Cambridge
2014 August 10
SOURCE: Passages from the Life of a Philosopher by Charles Babbage, Esq., M.A. [London: Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1864]
Babbage's words are in bold.
Universal Language --- Purchase Lacroix's Quarto Work on the Integral
Calculus --- Disappointment on getting no explanation of my
Mathematical Difficulties --- Origin of the Analytical Society ---
The Ghost Club
--- Chess --- Sixpenny Whist and Guinea Whist --- Boating --- Chemistry ---
Elected Lucasian Professor of Mathematics in 1828.
My father, with a view of acquiring some information
which might be of use to me at Cambridge, had consulted a
tutor of one of the colleges, who was passing his long
vacation at the neighbouring watering-place, Teignmouth. He
dined with us frequently. The advice of the Rev. Doctor
was quite sound, but very limited. It might be summed up
in one short sentence :
"Advise your son not to purchase his
wine in Cambridge."
Previously to my entrance at Trinity College, Cambridge,
I resided for a time at Totnes, under the guidance of an
Oxford tutor, who undertook to superintend my classical
studies only.
During my residence at this place I accidentally heard, for
the first time, of an idea of forming a universal language. I
was much fascinated by it, and, soon after, proceeded to
write a kind of grammar, and then to devise a dictionary.
Some trace of the former, I think, I still possess : but I was
stopped in my idea of making a universal dictionary by the
apparent impossibility of arranging signs in any consecutive
order, so as to find, as in a dictionary, the meaning of each
when wanted. It was only after I had been some time at
Cambridge that I became acquainted with the
work of Bishop Wilkins on "Universal Language."
Being passionately fond of algebra, I had instructed
myself by means of Ward's
Young Mathematician's Guide
which had casually fallen into my hands at school. I now
employed all my leisure in studying such mathematical
works as accident brought to my knowledge. Amongst these
were Humphrey Ditton's Fluxions, of which I could make
nothing; Madame Agnesi's
Analytical Institutions, from
which I acquired some knowledge ; Woodhouse's Principles
of Analytical Calculation, from which I learned the notation
of Leibnitz ; and Lagrange's
Théorie des Fonctions. I
possessed also the Fluxions
of Maclaurin and
of Simpson.
Thus it happened that when I went to Cambridge I could
work out such questions as the very moderate amount of
mathematics which I then possessed admitted, with equal
facility, in the dots of Newton, the d's of Leibnitz, or the
dashes of Lagrange. I had, however, met with many
difficulties, and looked forward with intense delight to the
certainty of having them all removed on my arrival at
Cambridge. I had in my imagination formed a plan for the
institution amongst my future friends of a chess club, and
also of another club for the discussion of mathematical
subjects.
In 1811, during the war, it was very difficult to procure
foreign books. I had heard of the
great work of Lacroix,
on the "Differential and Integral Calculus," which I longed
to possess, and being misinformed that its price was two
guineas, I resolved to purchase it in London on my passage
to Cambridge. As soon as I arrived I went to the French
bookseller, Dulau, and to my great surprise found that the
price of the book was seven guineas ! After much thought
I made the costly purchase, went on immediately to Cambridge;
saw my tutor, Hudson; got lodgings; and then spent
the greater part of the night in turning over the pages of my
newly-acquired purchase. After a few days, I went to my
public tutor Hudson, to ask the explanation of one of my
mathematical difficulties. He listened to my question, said it
would not be asked in the Senate House, and was of no sort
of consequence, and advised me to get up the earlier subjects
of the university studies.
After some little while I went to ask the explanation of
another difficulty from one of the lecturers. He treated the
question just in the same way. I made a third effort to be
enlightened about what was really a doubtful question, and
felt satisfied that the person I addressed knew nothing of
the matter, although he took some pains to disguise his
ignorance.
I thus acquired a distaste for the routine of the studies of
the place, and devoured the papers of Euler and other
mathematicians, scattered through innumerable volumes of
the academies of Petersburgh, Berlin, and Paris, which the
libraries I had recourse to contained.
Under these circumstances it was not surprising that I
should perceive and be penetrated with the superior power
of the notation of Leibnitz.
At an early period, probably at the commencement of the
second year of my residence at Cambridge, a friend of mine,
Michael Slegg, of Trinity, was taking wine with me, discussing
mathematical subjects, to which he also was enthusiastically
attached. Hearing the chapel bell ring, he took
leave of me, promising to return for a cup of coffee.
At this period Cambridge was agitated by a fierce controversy.
Societies had been formed for printing and circulating the Bible.
