[Illustration: Maria Mitchell]

MARIA MITCHELL

LIFE, LETTERS, AND JOURNALS

Compiled By

PHEBE MITCHELL KENDALL

Illustrated

1896

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

The parents—Home life—Education, teachers, books—Astronomical instruments—Solar eclipse of 1831—Teaching—Appointment as librarian of Nantucket Atheneum—Friendships for young people—Extracts from diary, 1855—Music—The piano—Society—Story-telling—Housework—Extract from diary, 1854

CHAPTER II

"Sweeping" the heavens—Discovery of the comet, 1847—Frederick VI. and the comet—Letters from G. P. Bond and Hon. Edward Everett—Admiral Smyth—American Academy—American Association for the Advancement of Science—Extract from diary, 1855—Dorothea Dix—Esther—Divers extracts from diary, 1853, 1854—Comet of 1854—Computations for comet—Visit to Cape Cod—Sandwich and Plymouth—Pilgrim Hall—Rev. James Freeman Clarke—Accidents in observing

CHAPTER III

Wires in the transit instrument—Deacon Greele—Smithsonian fund—"Doing"—Rachel in "Phèdre" and "Adrienne"—Emerson—The hard winter

CHAPTER IV

Southern tour—Chicago—St. Louis—Scientific Academy of St. Louis—Dr. Pope—Dr. Seyffarth—Mississippi river—Sand-bars—Cherry blossoms—Eclipse of sun—Natchez—New Orleans—Slave market—Negro church—The "peculiar institution"—Bible—Judge Smith—Travelling without escort—Savannah—Rice plantations—Negro children—Miss Murray—Charleston—Drive—Condition of slaves—Old buildings—Miss Rutledge—Mr. Capers—Class meeting—Hospitality—Mrs. Holbrook—Miss Pinckney—Manners—Portraits—Miss Pinckney's father—George Washington—Augusta—Nashville—Mrs. Fogg—Mrs. Polk—Charles Sumner—Mammoth cave—Chattanooga

CHAPTER V

First European tour—Liverpool—London—Rev. James Martineau—Mr. John Taylor—Mr. Lassell—Liverpool observatory—The Hawthornes—Shop-keepers and waiters—Greenwich observatory—Sir George Airy—Visits to Greenwich—Herr Struvé's mission to England—Dinner party—General Sabine—Westminster Abbey—Newton's monument—British museum—Four great men—St. Paul's—Dr. Johnson—Opera—Aylesbury—Admiral Smyth's family—Amateur astronomers—Hartwell house—Dr. Lee

CHAPTER VI

Cambridge—Dr. Whewell—Table conversation—Professor Challis—Professor Adams—Customs—Professor Sedgwick—Caste—King's Chapel—Fellows— Ambleside—Coniston waters—The lakes—Miss Southey—Collingwood—Letter to her father—Herschels—London rout—Professor Stokes—Dr. Arnott—Edinboro'—Observatory—Glasgow observatory—Professor Nichol—Dungeon Ghyll—English language—English and Americans—Boys and beggars

CHAPTER VII

Adams and Leverrier—The discovery of the planet Neptune—Extract from papers—Professor Bond, of Cambridge, Mass.—Paris—Imperial observatory—Mons. and Mme. Leverrier—Reception at Leverrier's—Rooms in observatory—Rome—Impressions—Apartments in Rome and Paris—Customs—Holy week—Vespers at St. Peter's—Women—Frederika Bremer—Paul Akers—Harriet Hosmer—Collegio Romano—Father Secchi—Galileo—Visit to the Roman observatory—Permission from Cardinal Antonelli—Spectroscope

CHAPTER VIII

Mrs. Somerville—Berlin—Humboldt—Mrs. Mitchell's illness and death—Removal to Lynn, Mass.—Telescope presented to Miss Mitchell by Elizabeth Peabody and others—Letters from Admiral Smyth—Colors of stars—Extract from letter to a friend—San Marino medal—Other extracts

CHAPTER IX

Life at Vassar College—Anxious mammas—Faculty meetings—President Hill—Professor Peirce—Burlington, Ia., and solar eclipse—Classes at Vassar—Professor Mitchell and her pupils—Extracts from diary—Aids —Scholarships—Address to her students—Imagination in science—"I am but a woman"—Maria Mitchell endowment fund—Emperor of Brazil—President Raymond's death—Dome parties—Comet, 1881—The apple-tree—"Honor girls"—Mr. Matthew Arnold

CHAPTER X

Second visit to Europe—Russia—Extracts from diary and letters—Custom-house peculiarities—Russian railways—Domes—Russian thermometers and calendars—The drosky and drivers—Observatory at Pulkova—Herr Struvé—Scientific position of Russia—Language— Religion—Democracy of the Church—Government—A Russian family—London, 1873—Frances Power Cobbe—Bookstores in London—Glasgow College for Girls

CHAPTER XI

Papers—Science—Eclipse of 1878, Denver, Colorado—Colors of stars

CHAPTER XII

Religious matters—President Taylor's remarks—Sermons—George MacDonald—Rev. Dr. Peabody—Dr. Lyman Abbott—Professor Henry—Meeting of the American Scientific Association at Saratoga—Professor Peirce— Concord School of Philosophy—Emerson—Miss Peabody—Dr. Harris—Easter flowers—Whittier—Rich days—Cooking schools—Anecdotes

CHAPTER XIII

Letter-writing—Woman suffrage—Membership in various societies.—Women's Congress at Syracuse, N.Y.—Picnic at Medfield, Mass.—Degrees from different colleges—Published papers.—Failure in health—Resigns her position at Vassar College—Letters from various persons—Death—Conclusion

APPENDIX

Introductory note by Hon. Edward Everett

Correspondence relative to the Danish medal

CHAPTER I

1818-1846

BIRTH—PARENTS—HOME SURROUNDINGS AND EARLY LIFE

Maria Mitchell was born on the island of Nantucket, Mass., Aug. 1, 1818.
She was the third child of William and Lydia [Coleman] Mitchell.

Her ancestors, on both sides, were Quakers for many generations; and it was in consequence of the intolerance of the early Puritans that these ancestors had been obliged to flee from the State of Massachusetts, and to settle upon this island, which, at that time, belonged to the State of New York.

