HENRY CAVENDISH. 433 



of science, wliicli he tlirew open to all engaged in research, and from 

 which he himself never took a book without leaving a formal receipt. 

 His favorite residence was a beautiful suburban villa at Clapham, 

 which now, as well as a street in the neighborhood, bears his name. 

 The whole house was occupied with workshops and laboratory, only a 

 small part being set aside for personal comfort. He needed nothing 

 more for himself, and he did not wish others to visit him. When occa- 

 sionally he had guests, they were always feasted on a leg of mutton. 

 On one occasion his housekeeper suggested that a leg of mutton would 

 not be enough. Well, then get two, was the reply. 



The more prominent of Cavendish's contemporaries have left 

 graphic estimates of his remarkable and interesting peculiarities of 

 character. The most striking was a singular love of being alone. He 

 held aloof from social intercourse, even with members of his own family, 

 and only once a year saw the one he had made his heir. To the great 

 objects of common regard which excite the fancy, the emotions and the 

 higher affections, he was equally indifferent. The beautiful, the sub- 

 lime and the spiritual seem to have lain entirely beyond his horizon. 

 Although he is thought to have held Unitarian views, he is also under- 

 stood never to have attended a place of worship. In the words of one of 

 his contemporaries, 'he was the coldest and most indifEerent of mortals.' 

 He never married and was reputed to have a positive dislike for women. 

 Lord Brougham tells us that Cavendish ordered his dinner daily by a 

 note, left on the hall table, where the housekeeper could afterwards get 

 it. Another authority relates that Cavendish 'one day met a maid ser- 

 vant on the stairs with a broom and pail, and was so annoyed that he 

 immediately ordered a back staircase to be built.' His dress was that 

 of the gentleman of the preceding half century. The frilled shirt- 

 Avaist, the greatcoat of a greenish color, and the cocked hat, made a pic- 

 ture no one was likely to mistake. But gleams of genius often broke 

 through this unpromising exterior. He never spoke except to the 

 point, and always supplied excellent information or drew some impor- 

 tant conclusion from his own very extensive and accurate knowledge. 

 So that while Sir Humphry Davy said of him, "His voice was sqiieak- 

 ing, his manner nervous, he was afraid of strangers, and seemed, when 

 embarrassed, even to articulate with difficulty," he also said, "He was 

 acute, sagacious, and profound, and, I think, the most accomplished 

 British philosopher of his time." 



But two additonal dates remain to be given in reference to his per- 

 sonal history: The first, March 25, 1803, when he was elected one of the 

 eight foreign associates of the French Institute; the second, February 

 24, 1810, when he died, in his seventy-ninth year. As he lived so he 

 died by rule, predicting his death as if it had been the eclipse of some 

 great luminary (as indeed it was), and counting the moment when 



VOL. LIX. — 30 