One party proposed to circulate it with
notes, in order to make it intelligible ; whilst the other
scornfully rejected all explanations of the word of God as
profane attempts to mend that which was perfect.
The walls of the town were placarded with broadsides, and
posters were sent from house to house. One of the latter
form of advertisement was lying upon my table when Slegg
left me. Taking up the paper, and looking through it, I
thought it, from its exaggerated tone, a good subject for a
parody.
I then drew up the sketch of a society to be instituted for
translating the
small work of Lacroix on the Differential and
Integral Calculus. It proposed that we should have periodical
meetings for the propagation of d's ; and consigned to
perdition all who supported the heresy of dots.
(Leibnitz indicated fluxions by a d, Newton by a dot.) It maintained
that the work of Lacroix was so perfect that any comment
was unnecessary. [At Cambridge, of course, it was
Leibnitz's notation, used by Lacroix, which the Dons considered heretical.]
On Slegg's return from chapel I put the parody into his
hands. My friend enjoyed the joke heartily, and at parting
asked my permission to show the parody to a mathematical
friend of his, Mr. Bromhead, afterwards
Sir Edward Ffrench Bromhead, Bart., the author of an
interesting paper in the Transactions of the Royal Society.
[This is possibly a joke. Bromhead, although an enormously
influential mathematician, only published one research paper in the
whole of his career.]
The next day Slegg called on me, and said that he had
put the joke into the hand of his friend, who, after laughing
heartily, remarked that it was too good a joke to be lost,
and proposed seriously that we should form a society for the
cultivation of mathematics. The next day Bromhead called
on me. We talked the
subject over, and agreed to hold a meeting at his lodgiugs
for the purpose of forming a society for the promotion of
analysis.
At that meeting, besides the projectors, there were present
Herschel, Peacock, D'Arblay (the only son of Madame D'Arblay
[i.e. of the novelist Fanny Burney]),
Ryan (now the Right Honourable Sir Edward), Robinson
(now the Rev. Dr. Robinson, Master of the Temple), Frederick
Maule (a younger brother of the late Mr. Justice Maule) and several others.
We constituted ourselves "The
Analytical Society ;" hired a meeting-room, open daily ; held
meetings, read papers, and discussed them. Of course we
were much ridiculed by the Dons ; and, not being put down,
it was darkly hinted that we were young infidels, and that no
good would come of us.
In the meantime we quietly pursued our course, and at
last resolved to publish a volume of our Transactions. Owing
to the illness of one of the number, and to various other
circumstances, the volume which was published was entirely
contributed by Herschel and myself.
At last our work was printed, and it became necessary to
decide upon a title. Recalling the slight imputation which
had been made upon our faith, I suggested that the most
appropriate title would be ---
In thus reviving this wicked pun, I ought at the same
time to record an instance of forgiveness unparalleled in
history. Fourteen years after, being then at Rome, I accidentally
read in Galignani's newspaper the following paragraph, dated Cambridge :
"Yesterday the bells of St. Mary
rang on the election of Mr. Babbage as Lucasian Professor
of Mathematics."
If this event had happened during the lifetime of my
father, it would have been most gratifying to myself, because,
whilst it would have given him much pleasure, it would then
also have afforded intense delight to my mother.
I concluded that the next post would bring me the official
confirmation of this report, and after some consideration I
sketched the draft of a letter, in which I proposed to thank
the University sincerely for the honour they had done me,
but to decline it.
This sketch of a letter was hardly dry when two of my
intimate friends who resided close to me in the Piazza del Populo,
the Rev. Mr. Lunn and Mr. Beilby Thompson,
afterwards Lord Wenlock, , came
over to congratulate me on the appointment. I showed them
my proposed reply, against which they earnestly protested.
Their first, and as they believed their strongest, reason was
that it would give so much pleasure to my mother. To this
I answered that my mother's opinion of her son had been
confirmed by the reception he had met with in every foreign
country he had visited, and that this, in her estimation, would
add but little to it.
To their next argument I had no satisfactory answer. It was that
this election could not have
occurred unless some friends of mine in England had taken
active measures to promote it ; that some of these might have
been personal friends, but that many others might have
exerted themselves entirely upon principle, and that it would
be harsh to disappoint such friends, and reject such a compliment.
My own feelings were of a mixed nature. I saw the vast
field that the Difference Engine had opened out ; for, before
I left England in the previous year, I had extended its
mechanism to the tabulation of functions having no constant
difference, and more particularly I had arrived at the knowledge
of the entire command it would have over the computation of the
most important classes of tables, those of astronomy and of navigation.