For many years the Quakers, or Friends, as they called themselves, formed much the larger part of the inhabitants of Nantucket, and thus were enabled to crystallize, as it were, their own ideas of what family and social life should be; and although in course of time many "world's people" swooped down and helped to swell the number of islanders, they still continued to hold their own methods, and to bring up their children in accordance with their own conceptions of "Divine light."

Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were married during the war of 1812; the former lacking one week of being twenty-one years old, and the latter being a few months over twenty.

The people of Nantucket by their situation endured many hardships during this period; their ships were upon the sea a prey to privateers, and communication with the mainland was exposed to the same danger, so that it was difficult to obtain such necessaries of life as the island could not furnish. There were still to be seen, a few years ago, the marks left on the moors, where fields of corn and potatoes had been planted in that trying time.

So the young couple began their housekeeping in a very simple way. Mr. Mitchell used to describe it as being very delightful; it was noticed that Mrs. Mitchell never expressed herself on the subject,—it was she, probably, who had the planning to do, to make a little money go a great way, and to have everything smooth and serene when her husband came home.

Mrs. Mitchell was a woman of strong character, very dignified, honest almost to an extreme, and perfectly self-controlled where control was necessary. She possessed very strong affections, but her self-control was such that she was undemonstrative.

She kept a close watch over her children, was clearheaded, knew their every fault and every merit, and was an indefatigable worker. It was she who looked out for the education of the children and saw what their capacities were.

Mr. Mitchell was a man of great suavity and gentleness; if left to himself he would never have denied a single request made to him by one of his children. His first impulse was to gratify every desire of their hearts, and if it had not been for the clear head of the mother, who took care that the household should be managed wisely and economically, the results might have been disastrous. The father had wisdom enough to perceive this, and when a child came to him, and in a very pathetic and winning way proffered some request for an unusual indulgence, he generally replied, "Yes, if mother thinks best."

Mr. Mitchell was very fond of bright colors; as they were excluded from the dress of Friends, he indulged himself wherever it was possible. If he were buying books, and there was a variety of binding, he always chose the copies with red covers. Even the wooden framework of the reflecting telescope which he used was painted a brilliant red. He liked a gay carpet on the floor, and the walls of the family sitting-room in the house on Vestal street were covered with paper resplendent with bunches of pink roses. Suspended by a cord from the ceiling in the centre of this room was a glass ball, filled with water, used by Mr. Mitchell in his experiments on polarization of light, flashing its dancing rainbows about the room.

At the back of this house was a little garden, full of gay flowers: so that if the garb of the young Mitchells was rather sombre, the setting was bright and cheerful, and the life in the home was healthy and wide-awake. When the hilarity became excessive the mother would put in her little check, from time to time, and the father would try to look as he ought to, but he evidently enjoyed the whole.

As Mr. Mitchell was kind and indulgent to his children, so he was the sympathetic friend and counsellor of many in trouble who came to him for help or advice. As he took his daily walk to the little farm about a mile out of town, where, for an hour or two he enjoyed being a farmer, the people would come to their doors to speak to him as he passed, and the little children would run up to him to be patted on the head.

He treated animals in the same way. He generally kept a horse. His children complained that although the horse was good when it was bought, yet as Mr. Mitchell never allowed it to be struck with a whip, nor urged to go at other than a very gentle trot, the horse became thoroughly demoralized, and was no more fit to drive than an old cow!

There was everything in the home which could amuse and instruct children. The eldest daughter was very handy at all sorts of entertaining occupations; she had a delicate sense of the artistic, and was quite skilful with her pencil.

The present kindergarten system in its practice is almost identical with the home as it appeared in the first half of this century, among enlightened people. There is hardly any kind of handiwork done in the kindergarten that was not done in the Mitchell family, and in other families of their acquaintance. The girls learned to sew and cook, just as they learned to read,—as a matter of habit rather than of instruction. They learned how to make their own clothes, by making their dolls' clothes,—and the dolls themselves were frequently home-made, the eldest sister painting the faces much more prettily than those obtained at the shops; and there was a great delight in gratifying the fancy, by dressing the dolls, not in Quaker garb, but in all of the most brilliant colors and stylish shapes worn by the ultra-fashionable.

There were always plenty of books, and besides those in the house there was the Atheneum Library, which, although not a free library, was very inexpensive to the shareholders.

There was another very striking difference between that epoch and the present. The children of that day were taught to value a book and to take excellent care of it; as an instance it may be mentioned that one copy of Colburn's "Algebra" was used by eight children in the Mitchell family, one after the other. The eldest daughter's name was written on the inside of the cover; seven more names followed in the order of their ages, as the book descended.

With regard to their reading, the mother examined every book that came into the house. Of course there were not so many books published then as now, and the same books were read over and over. Miss Edgeworth's stories became part of their very lives, and Young's "Night Thoughts," and the poems of Cowper and Bloomfield were conspicuous objects on the bookshelves of most houses in those days. Mr. Mitchell was very apt, while observing the heavens in the evening, to quote from one or the other of these poets, or from the Bible. "An undevout astronomer is mad" was one of his favorite quotations.

Among the poems which Maria learned in her childhood, and which was repeatedly upon her lips all through her life, was, "The spacious firmament on high." In her latter years if she had a sudden fright which threatened to take away her senses she would test her mental condition by repeating that poem; it is needless to say that she always remembered it, and her nerves instantly relapsed into their natural condition.

The lives of Maria Mitchell and her numerous brothers and sisters were passed in simplicity and with an entire absence of anything exciting or abnormal.

The education of their children is enjoined upon the parents by the "Discipline," and in those days at least the parents did not give up all the responsibility in that line to the teachers. In Maria Mitchell's childhood the children of a family sat around the table in the evenings and studied their lessons for the next day,—the parents or the older children assisting the younger if the lessons were too difficult. The children attended school five days in the week,—six hours in the day,—and their only vacation was four weeks in the summer, generally in August.

The idea that children over-studied and injured their health was never promulgated in that family, nor indeed in that community; it seems to be a notion of the present half-century.

Maria's first teacher was a lady for whom she always felt the warmest affection, and in her diary, written in her later years, occurs this allusion to her:

"I count in my life, outside of family relatives, three aids given me on my journey; they are prominent to me: the woman who first made the study-book charming; the man who sent me the first hundred dollars I ever saw, to buy books with; and another noble woman, through whose efforts I became the owner of a telescope; and of these, the first was the greatest."

