fashion of the day with bad eggs, dead cats, cabbages, and mud. He went to Oxford, and then all the party were invited to Windsor. Sir Joseph Banks asked everybody in the scientific world to meet Cuvier, and Sir Everard Home also. The great naturalist, once a half-starved student and a tutor, became the guest of the most honoured amongst men, and was very sensible of the kindness shown him. He could not, however, reconcile himself to the long dinners and long sittings at table, which were then, as now, fashionable in England. Not only did Cuvier study the national and private natural history collections in this country, but he also paid much attention to the system of education and to the nature of our political constitution.

Returning to Paris, Cuvier was elected a member of the Académie Française, and in the following year was made president of the Comité de l’Interieur, and created a baron. He resigned his temporary grand mastership of the University, so as to accept without salary the grand mastership of the Faculties of Protestant Theology, and vice-president of the Bible Society.

In 1824, as president of the Comité, or one of the councils of state, Cuvier took part in the coronation of Charles X., on which occasion he was made grand master of the Legion of Honour. In 1827 he was appointed censor of the press, an office which his love of liberty of thought soon made him resign. Sacrificing all his leisure to the greater educational matters, and ever labouring at science, Cuvier also formed a great library, which was always open to naturalists who desired to visit and use it. Cuvier’s orderly and critical mind enabled him to fulfil the office of secretary to the institute with great success; and he especially shone in writing the interesting lives of the distinguished men who died during each year. Moreover, he reported on each memoir which was submitted to the institute for reading and publication. Cuvier was great as a public lecturer, and had a flexible and sonorous voice, which resounded far and wide in the room. His audiences were always enthusiastic; and many a student waited long to get a good seat before the professor began. He taught, chalk in hand, and drew well on the black board, his artistic power remaining to the last.

Cuvier came to England a second time, and it is tolerably clear that it was to escape the inevitable revolution which was caused by the tyranny of Charles X. and his advisers. His carriage passed out of Paris, and five hours afterwards firing began, which led to the dethronement of the king and the restoration of liberty. In London Cuvier used to enjoy the political and other caricatures in the shops, and loved to go down to such places as Richmond to see the scenery.

After a six weeks’ visit, Cuvier returned to Paris, and occupied his former positions and dignities.

Cuvier was slightly built in his young days, and moderately tall; but the sedentary nature of his work and his carelessness about taking proper exercise, produced corpulence in his later years, and his extreme near-sightedness brought on a slight stoop in his shoulders. His hair had been light in colour, and to the last it flowed in fine curls over one of the noblest heads ever seen. He was handsome and had regular features, with an aquiline nose, a broad forehead, and keen eyes. The love of order, which was his very peculiarity in his work, was seen in little things, for Cuvier was almost feminine in his attention to dress. He even took in hand the costume of the University, and designed the embroidery of his court suits. Cuvier’s manners were dignified and yet not ceremonious; for accustomed to mingle with the highest of all classes and countries, and naturally desirous of paying a just tribute of respect and good will to everybody, he was likely to be generally polished and courteous. He was stately enough sometimes, and his reserve with strangers who were not open with him was mainly—as is usually the case with others—from mere shyness and timidity. To the young he was always kind and sympathizing. When at the Institute Cuvier’s manner was always stately, for he was with his peers there, and perhaps he might have occasionally felt it necessary to retain an appearance of reserve during the sometimes not very scientific discussions of that mixed assemblage.