I was also most anxious to give
my whole time to the completion of the mechanism of the
Difference Engine No. 1 which I had then in hand. Small
as the admitted duties of the Lucasian Chair were, I felt that
they would absorb time which I thought better devoted to
the completion of the Difference Engine. If I had then been
aware that the lapse of a few years would have thrown upon
me the enormous labour which the Analytical Engine
absorbed, no motive short of absolute necessity would have
induced me to accept any office which might, in the slightest
degree, withdraw my attention from its contrivance.
The result of this consultation with my two friends was,
that I determined to accept the Chair of Newton, and to hold
it for a few years. In 1839 the demands of the Analytical
Engine upon my attention had become so incessant and so
exhausting, that even the few duties of the Lucasian Chair
had a sensible effect in impairing my bodily strength. I
therefore sent in my resignation.
In January, 1829, I visited Cambridge, to fulfil one of the
first duties of my new office, the examination for Dr. Smith's
prizes. These two prizes, of twenty-five pounds each, exercise a
very curious and important influence. Usually three or four
hundred young men are examined previously to taking their
degree. The University officers examine and place them
in the order of their mathematical merit. The class called
Wranglers is the highest; of these the first is called the
senior wrangler, the others the second and third, &c.,
wranglers. All the young men who have just taken their degree, whether
with or without honours, are qualified to compete for the
Smith's prizes by sending in notice to the electors, who
consist of the three Professors of Geometry, Astronomy, and
Physics, assisted occasionally by two official electors, the
Vice-Chancellor and the Master of Trinity College. However, in
point of fact, generally three, and rarely above six young men
compete.
It is manifest that the University officers, who examine
several hundred young men, cannot bestow the same minute
attention upon each as those who, at the utmost, only examine
six. Nor is this of any importance, except to the few first
wranglers, who usually are candidates for these prizes. The
consequence is that the examiners of the Smith's prizes
constitute, as it were, a court of appeal from the decision of the
University officers. The decision of the latter is thus therefore,
necessarily appealed against upon every occasion. Perhaps
in one out of five or six cases the second or third wrangler
obtains the first Smith's prize. I may add that in the
few cases known to me previously to my becoming an examiner,
the public opinion of the University always approved
those decisions, without implying any censure on the officers
of the University.
In forming my set of questions, I consulted the late Dean
of Ely and another friend, in order that I might not suddenly
deviate too much from the usual style of examinations.
After having examined the young men, I sat up the whole
night, carefully weighing the relative merits of their answers.
I found, with some mortification, that, according to my marks,
the second wrangler ought to have the first prize. I therefore
put aside the papers until the day before the decision.
I then took an unmarked copy of my questions, and put new
numbers for their respective values. After very carefully
going over the whole of the examination-papers again, I
arrived almost exactly at my former conclusion.
On our meeting at the Vice-Chancellor's, that functionary
asked me, as the senior professor, what was my decision as to
the two prizes. I stated that the result of my examination
obliged me to award the first prize to the second wrangler.
Professor Airy was then asked the same question. He made
the same reply. Professor Lax being then asked, said he
had arrived at the same conclusion as his two colleagues.
The Vice-Chancellor remarked that when we altered the
arrangement of the University Examiners, it was very
satisfactory that we should be unanimous. Professor Airy
observed that this satisfaction was enhanced by the fact of
the remarkable difference in the tastes of the three examiners !
The Vice-Chancellor, turning to me, asked whether it
might be permitted to inquire the numbers we had respectively
assigned to each candidate.
I and my colleagues immediately mentioned our numbers,
which Professor Airy at once reduced to a common scale.
On this it appeared that the number of marks assigned to each
by Professor Airy and myself very nearly agreed, whilst that
of Professor Lax differed but little.
On this occasion the first Smith's prize was assigned to the
second wrangler,
Mr. Cavendish, now Duke of Devonshire,
the present Chancellor of the University.
[That William Cavendish -- aristocratic industrialist and
establishment politician but never a professional
scientist -- was Second Wrangler and winner of
the Smith's Prize attests to the astonishingly sophisticated
mathematical background of the Nineteenth Century British ruling class --
or at least of its Cambridge wing. The First Wrangler, whom
Babbage politely avoids naming, was
Henry Philpott. Like many of the best Regency and
early-Victorian mathematics students, Philpott entered the Anglican
priesthood; eventually he was made
Bishop of Worcester, and was selected by Prince Albert
as his personal chaplain.]
The result of the whole of my after-experience showed that
amongst the highest men the peculiar tastes of the examiners
had no effect in disturbing the proper decision.