As a little girl, Maria was not a brilliant scholar; she was shy and slow; but later, under her father's tuition, she developed very rapidly.

After the close of the war of 1812, when business was resumed and the town restored to its normal prosperity, Mr. Mitchell taught school,—at first as master of a public school, and afterwards in a private school of his own. Maria attended both of these schools.

Mr. Mitchell's pupils speak of him as a most inspiring teacher, and he always spoke of his experiences in that capacity as very happy.

When her father gave up teaching, Maria was put under the instruction of Mr. Cyrus Peirce, afterwards principal of the first normal school started in the United States.

Mr. Peirce took a great interest in Maria, especially in developing her taste for mathematical study, for which she early showed a remarkable talent.

The books which she studied at the age of seventeen, as we know by the date of the notes, were Bridge's "Conic Sections," Hutton's "Mathematics," and Bowditch's "Navigator." At that time Prof. Benjamin Peirce had not published his "Explanations of the Navigator and Almanac," so that Maria was obliged to consult many scientific books and reports before she could herself construct the astronomical tables.

Mr. Mitchell, on relinquishing school-teaching, was appointed cashier of the Pacific Bank; but although he gave up teaching, he by no means gave up studying his favorite science, astronomy, and Maria was his willing helper at all times.

Mr. Mitchell from his early youth was an enthusiastic student of astronomy, at a time, too, when very little attention was given to that study in this country. His evenings, when pleasant, were spent in observing the heavens, and to the children, accustomed to seeing such observations going on, the important study in the world seemed to be astronomy. One by one, as they became old enough, they were drafted into the service of counting seconds by the chronometer, during the observations.

Some of them took an interest in the thing itself, and others considered it rather stupid work, but they all drank in so much of this atmosphere, that if any one had asked a little child in this family, "Who was the greatest man that ever lived?" the answer would have come promptly, "Herschel."

Maria very early learned the use of the sextant. The chronometers of all the whale ships were brought to Mr. Mitchell, on their return from a voyage, to be "rated," as it was called. For this purpose he used the sextant, and the observations were made in the little back yard of the Vestal-street home.

There was also a clumsy reflecting telescope made on the Herschelian plan, but of very great simplicity, which was put up on fine nights in the same back yard, when the neighbors used to flock in to look at the moon. Afterwards Mr. Mitchell bought a small Dolland telescope, which thereafter, as long as she lived, his daughter used for "sweeping" purposes.

After their removal to the bank building there were added to these an "altitude and azimuth circle," loaned to Mr. Mitchell by West Point Academy, and two transit instruments. A little observatory for the use of the first was placed on the roof of the bank building, and two small buildings were erected in the yard for the transits. There was also a much larger and finer telescope loaned by the Coast Survey, for which service Mr. Mitchell made observations.

At the time when Maria Mitchell showed a decided taste for the study of astronomy there was no school in the world where she could be taught higher mathematics and astronomy. Harvard College, at that time, had no telescope better than the one which her father was using, and no observatory except the little octagonal projection to the old mansion in Cambridge occupied by the late Dr. A.P. Peabody.

However, every one will admit that no school nor institution is better for a child than the home, with an enthusiastic parent for a teacher.

At the time of the annular eclipse of the sun in 1831 the totality was central at Nantucket. The window was taken out of the parlor on Vestal street, the telescope, the little Dolland, mounted in front of it, and with Maria by his side counting the seconds the father observed the eclipse. Maria was then twelve years old.

At sixteen Miss Mitchell left Mr. Peirce's school as a pupil, but was retained as assistant teacher; she soon relinquished that position and opened a private school on Traders' Lane. This school too she gave up for the position of librarian of the Nantucket Atheneum, which office she held for nearly twenty years.

This library was open only in the afternoon, and on Saturday evening. The visitors were comparatively few in the afternoon, so that Miss Mitchell had ample leisure for study,—an opportunity of which she made the most. Her visitors in the afternoon were elderly men of leisure, who enjoyed talking with so bright a girl on their favorite hobbies. When they talked Miss Mitchell closed her book and took up her knitting, for she was never idle. With some of these visitors the friendship was kept up for years.

It was in this library that she found La Place's "Mécanique Céleste," translated by her father's friend, Dr. Bowditch; she also read the "Theoria Motus," of Gauss, in its original Latin form. In her capacity as librarian Miss Mitchell to a large extent controlled the reading of the young people in the town. Many of them on arriving at mature years have expressed their gratitude for the direction in which their reading was turned by her advice.

Miss Mitchell always had a special friendship for young girls and boys. Many of these intimacies grew out of the acquaintance made at the library,—the young girls made her their confidante and went to her for sympathy and advice. The boys, as they grew up, and went away to sea, perhaps, always remembered her, and made a point, when they returned in their vacations, of coming to tell their experiences to such a sympathetic listener.

"April 18, 1855. A young sailor boy came to see me to-day. It pleases me to have these lads seek me on their return from their first voyage, and tell me how much they have learned about navigation. They always say, with pride, 'I can take a lunar, Miss Mitchell, and work it up!'

"This boy I had known only as a boy, but he has suddenly become a man and seems to be full of intelligence. He will go once more as a sailor, he says, and then try for the position of second mate. He looked as if he had been a good boy and would make a good man.

"He said that he had been ill so much that he had been kept out of temptation; but that the forecastle of a ship was no place for improvement of mind or morals. He said the captain with whom he came home asked him if he knew me, because he had heard of me. I was glad to find that the captain was a man of intelligence and had been kind to the boy."

Miss Mitchell was an inveterate reader. She devoured books on all subjects. If she saw that boys were eagerly reading a certain book she immediately read it; if it were harmless she encouraged them to read it; if otherwise, she had a convenient way of losing the book. In November, when the trustees made their annual examination, the book appeared upon the shelf, but the next day after it was again lost. At this time Nantucket was a thriving, busy town. The whale-fishery was a very profitable business, and the town was one of the wealthiest in the State. There was a good deal of social and literary life. In a Friend's family neither music nor dancing was allowed.

Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell were by no means narrow sectarians, but they believed it to be best to conform to the rules of Friends as laid down in the "Discipline." George Fox himself, the founder of the society, had blown a blast against music, and especially instrumental music in churches. It will be remembered that the Methodists have but recently yielded to the popular demand in this respect, and have especially favored congregational singing.