Cuvier, notwithstanding his great patience when he was at work, and his singular placidity when on the face of a difficult point in natural history or anatomy, was what is called a “Turk” at home, and with others. Accustomed to most minute exactitude, and to regulate his hands by his rapidly working brain, he was singularly impatient with other people who had to serve under him. He used to hasten his workmen, so that his orders were often performed with difficulty. He was hard to bear with, and any waste of time the result of carelessness, put him in a rage. Anything wrong at table in his house, to be kept waiting, or some trifling disobedience, would rouse an absurd amount of anger. His irritability was excessive, and he frequently forgot himself in his scoldings, and had to make reparation afterwards. But he was always ready to testify that he had been wrong, and to do his best to make amends; nevertheless, he did not improve in this particular, and he never had great control over his feelings. No labour, however minute and prolonged, irritated him when he believed that it was requisite for the attainment of an object; still he could not listen to a few pages of a book which taught nothing, without expressing himself very decidedly. From what has been written of Cuvier’s domestic life, it could not have been very enjoyable by those around him, and yet it was the kind of life which has to be led by most prominent men in science, art, and literature. Work, everlasting work, with but little relaxation. He certainly wasted no time. Before and after breakfast he saw anybody who wished to have an audience of him. By seven in the morning he was dressed, and began preparing his day’s work and that of his assistants, so that by ten o’clock, when he breakfasted, he had time to look at the newspapers, to read correspondence, and look over any particular works. After breakfast he dressed for the day and began work. His carriage was punctual to a moment, and no one was allowed to keep him waiting. When the ladies were to accompany him, they made a point of being as exact to time as was possible; and he seems to have enjoyed the sight of his womankind rushing downstairs with their shawls streaming after them and their gloves half on their hands. The instant he had given his orders he would thrust himself into a corner of the carriage and set to work reading, but suffered the ladies to talk as much as they pleased. The family dinner hour was half-past six; and if Cuvier had a few moments to spare before that time, he would occasionally join his friends in Madame Cuvier’s room, but more frequently he seems to have given even this short time to study. One or two intimate friends joined the circle at dinner, and then Cuvier’s conversation was delightful. On proceeding to the drawing-room Cuvier sometimes gratified his friends by an hour’s stay amongst them before he retired to his occupation or his visits, but so untiring was his industry, that he often set the whole party to work aiding him in his researches. If he had any foreign works he would often amuse his friends by verifying the figures in them, one after the other. It must be said that this everlasting work was trying to people who were with Cuvier, for no sooner did friends come to stay with him than he began to use them in tracing drawings on paper. He kept them at work, for when he returned from his labours he generally asked for the tasks he had thus set. Nevertheless, many found it a real pleasure to work for him, for he was very grateful for such assistance. Cuvier’s hours of relaxation were few. Change of employment afforded him relief, and conversation still greater. At the close of the day’s labour, when he found it impossible to work any longer, he was accustomed to throw himself on a sofa, hide his eyes from the light, and listen to the reading of his wife or daughter, and sometimes of his secretary, M. Laurillard. These nightly readings lasted two hours, and thus Cuvier became more or less acquainted with the current literature and good works of the day. Very likely he did not listen, and went to sleep, but that is not stated of him by those who wrote his domestic habits.

Cuvier was so downright that he did not like any one who indulged in satire, or who ridiculed the conduct of others. He never did this sort of thing, and he carefully discouraged it in those about him, even when embellished with sallies of wit and drollery, and his rebukes to those who indulged in sarcasm were accompanied by a sharpness of expression generally very unusual to him. He bore but little malice, and it is said that the annoyances and disappointments of his public career left no trace of bitterness of spirit; and he was always willing to lay the fault on the ignorance rather than on the bad feeling of the offenders.