I held the Chair of Newton for some few years, and still
feel deeply grateful for the honour the University conferred
upon me --- the only honour I ever received in my own
country.
This professorship is not in the gift of the Government. The electors
are the masters of the various colleges. It was founded in 1663 by Henry
Lucas, M.P. for the University, and was endowed by him with a small
estate in Bedfordshire. During my tenure of that office my net receipts
were between 80l. and 90l. a year. I am glad to find that the estate is
now improved, and that the University have added an annual salary to the
Chair of Newton.
I must now return to my pursuits during my residence at
Cambridge, the account of which has been partially interrupted
by the history of my appointment to the Chair of
Newton.
Whilst I was an undergraduate, I lived probably in a
greater variety of sets than any of my young companions.
But my chief and choicest consisted of some ten or a dozen
friends who usually breakfasted with me every Sunday after
chapel; arriving at about nine, and remaining to between
twelve and one o'clock. We discussed all knowable and
many unknowable things.
At one time we resolved ourselves into a Ghost Club, and
proceeded to collect evidence, and entered into a considerable
correspondence upon the subject. Some of this was
both interesting and instructive.
At another time we resolved ourselves into a Club which
we called The Extractors. Its rules were as follows, ---
It has often occurred to me to inquire of my legal friends
whether, if the sanity of any member of the club had been
questioned in after-life, he would have adduced the fact of
membership of the Club of Extractors as an indication of
sanity or of insanity.
During the first part of my residence at Cambridge, I
played at chess very frequently, often with D'Arblay and
with several other good players. There was at that period a
fellow-commoner at Trinity named Brande, who devoted
almost his whole time to the study of chess. I was invited to
meet him one evening at the rooms of a common friend for
the purpose of trying our strength.
On arriving at my friend's rooms, I found a note informing
me that he had gone to Newmarket, and had left coffee and
the chessmen for us. I was myself tormented by great
shyness, and my yet unseen adversary was, I understood,
equally diffident. I was sitting before the chess-board when
Brande entered. I rose, he advanced, sat down, and took a
white and a black pawn from the board, which he held, one in
either hand. I pointed with my finger to the left hand and
won the move.
The game then commenced ; it was rather a long one, and
I won it : but not a word was exchanged until the end : when
Brande uttered the first word. " Another ?" To this I nodded
assent.
How that game was decided I do not now remember ; but
the first sentence pronounced by either of us, was a remark
by Brande, that he had lost the first game by a certain move
of his white bishop. To this I replied, that I thought he was
mistaken, and that the real cause of his losing the game arose
from the use I had made of my knight two moves previously
to his white bishop's move.
We then immediately began to replace the men on the
board in the positions they occupied at that particular point
of the game when the white bishop's move was made. Each
took up any piece indiscriminately, and placed it without
hesitation on the exact square on which it had stood. It
then became apparent that the effective move to which I
had referred was that of my knight.
Brande, during his residence at Cambridge, studied chess
regularly several hours each day, and read almost every
treatise on the subject. After he left college he travelled
abroad, took lessons from every celebrated teacher, and
played with all the most eminent players on the Continent.
At intervals of three or four years I occasionally met him
in London. After the usual greeting he always proposed
that we should play a game of chess.
I found on these occasions, that if I played any of the
ordinary openings, such as are found in the books, I was sure
to be beaten. The only way in which I had a chance of
winning, was by making early in the game a move so bad
that it had not been mentioned in any treatise. (Brande
possessed, and had read, almost every book upon the
subject.)
Another set which I frequently joined were addicted to
sixpenny whist. It consisted of Higman, afterwards Tutor of
Trinity ; Follet, afterwards Attorney-General ; of a learned
and accomplished Dean still living, and I have no doubt still
playing an excellent rubber ; and myself. We not unfrequently
sat from chapel-time in the evening until the sound
of the morning chapel bell again called us to our religious
duties.
I mixed occasionally with a different set of whist players
at Jesus College. They played high : guinea points, and five
guineas on the rubber. I was always a most welcome visitor,
not from my skill at the game ; but because I never played
more than shilling points and five shillings on the rubber.
Consequently my partner had what they considered an
advantage : namely, that of playing guinea points with one of
our adversaries and pound points with the other.
Totally different in character was another set in which I
mixed. I was very fond of boating, not of the manual labour
of rowing, but the more intellectual art of sailing. I kept a
beautiful, light, London-built boat, and occasionally took long
voyages down the river, beyond Ely into the fens. To
accomplish these trips, it was necessary to have two or three
strong fellows to row when the wind failed or was contrary.