It is most likely that George Fox had no ear for music himself, and thus entailed upon his followers an obligation from which they are but now freeing themselves.

There was plenty of singing in the Mitchell family, and the parents liked it, especially the father, who, when he sat down in the evening with the children, would say, "Now sing something." But there could be no instruction in singing; the children sang the songs that they picked up from their playmates.

However, one of the daughters bought a piano, and Maria's purse opened to help that cause along. It would not have been proper for Mr. Mitchell to help pay for it, but he took a great interest in it, nevertheless. So indeed did the mother, but she took care not to express herself outwardly.

The piano was kept in a neighboring building not too far off to be heard from the house. Maria had no ear for music herself, but she was always to be depended upon to take the lead in an emergency, so the sisters put their heads together and decided that the piano must be brought into the house. When they had made all the preparations the father and mother were invited to take tea with their married daughter, who lived in another part of the town and had been let into the secret.

The piano was duly removed and placed in an upper room called the "hall," where Mr. Mitchell kept the chronometers, where the family sewing was done, and where the larger part of the books were kept,—a beautiful room, overlooking "the square," and a great gathering-place for all their young friends. When the piano was put in place, the sisters awaited the coming of the parents. Maria stationed herself at the foot of the stairs, ready to meet them as they entered the front door; another, half-way between, was to give the signal to a third, who was seated at the piano. The footsteps were heard at the door, the signal was given; a lively tune was started, and Maria confronted the parents as they entered.

"What's that?" was the exclamation.

"Well," said Maria, soothingly, "we've had the piano brought over."

"Why, of all things!" exclaimed the mother.

The father laid down his hat, walked immediately upstairs, entered the hall, and said, "Come, daughter, play something lively!"

So that was all.

But that was not all for Mr. Mitchell; he had broken the rules accepted by the Friends, and it was necessary for some notice to be taken of it, so a dear old Friend and neighbor came to deal with him. Now, to be "under dealings," as it is called, was a very serious matter,—to be spoken of only under the breath, in a half whisper.

"I hear that thee has a piano in thy house," said the old Friend.

"Yes, my daughters have," was the reply.

"But it is in thy house," pursued the Friend.

"Yes; but my home is my children's home as well as mine," said Mr. Mitchell, "and I propose that they shall not be obliged to go away from home for their pleasures. I don't play on the piano."

It so happened that Mr. Mitchell held the property of the "monthly meeting" in his hands at the time, and it was a very improper thing for the accredited agent of the society to be "under dealings," as Mr. Mitchell gently suggested.

This the Friend had not thought of, and so he said, "Well, William, perhaps we'd better say no more about it."

When the father came home after this interview he could not keep it to himself. If it had been the mother who was interviewed she would have kept it a profound secret,—because she would not have liked to have her children get any fun out of the proceedings of the old Friend. But Mr. Mitchell told the story in his quiet way, the daughters enjoyed it, and declared that the piano was placed upon a firm foothold by this proceeding. The news spread abroad, and several other young Quaker girls eagerly seized the occasion to gratify their musical longings in the same direction. [Footnote: It is pleasant to note that this objection to music among Friends is a thing of the past, and that the Friends' School at Providence, R.I., which is under the control of the "New England Yearly Meeting of Friends," has music in its regular curriculum.]

Few women with scientific tastes had the advantages which surrounded
Miss Mitchell in her own home. Her father was acquainted with the most
prominent scientific men in the country, and in his hospitable home at
Nantucket she met many persons of distinction in literature and science.

She cared but little for general society, and had always to be coaxed to go into company. Later in life, however, she was much more socially inclined, and took pleasure in making and receiving visits. She could neither dance nor sing, but in all amusements which require quickness and a ready wit she was very happy. She was very fond of children, and knew how to amuse them and to take care of them. As she had half a dozen younger brothers and sisters, she had ample opportunity to make herself useful.

She was a capital story-teller, and always had a story on hand to divert a wayward child, or to soothe the little sister who was lying awake, and afraid of the dark. She wrote a great many little stories, printed them with a pen, and bound them in pretty covers. Most of them were destroyed long ago.

Maria took her part in all the household work. She knew how to do everything that has to be done in a large family where but one servant is kept, and she did everything thoroughly. If she swept a room it became clean. She might not rearrange the different articles of furniture in the most artistic manner, but everything would be clean, and there would be nothing left crooked. If a chair was to be placed, it would be parallel to something; she was exceedingly sensitive to a line out of the perpendicular, and could detect the slightest deviation from that rule. She had also a sensitive eye in the matter of color, and felt any lack of harmony in the colors worn by those about her.

Maria was always ready to "bear the brunt," and could at any time be coaxed by the younger children to do the things which they found difficult or disagreeable.

The two youngest children in the family were delicate, and the special care of the youngest sister devolved upon Maria, who knew how to be a good nurse as well as a good playfellow. She was especially careful of a timid child; she herself was timid, and, throughout her life, could never witness a thunder-storm with any calmness.

On one of those occasions so common in an American household, when the one servant suddenly takes her leave, or is summarily dismissed, Miss Mitchell describes her part of the family duties:

"Oct. 21, 1854. This morning I arose at six, having been half asleep only for some hours, fearing that I might not be up in time to get breakfast, a task which I had volunteered to do the preceding evening. It was but half light, and I made a hasty toilet. I made a fire very quickly, prepared the coffee, baked the graham bread, toasted white bread, trimmed the solar lamp, and made another fire in the dining-room before seven o'clock.

"I always thought that servant-girls had an easy time of it, and I still think so. I really found an hour too long for all this, and when I rang the bell at seven for breakfast I had been waiting fifteen minutes for the clock to strike.

"I went to the Atheneum at 9.30, and having decided that I would take the Newark and Cambridge places of the comet, and work them up, I did so, getting to the three equations before I went home to dinner at 12.30. I omitted the corrections of parallax and aberrations, not intending to get more than a rough approximation. I find to my sorrow that they do not agree with those from my own observations. I shall look over them again next week.

"At noon I ran around and did up several errands, dined, and was back again at my post by 1.30. Then I looked over my morning's work,—I can find no mistake. I have worn myself thin trying to find out about this comet, and I know very little now in the matter.

"I saw, in looking over Cooper, elements of a comet of 1825 which resemble what I get out for this, from my own observations, but I cannot rely upon my own.