When in the full swing of his career, Cuvier gave very interesting soirées on Saturday evenings, and it is said that they were the most brilliant and interesting meetings of their kind in Paris. They were much frequented by the scientific world of the time, and the rooms were as much open to the prince as to the last young student who had just begun to study natural history. In this society Cuvier was an amusing conversationalist, a great asker of questions; and as he could talk well on a variety of subjects, he made his guests at home, and gave the meetings a character for freedom of expression of opinion. A light repast concluded the evening, and a select few remained to partake of it. The chat was amusing, curiosities were shown about, and the last anecdotes about nature and the newest ideas were shown and considered, and, reserving himself to the last, Cuvier would relate something that crowned the whole; and all around were struck by the occasional complete change given to the train of thought, or were forced to join in a general shout of laughter. The period of these brilliant soirées was that of the prime of the lovely daughter who was so fondly loved by Cuvier. A perfect lady, of great grace and goodness, was Clementine Cuvier. She was a highly-gifted girl, and her resemblance to her father was remarkable. She had a delicate constitution, and gradually faded away, dying of rapid consumption at last amidst the joyful preparations for her marriage. A great change then took place in Cuvier, who mourned his daughter greatly. Society was given up for a long time, and when the evening meetings were resumed, the life of them seemed to be gone, and the dejection of Madame Cuvier added to the feeling. After the death of his own daughter, Cuvier became more than ever attached to his step-daughter, and his care and anxiety on her account manifested itself on all occasions. If she were ill he would be up and down stairs over and over again, and worried himself about even the most trivial symptoms. Although so greatly occupied and so often absorbed in scientific pursuits, he never neglected the opportunity of doing good in his way. His private charities were large and well bestowed. His purse was ever open to the needy and unfortunate of all countries and stations, and the miserable inhabitants of the dens of Paris and the modest student struggling under adversity were alike the recipients of his bounty. Many hotels in the neighbourhood of the colleges and institutions had students in them, living in the top stories, who were so poor that they had to subscribe to get a book or two between them. They would occasionally be surprised by a visit from their great teacher. He came to offer, with the greatest courtesy, the assistance he knew they required; and if they were ill he did not rest satisfied until he had obtained advice and nourishment for them. Himself keenly alive to the slightest rudeness or neglect, and grateful for the smallest proof of affection, he knew how to give, not only with a liberal hand, but with a delicacy which never wounded the most sensitive temper. The year 1832 was a melancholy one for Paris; for political disturbances and cholera prevailed. The disease raged around Cuvier’s neighbourhood, and he saw many cut off from it in the midst of their youth and strength. At this time he gave up his evening visits and the few relaxations he permitted himself to enjoy. Secluding himself from society, except that of his own family, he had no sooner performed his daily routine of public duties than he returned to his studies with a zeal and closeness of application that was doubtless injurious to his health, though he himself said that he had never worked with such enjoyment. On Tuesday, May 8th, he opened the third and concluding part of his course of lectures at the College of France on the history of science, and it was his last discourse. Strangely enough, it was as if it were to be his last, so impressive, so grandly comprehensive, was the diction; and he treated the subject in a manner which proved that he had been thinking much about the mysterious and supernatural environment which most men of great experience can recognize in nature. Cuvier in this lecture dealt with the meaning of the changes which had occurred on the surface of the earth in relation to the succession of animals and plants on the globe and the present creation. He stated the manner in which he proposed to view the present in relation to the past, a task which was to lead his hearers, independently of narrow systems, back to that supreme intelligence which rules, enlightens, and vivifies, and which gives to every creature the especial conditions of its existence. He noticed how each being contains in itself an infinite variety, an admirable arrangement for the purposes for which it was intended: that each being is good, perfect, and capable of life, according to its order and species, and in its individuality. He concluded by saying, “These will be the objects of our future investigations, if time, health, and strength are given to me to continue and to finish them with you.” The lecture hall was slowly left by Cuvier’s hearers and students, and an undefined sadness seemed to weigh upon his late hearers, who seemed to linger with the impression that his days were numbered. On the evening of the same day, Cuvier felt some pain in his right arm, which was supposed to proceed from rheumatism. The next morning he presided over the Committee of the Interior with his usual ability and activity; but at dinner that day he felt some difficulty in swallowing, and the numbness in the arm increased. When he felt himself thus ill, in order to take away the attention of Madame Cuvier, he said, “I must eat more soup,” swallowing bread even being impossible. Advice was sought, but during the next day both arms became paralyzed, and the swallowing was worse. He made his will with perfect calmness, and it evinced the tenderest solicitude for those whose cares and affections had comforted his life, and for those who had aided him most in his scientific labours. He could not sign the will, but it was attested by four witnesses. Convinced that all human skill was in vain, he nevertheless submitted to treatment by his medical men. Paralysis crept on, and the legs were attacked, his speech was affected, and he muttered, “It is the nerves of volition that are affected.” He spoke of his last lecture, and said to a friend who called, “Behold a very different person to the man of Tuesday; nevertheless I had great things still to do. All was ready in my head, after thirty years of labour and research; there remained but to write, and now the hands fail and carry with them the head.” Cuvier gradually sank, but kept his intelligence nearly to the last. It was his wish to be buried privately, interred in the cemetery of Père le Chaise, under the tombstone which covered his beloved child; but it was not possible to avoid the public demonstration of respect. The funeral procession was followed by the representatives of all the great learned bodies of France.