These were useful friends upon my aquatic expeditions, but
not being of exactly the same calibre as my friends of the
Ghost Club, were very cruelly and disrespectfully called by
them "my Tom fools."
The plan of our voyage was thus: --- I sent my servant to
the apothecary for a thing called an ægrotat,
which I understood, (for I never saw one,) meant a certificate that I was
indisposed, and that it would be injurious to my health to
attend chapel, or hall, or lectures. This was forwarded to
the college authorities.
I also directed my servant to order the cook to send me a
large well-seasoned meat pie, a couple of fowls, &c. These
were packed in a hamper with three or four bottles of wine
and one of noyau [crème liqueur].
We sailed when the wind was fair, and
rowed when there was none. Whittlesea Mere was a very
favourite resort for sailing, fishing, and shooting. Sometimes
we reached Lynn. After various adventures and five or
six days of hard exercise in the open air, we returned with
our health more renovated than if the best physician had
prescribed for us.
During my residence at Cambridge, Smithson Tennant
was the Professor of Chemistry, and I attended his lectures.
Having a spare room, I turned it into a kind of laboratory,
in which Herschel worked with me, until he set
up a rival one of his own. We both occasionally assisted
the Professor in preparing his experiments. The science of
chemistry had not then assumed the vast development it has
now attained. I gave up its practical pursuit soon after I
resided in London, but I have never regretted the time I
bestowed upon it at the commencement of my career. I
had hoped to have long continued to enjoy the friendship
of my entertaining and valued instructor, and to have
profited by his introducing me to the science of the metropolis,
but his tragical fate deprived me of that advantage.
Whilst riding with General Bulow across a drawbridge at
Boulogne, the bolt having been displaced, Smithson Tennant
was precipitated to the bottom, and killed on the spot. The
General, having an earlier warning, set spurs to his horse,
and just escaped a similar fate.
My views respecting the notation of Leibnitz now (1812)
received confirmation from an extensive course of reading. I
became convinced that the notation of fluxions must ultimately
prove a strong impediment to the progress of English science.
But I knew, also, that it was hopeless for any young and
unknown author to attempt to introduce the notation of
Leibnitz into an elementary work. This opinion naturally
suggested to me the idea of translating the smaller work of
Lacroix. It is possible, although I have no recollection of it,
that the same idea may have occurred to several of my
colleagues of the Analytical Society, but most of them were so
occupied, first with their degree, and then with their examination
for fellowships, that no steps were at that time taken by
any of them on that subject.
Unencumbered by these distractions, I commenced the
task, but at what period of time I do not exactly recollect.
I had finished a portion of the translation, and laid it aside,
when, some years afterwards, Peacock called on me in
Devonshire Street, and stated that both Herschel and himself were
convinced that the change from the dots to the d's would not
be accomplished until some foreign work of eminence should
be translated into English. Peacock then proposed that I
should either finish the translation which I had commenced,
or that Herschel and himself should complete the remainder
of my translation. I suggested that we should toss up which
alternative to take. It was determined by lot that we should
make a joint translation. Some months after,
the translation of the small work of Lacroix was published.
For several years after, the progress of the notation of
Leibnitz at Cambridge was slow. It is true that the tutors
of the two largest colleges had adopted it, but it was taught
at none of the other colleges.
It is always difficult to think and reason in a new language,
and this difficulty discouraged all but men of energetic minds.
I saw, however, that, by making it their interest to do so, the
change might be accomplished. I therefore proposed to
make a large collection of examples of the differential and
integral calculus, consisting merely of the statement of each
problem and its final solution. I foresaw that if such a
publication existed, all those tutors who did not approve of the
change of the Newtonian notation would yet, in order to
save their own time and trouble, go to this collection of
examples to find problems to set to their pupils. After a
short time the use of the new signs would become familiar,
and I anticipated their general adoption at Cambridge as a
matter of course.
I commenced by copying out a large portion of the work
of Hirsch. I then communicated to Peacock and Herschel
my view, and proposed that they should each contribute a
portion.
Peacock considerably modified my plan by giving the process
of solution to a large number of the questions. Herschel
prepared the questions in finite differences, and I supplied the
examples to the calculus of functions. In a very few years
the change was completely established ; and thus at last the
English cultivators of mathematical science, untrammelled by
a limited and imperfect system of signs, entered on equal
terms into competition with then continental rivals.
[Apparently the book in question is
A Collection of Examples of the
Applications of the Differential and Integral Calculus,
the title-page of which lists only George Peacock as author
and which contains no material on finite differences.]
CAMBRIDGE.
S. F. Lacroix by David d'Angers (1843).
(Photo by Sakhrat, Wikipedia.)