"I saw also, to-day, in the 'Monthly Notices,' a plan for measuring the light of stars by degrees of illumination,—an idea which had occurred to me long ago, but which I have not practised.

"October 23. Yesterday I was again reminded of the remark which Mrs. Stowe makes about the variety of occupations which an American woman pursues.

"She says it is this, added to the cares and anxieties, which keeps them so much behind the daughters of England in personal beauty.

"And to-day I was amused at reading that one of her party objected to the introduction of waxed floors into American housekeeping, because she could seem to see herself down on her knees doing the waxing.

"But of yesterday. I was up before six, made the fire in the kitchen, and made coffee. Then I set the table in the dining-room, and made the fire there. Toasted bread and trimmed lamps. Rang the breakfast bell at seven. After breakfast, made my bed, and 'put up' the room. Then I came down to the Atheneum and looked over my comet computations till noon. Before dinner I did some tatting, and made seven button-holes for K. I dressed and then dined. Came back again to the Atheneum at 1.30, and looked over another set of computations, which took me until four o'clock. I was pretty tired by that time, and rested by reading 'Cosmos.' Lizzie E. came in, and I gossiped for half an hour. I went home to tea, and that over, I made a loaf of bread. Then I went up to my room and read through (partly writing) two exercises in German, which took me thirty-five minutes.

"It was stormy, and I had no observing to do, so I sat down to my tatting. Lizzie E. came in and I took a new lesson in tatting, so as to make the pearl-edged. I made about half a yard during the evening. At a little after nine I went home with Lizzie, and carried a letter to the post-office. I had kept steadily at work for sixteen hours when I went to bed."

CHAPTER II

1847-1854

MISS MITCHELL'S COMET—EXTRACTS FROM DIARY—THE COMET

Miss Mitchell spent every clear evening on the house-top "sweeping" the heavens.

No matter how many guests there might be in the parlor, Miss Mitchell would slip out, don her regimentals as she called them, and, lantern in hand, mount to the roof.

On the evening of Oct. 1, 1847, there was a party of invited guests at the Mitchell home. As usual, Maria slipped out, ran up to the telescope, and soon returned to the parlor and told her father that she thought she saw a comet. Mr. Mitchell hurried upstairs, stationed himself at the telescope, and as soon as he looked at the object pointed out by his daughter declared it to be a comet. Miss Mitchell, with her usual caution, advised him to say nothing about it until they had observed it long enough to be tolerably sure. But Mr. Mitchell immediately wrote to Professor Bond, at Cambridge, announcing the discovery. On account of stormy weather, the mails did not leave Nantucket until October 3.

Frederick VI., King of Denmark, had offered, Dec. 17, 1831, a gold medal of the value of twenty ducats to the first discoverer of a telescopic comet. The regulations, as revised and amended, were republished, in April, 1840, in the "Astronomische Nachrichten."

When this comet was discovered, the king who had offered the medal was dead. The son, Frederick VII., who had succeeded him, had not the interest in science which belonged to his father, but he was prevailed upon to carry out his father's designs in this particular case.

The same comet had been seen by Father de Vico at Rome, on October 3, at 7.30 P.M., and this fact was immediately communicated by him to Professor Schumacher, at Altona. On the 7th of October, at 9.20 P.M., the comet was observed by Mr. W.R. Dawes, at Kent, England, and on the 11th it was seen by Madame Rümker, the wife of the director of the observatory at Hamburg.

The following letter from the younger Bond will show the cordial relations existing between the observatory at Cambridge and the smaller station at Nantucket:

CAMBRIDGE, Oct. 20, 1847.

DEAR MARIA: There! I think that is a very amiable beginning, considering the way in which I have been treated by you! If you are going to find any more comets, can you not wait till they are announced by the proper authorities? At least, don't kidnap another such as this last was.

If my object were to make you fear and tremble, I should tell you that on the evening of the 30th I was sweeping within a few degrees of your prize. I merely throw out the hint for what it is worth.

It has been very interesting to watch the motion of this comet among the stars with the great refractor; we could almost see it move.

An account of its passage over the star mentioned by your father when he was here, would make an interesting notice for one of the foreign journals, which we would readily forward…. [Here follow Mr. Bond's observations.]

Respectfully,

Your obedient servant,

G. P. BOND.

Hon. Edward Everett, who at that time was president of Harvard College, took a great interest in the matter, and immediately opened a correspondence with the proper authorities, and sent a notice of the discovery to the "Astronomische Nachrichten."

The priority of Miss Mitchell's discovery was immediately admitted throughout Europe.

The King of Denmark very promptly referred the matter to Professor
Schumacher, who reported in favor of granting the medal to Miss
Mitchell, and the medal was duly struck off and forwarded to Mr.
Everett.

Among European astronomers who urged Miss Mitchell's claim was Admiral Smyth, whom she knew through his "Celestial Cycle," and who later, on her visit to England, became a warm personal friend. Madame Rümker, also, sent congratulations.

Mr. Everett announced the receipt of the medal to Miss Mitchell in the following letter:

CAMBRIDGE, March 29, 1849.

MY DEAR MISS MITCHELL: I have the pleasure to inform you that your medal arrived by the last steamer; it reached me by mail, yesterday afternoon.

    I went to Boston this morning, hoping to find you at the Adams
    House, to put it into your own hand.

As your return to Nantucket prevented this, I, of course, retain it, subject to your orders, not liking to take the risk again of its transmission by mail.

Having it in this way in my hand, I have taken the liberty to show it to some friends, such as W.C. Bond, Professor Peirce, the editors of the "Transcript," and the members of my family,—which I hope you will pardon.

I remain, my dear Miss Mitchell, with great regard,

Very faithfully yours,

EDWARD EVERETT.[Footnote: See Appendix.]

In 1848 Miss Mitchell was elected to membership by the "American Academy of Arts and Sciences," unanimously; she was the first and only woman ever admitted. In the diploma the printed word "Fellow" is erased, and the words "Honorary Member" inserted by Dr. Asa Gray, who signed the document as secretary. Some years later, however, her name is found in the list of Fellows of this Academy, also of the American Institute and of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. For many years she attended the annual conventions of this last-mentioned association, in which she took great interest.