Cuvier was too generous, and too desirous for the advancement of his branch of natural history knowledge, to die very rich. He had several important sources of income, and there is no doubt that, had he chosen so to do, he could have saved much money. He spent largely when it was necessary to procure specimens from abroad, and to dig out fossils at home, and his private charities were numerous. He only left about the sum of four thousand pounds sterling, a library worth about the same sum, and a house for his family. There is no doubt that Cuvier was, in his private life, a very estimable man, and that in his public life he upheld the teachings of his conscience to his disadvantage. It was to be expected that a man whose work proved the great antiquity of the kinds of animals now living on the surface of the earth, and the existence of a great philosophy in nature which linked the past and present animals in a scheme which showed that life had been continuous for ages, would be abused and called an atheist by some ignorant people or other. His true character has been written as follows:—“He promoted the cause of true religion by every means in his power, both public and private; he was a warm supporter of the Bible Society, and caused the Old and New Testaments to be widely disseminated in every part of Protestant France. In his letters to the heads of colleges and masters of schools, he strongly recommended them to teach for the love of God, himself pointing out their duties according to that great rule. He adhered consistently and persistently to the Protestant faith, when it was well known that a change to the Roman Catholic would have been the surest step to the attainment of the highest honours in the state. He caused a number of chapels to be established, in order to give facility for attending divine worship; and he never would receive a salary for attending and administering to the interests of the Protestant religion. He discharged faithfully all the duties of his office, with a zeal which showed that he had a much higher motive than that of gain or reputation. Humility and forgiveness marked his character; he was thankful for the correction of errors; he gloried as much in the discoveries of another as his own; and in the triumph of joint labours, unhesitatingly gave the preference to his colleague. He suffered his servants to expostulate with him, and the very nature of his amusements was social and cheerful. He felt ingratitude keenly, and also unkindness and injustice, but they made him sad rather than angry. His antagonists openly indulged in the most irritating and violent taunts, or secretly intrigued against him; the former never excited him beyond a clear, firm, and dignified reply, wrung from him only when reply was absolutely necessary; and the latter nothing but candid remonstrances. To these high attributes we may add charity. The failings of others were never trumpeted forth by Cuvier; he did not even tolerate playful satire, however disguised by wit; his earnest desire was to make all happy around him, even by a sacrifice of his own convenience; and his resignation was great, under calamities which bereaved him of the dearest objects of his affection; all these things appear to establish his character as a Christian.”

The character of Cuvier was hardly equal to this panegyric, for he held his own boldly enough, and faced his enemies with no feeble humility; moreover, the details of his everyday life prove that he was sufficiently exacting, and that everything had to give way to his will. Nevertheless, it is true that that will was to advance knowledge in the right direction, and that it was stimulated by an earnest desire for truth. Men like Cuvier are very apt to be misunderstood by their most intimate friends. When studying the collections of animals, and when comparing the forms of ancient and modern life, Cuvier mentally recognized a divine wisdom and the work of the God he worshipped. That was his worship, and he probably cared all the less for the oratory of the pulpit, which he was expected to listen to. He was not a constant attendant at his church, and this seems even to have afflicted his daughter when on her death-bed, according to some reports. But in all probability she knew her father’s worth and real religion, better than outside friends and detractors, and prayed that he might receive that support which alone could enable him to bear the heaviest of sorrows with resignation.

Judging the man by his fruit and life, it must be admitted that Cuvier was one of the greatest students and teachers of nature that have lived, his work, being true, lasts; moreover, there is no doubt that he had but few failings, and a great amount of wisdom and virtue. Certainly he was a staunch friend to religious education, and if one could have known his heart, it is very possible that his apparent ambition and desire of social greatness and position may have been influenced by the knowledge that influence and dignity would further his work both as an anatomist and zoologist, and as a responsible promoter of education.

The lives of these heroes have been mainly taken from the life of John Ray in the Ray Society’s publications, and from an excellent little book, by an anonymous author, called “Cuvier and Zoology,” and from the “Mémoires de L’Académie des Sciences.”