The extract below refers to one of these meetings, probably that of 1855:

"August 23. It is really amusing to find one's self lionized in a city where one has visited quietly for years; to see the doors of fashionable mansions open wide to receive you, which never opened before. I suspect that the whole corps of science laughs in its sleeves at the farce.

"The leaders make it pay pretty well. My friend Professor Bache makes the occasions the opportunities for working sundry little wheels, pulleys, and levers; the result of all which is that he gets his enormous appropriations of $400,000 out of Congress, every winter, for the maintenance of the United States Coast Survey.

"For a few days Science reigns supreme,—we are fêted and complimented to the top of our bent, and although complimenters and complimented must feel that it is only a sort of theatrical performance, for a few days and over, one does enjoy acting the part of greatness for a while! I was tired after three days of it, and glad to take the cars and run away.

"The descent into a commoner was rather sudden. I went alone to Boston, and when I reached out my free pass, the conductor read it through and handed it back, saying in a gruff voice, 'It's worth nothing; a dollar and a quarter to Boston.' Think what a downfall! the night before, and

  'One blast upon my bugle horn
  Were worth a hundred men!'

Now one man alone was my dependence, and that man looked very much inclined to put me out of the car for attempting to pass a ticket that in his eyes was valueless. Of course I took it quietly, and paid the money, merely remarking, 'You will pass a hundred persons on this road in a few days on these same tickets.'

"When I look back on the paper read at this meeting by Mr. J—— in his uncouth manner, I think when a man is thoroughly in earnest, how careless he is of mere words!"

In 1849 Miss Mitchell was asked by the late Admiral Davis, who had just taken charge of the American Nautical Almanac, to act as computer for that work,—a proposition to which she gladly assented, and for nineteen years she held that position in addition to her other duties. This, of course, made a very desirable increase to her income, but not necessarily to her expenses. The tables of the planet Venus were assigned to her. In this year, too, she was employed by Professor Bache, of the United States Coast Survey, in the work of an astronomical party at Mount Independence, Maine.

"1853. I was told that Miss Dix wished to see me, and I called upon her. It was dusk, and I did not at once see her; her voice was low, not particularly sweet, but very gentle. She told me that she had heard Professor Henry speak of me, and that Professor Henry was one of her best friends, the truest man she knew. When the lights were brought in I looked at her. She must be past fifty, she is rather small, dresses indifferently, has good features in general, but indifferent eyes. She does not brighten up in countenance in conversing. She is so successful that I suppose there must be a hidden fire somewhere, for heat is a motive power, and her cold manners could never move Legislatures. I saw some outburst of fire when Mrs. Hale's book was spoken of. It seems Mrs. Hale wrote to her for permission to publish a notice of her, and was decidedly refused; another letter met with the same answer, yet she wrote a 'Life' which Miss Dix says is utterly false.

"In her general sympathy for suffering humanity, Miss Dix seems neglectful of the individual interest. She has no family connection but a brother, has never had sisters, and she seemed to take little interest in the persons whom she met. I was surprised at her feeling any desire to see me. She is not strikingly interesting in conversation, because she is so grave, so cold, and so quiet. I asked her if she did not become at times weary and discouraged; and she said, wearied, but not discouraged, for she had met with nothing but success. There is evidently a strong will which carries all before it, not like the sweep of the hurricane, but like the slow, steady, and powerful march of the molten lava.

"It is sad to see a woman sacrificing the ties of the affections even to do good. I have no doubt Miss Dix does much good, but a woman needs a home and the love of other women at least, if she lives without that of man."

The following entry was made many years after:—

"August, 1871. I have just seen Miss Dix again, having met her only once for a few minutes in all the eighteen years. She listened to a story of mine about some girls in need, and then astonished me by an offer she made me."

"Feb. 15, 1853. I think Dr. Hall [in his 'Life of Mary Ware'] does wrong when he attempts to encourage the use of the needle. It seems to me that the needle is the chain of woman, and has fettered her more than the laws of the country.

"Once emancipate her from the 'stitch, stitch, stitch," the industry of which would be commendable if it served any purpose except the gratification of her vanity, and she would have time for studies which would engross as the needle never can. I would as soon put a girl alone into a closet to meditate as give her only the society of her needle. The art of sewing, so far as men learn it, is well enough; that is, to enable a person to take the stitches, and, if necessary, to make her own garments in a strong manner; but the dressmaker should no more be a universal character than the carpenter. Suppose every man should feel it is his duty to do his own mechanical work of all kinds, would society be benefited? would the work be well done? Yet a woman is expected to know how to do all kinds of sewing, all kinds of cooking, all kinds of any woman's work, and the consequence is that life is passed in learning these only, while the universe of truth beyond remains unentered.

"May 11, 1853. I could not help thinking of Esther [a much-loved cousin who had recently died] a few evenings since when I was observing. A meteor flashed upon me suddenly, very bright, very short-lived; it seemed to me that it was sent for me especially, for it greeted me almost the first instant I looked up, and was gone in a second,—it was as fleeting and as beautiful as the smile upon Esther's face the last time I saw her. I thought when I talked with her about death that, though she could not come to me visibly, she might be able to influence my feelings; but it cannot be, for my faith has been weaker than ever since she died, and my fears have been greater."

A few pages farther on in the diary appears this poem:

"ESTHER

  "Living, the hearts of all around
    Sought hers as slaves a throne;
  Dying, the reason first we found—
    The fulness of her own.

  "She gave unconsciously the while
    A wealth we all might share—
  To me the memory of the smile
    That last I saw her wear.

  "Earth lost from out its meagre store
    A bright and precious stone;
  Heaven could not be so rich before,
    But it has richer grown."

"Sept. 19, 1853. I am surprised to find the verse which I picked up somewhere and have always admired—

  "'Oh, reader, had you in your mind
  Such stores as silent thought can bring,
  Oh, gentle reader, you would find
  A tale in everything'—

belonging to Wordsworth and to one of Wordsworth's simple, I am almost ready to say silly, poems. I am in doubt what to think of Wordsworth. I should be ashamed of some of his poems if I had written them myself, and yet there are points of great beauty, and lines which once in the mind will not leave it.

"Oct. 31, 1853. People have to learn sometimes not only how much the heart, but how much the head, can bear. My letter came from Cambridge [the Harvard Observatory], and I had some work to do over. It was a wearyful job, but by dint of shutting myself up all day I did manage to get through with it. The good of my travelling showed itself then, when I was too tired to read, to listen, or to talk; for the beautiful scenery of the West was with me in the evening, instead of the tedious columns of logarithms. It is a blessed thing that these pictures keep in the mind and come out at the needful hour. I did not call them, but they seemed to come forth as a regulator for my tired brain, as if they had been set sentinel-like to watch a proper time to appear.

"November, 1853. There is said to be no up or down in creation, but I think the world must be low, for people who keep themselves constantly before it do a great deal of stooping!

"Dec. 8, 1853. Last night we had the first meeting of the class in elocution. It was very pleasant, but my deficiency of ear was never more apparent to myself. We had exercises in the ascending scale, and I practised after I came home, with the family as audience. H. says my ear is competent only to vulgar hearing, and I cannot appreciate nice distinctions…. I am sure that I shall never say that if I had been properly educated I should have made a singer, a dancer, or a painter—I should have failed less, perhaps, in the last. … Coloring I might have been good in, for I do think my eyes are better than those of any one I know.

"Feb. 18, 1854. If I should make out a calendar by my feelings of fatigue, I should say there were six Saturdays in the week and one Sunday.

"Mr. —— somewhat ridicules my plan of reading Milton with a view to his astronomy, but I have found it very pleasant, and have certainly a juster idea of Milton's variety of greatness than I had before. I have filled several sheets with my annotations on the 'Paradise Lost,' which I may find useful if I should ever be obliged to teach, either as a schoolma'am or a lecturer. [Footnote: This paper has been printed since Miss Mitchell's death in "Poet-lore," June-July, 1894.]

"March 2, 1854. I 'swept' last night two hours, by three periods. It was a grand night—not a breath of air, not a fringe of a cloud, all clear, all beautiful. I really enjoy that kind of work, but my back soon becomes tired, long before the cold chills me. I saw two nebulae in Leo with which I was not familiar, and that repaid me for the time. I am always the better for open-air breathing, and was certainly meant for the wandering life of the Indian.

"Sept. 12, 1854. I am just through with a summer, and a summer is to me always a trying ordeal. I have determined not to spend so much time at the Atheneum another season, but to put some one in my place who shall see the strange faces and hear the strange talk.

"How much talk there is about religion! Giles [Footnote: Rev. Henry Giles.] I like the best, for he seems, like myself, to have no settled views, and to be religious only in feeling. He says he has no piety, but a great sense of infinity.

"Yesterday I had a Shaker visitor, and to-day a Catholic; and the more I see and hear, the less do I care about church doctrines. The Catholic, a priest, I have known as an Atheneum visitor for some time. He talked to-day, on my asking him some questions, and talked better than I expected. He is plainly full of intelligence, full of enthusiasm for his religion, and, I suspect, full of bigotry. I do not believe he will die a Catholic priest. A young man of his temperament must find it hard to live without family ties, and I shall expect to hear, if I ever hear of him again, that some good little Irish girl has made him forget his vows.

"My visitors, in other respects, have been of the average sort. Four women have been delighted to make my acquaintance—three men have thought themselves in the presence of a superior being; one offered me twenty-five cents because I reached him the key of the museum. One woman has opened a correspondence with me, and several have told me that they knew friends of mine; two have spoken of me in small letters to small newspapers; one said he didn't see me, and one said he did! I have become hardened to all; neither compliment nor quarter-dollar rouses any emotion. My fit of humility, which has troubled me all summer, is shaken, however, by the first cool breeze of autumn and the first walk taken without perspiration.

"Sept. 22, 1854. On the evening of the 18th, while 'sweeping,' there came into the field the two nebulae in Ursa Major, which I have known for many a year, but which to my surprise now appeared to be three. The upper one, as seen from an inverting telescope, appeared double-headed, like one near the Dolphin, but much more decided than that, the space between the two heads being very plainly discernible and subtending a decided angle. The bright part of this object was clearly the old nebula—but what was the appendage? Had the nebula suddenly changed? Was it a comet, or was it merely a very fine night? Father decided at once for the comet; I hesitated, with my usual cowardice, and forbade his giving it a notice in the newspaper.

"I watched it from 8.30 to 11.30 almost without cessation, and was quite sure at 11.30 that its position had changed with regard to the neighboring stars. I counted its distance from the known nebula several times, but the whole affair was difficult, for there were flying clouds, and sometimes the nebula and comet were too indistinct to be definitely seen.

"The 19th was cloudy and the 20th the same, with the variety of occasional breaks, through which I saw the nebula, but not the comet.

"On the 21st came a circular, and behold Mr. Van Arsdale had seen it on the 13th, but had not been sure of it until the 15th, on account of the clouds.

"I was too well pleased with having really made the discovery to care because I was not first.

"Let the Dutchman have the reward of his sturdier frame and steadier nerves!

"Especially could I be a Christian because the 13th was cloudy, and more especially because I dreaded the responsibility of making the computations, nolens volens, which I must have done to be able to call it mine….

"I made observations for three hours last night, and am almost ill to-day from fatigue; still I have worked all day, trying to reduce the places, and mean to work hard again to-night.

"Sept. 25, 1854. I began to recompute for the comet, with observations of Cambridge and Washington, to-day. I have had a fit of despondency in consequence of being obliged to renounce my own observations as too rough for use. The best that can be said of my life so far is that it has been industrious, and the best that can be said of me is that I have not pretended to what I was not.

"October 10. As soon as I had run through the computations roughly for the comet, so as to make up my mind that by my own observations (which were very wrong) the Perihelion was passed, and nothing more to be hoped for from observations, I seized upon a pleasant day and went to the Cape for an excursion. We went to Yarmouth, Sandwich, and Plymouth, enjoying the novelty of the new car-route. It really seemed like railway travelling on our own island, so much sand and so flat a country.

"The little towns, too, seemed quaint and odd, and the old gray cottages looked as if they belonged to the last century, and were waked from a long nap by the railway whistle.

"I thought Sandwich a beautiful, and Plymouth an interesting, town. I would fain have gone off into some poetical quotation, such as 'The breaking waves dashed high' or 'The Pilgrim fathers, where are they?' but K., who had been there before, desired me not to be absurd, but to step quietly on to the half-buried rock and quietly off. Younger sisters know a deal, so I did as I was bidden to do, and it was just as well not to make myself hoarse without an appreciative audience.

"I liked the picture by Sargent in Pilgrim Hall, but seeing Plymouth on a mild, sunny day, with everything looking bright and pleasant, it was difficult to conceive of the landing of the Pilgrims as an event, or that the settling of such a charming spot required any heroism.

"The picture, of course, represents the dreariness of winter, and my feelings were moved by the chilled appearance of the little children, and the pathetic countenance of little Peregrine White, who, considering that he was born in the harbor, is wonderfully grown up before they are welcomed by Samoset. According to history little Peregrine was born about December 6 and Samoset met them about March 16; so he was three months old, but he is plainly a forward child, for he looks up very knowingly. Such a child had immortality thrust upon him from his birth. It must have had a deadening influence upon him to know that he was a marked man whether he did anything worthy of mark or not. He does not seem to have made any figure after his entrance into the world, though he must have created a great sensation when he came.

"October 17. I have just gone over my comet computations again, and it is humiliating to perceive how very little more I know than I did seven years ago when I first did this kind of work. To be sure, I have only once in the time computed a parabolic orbit; but it seems to me that I know no more in general. I think I am a little better thinker, that I take things less upon trust, but at the same time I trust myself much less. The world of learning is so broad, and the human soul is so limited in power! We reach forth and strain every nerve, but we seize only a bit of the curtain that hides the infinite from us.

"Will it really unroll to us at some future time? Aside from the gratification of the affections in another world, that of the intellect must be great if it is enlarged and its desires are the same.

"Nov. 24, 1854. Yesterday James Freeman Clarke, the biographer of Margaret Fuller, came into the Atheneum. It was plain that he came to see me and not the institution…. He rushed into talk at once, mostly on people, and asked me about my astronomical labors. As it was a kind of flattery, I repaid it in kind by asking him about Margaret Fuller. He said she did not strike any one as a person of intellect or as a student, for all her faculties were kept so much abreast that none had prominence. I wanted to ask if she was a lovable person, but I did not think he would be an unbiassed judge, she was so much attached to him.

"Dec. 5, 1854. The love of one's own sex is precious, for it is neither provoked by vanity nor retained by flattery; it is genuine and sincere. I am grateful that I have had much of this in my life.

"The comet looked in upon us on the 29th. It made a twilight call, looking sunny and bright, as if it had just warmed itself in the equinoctial rays. A boy on the street called my attention to it, but I found on hurrying home that father had already seen it, and had ranged it behind buildings so as to get a rough position.

"It was piping cold, but we went to work in good earnest that night, and the next night on which we could see it, which was not until April.

"I was dreadfully busy, and a host of little annoyances crowded upon me. I had a good star near it in the field of my comet-seeker, but what star?

"On that rested everything, and I could not be sure even from the catalogue, for the comet and the star were so much in the twilight that I could get no good neighboring stars. We called it Arietes, or 707.

"Then came a waxing moon, and we waxed weary in trying to trace the fainter and fainter comet in the mists of twilight and the glare of moonlight.

"Next I broke a screw of my instrument, and found that no screw of that description could be bought in the town.

"I started off to find a man who could make one, and engaged him to do so the next day. The next day was Fast Day; all the world fasted, at least from labor.

"However, the screw was made, and it fitted nicely. The clouds cleared, and we were likely to have a good night. I put up my instrument, but scarcely had the screw-driver touched the new screw than out it flew from its socket, rolled along the floor of the 'walk,' dropped quietly through a crack into the gutter of the house-roof. I heard it click, and felt very much like using language unbecoming to a woman's mouth.

"I put my eye down to the crack, but could not see it. There was but one thing to be done,—the floor-boards must come up. I got a hatchet, but could do nothing. I called father; he brought a crowbar and pried up the board, then crawled under it and found the screw. I took good care not to lose it a second time.

"The instrument was fairly mounted when the clouds mounted to keep it company, and the comet and I again parted.

"In all observations, the blowing out of a light by a gust of wind is a very common and very annoying accident; but I once met with a much worse one, for I dropped a chronometer, and it rolled out of its box on to the ground. We picked it up in a great panic, but it had not even altered its rate, as we found by later observations.

"The glaring eyes of the cat, who nightly visited me, were at one time very annoying, and a man who climbed up a fence and spoke to me, in the stillness of the small hours, fairly shook not only my equanimity, but the pencil which I held in my hand. He was quite innocent of any intention to do me harm, but he gave me a great fright.

"The spiders and bugs which swarm in my observing-houses I have rather an attachment for, but they must not crawl over my recording-paper. Rats are my abhorrence, and I learned with pleasure that some poison had been placed under the transit-house.

"One gets attached (if the term may be used) to certain midnight apparitions. The Aurora Borealis is always a pleasant companion; a meteor seems to come like a messenger from departed spirits; and the blossoming of trees in the moonlight becomes a sight looked for with pleasure.

"Aside from the study of astronomy, there is the same enjoyment in a night upon the housetop, with the stars, as in the midst of other grand scenery; there is the same subdued quiet and grateful seriousness; a calm to the troubled spirit, and a hope to the desponding.

"Even astronomers who are as well cared for as are those of Cambridge have their annoyances, and even men as skilled as they are make blunders.

"I have known one of the Bonds,[Footnote: Of the Harvard College Observatory.] with great effort, turn that huge telescope down to the horizon to make an observation upon a blazing comet seen there, and when he had found it in his glass, find also that it was not a comet, but the nebula of Andromeda, a cluster of stars on which he had spent much time, and which he had made a special object of study.

"Dec. 26, 1854. They were wonderful men, the early astronomers. That was a great conception, which now seems to us so simple, that the earth turns upon its axis, and a still greater one that it revolves about the sun (to show this last was worth a man's lifetime, and it really almost cost the life of Galileo). Somehow we are ready to think that they had a wider field than we for speculation, that truth being all unknown it was easier to take the first step in its paths. But is the region of truth limited? Is it not infinite?… We know a few things which were once hidden, and being known they seem easy; but there are the flashings of the Northern Lights—'Across the lift they start and shift;' there is the conical zodiacal beam seen so beautifully in the early evenings of spring and the early mornings of autumn; there are the startling comets, whose use is all unknown; there are the brightening and flickering variable stars, whose cause is all unknown; and the meteoric showers—and for all of these the reasons are as clear as for the succession of day and night; they lie just beyond the daily mist of our minds, but our eyes have not yet pierced through it."