Passages from the Life of a Philosopher quotes

Some men write their lives to save themselves from ennui, careless of the amount they inflict on their readers.

Others write their personal history, lest some kind friend should survive them, and, in showing off his own talent, unwittingly show them up.

Some men write their lives to save themselves from ennui, careless of the amount they inflict on their readers.

Others write their personal history, lest some kind friend should survive them, and, in showing off his own talent, unwittingly show them up.

Others, again, write their own life from a different motive—from fear that the vampires of literature might make it their prey.

others offered to insert it without charge. One proposed to give me a quarter of a column gratis, and as many additional lines of eloge as I chose to write and pay for at ten-pence per line.

To many of these I sent a list of my works, with the remark that they formed the best life of an author; but nobody cared to insert them.

I have no desire to write my own biography, as long as I have strength and means to do better work.

To many of these I sent a list of my works, with the remark that they formed the best life of an author; but nobody cared to insert them.

I have no desire to write my own biography, as long as I have strength and means to do better work.

The remarkable circumstances attending those Calculating Machines, on which I have spent so large a portion of my life, make me wish to place on record some account of their past history.

Value of a celebrated Name—My Ancestors—Their Ante-Mosaic origin—Flint-workers—Toolmakers—Not descended from Cain—Ought a Philosopher to avow it if he were?—Probability of Descent from Tubal Cain—Argument in favour, he worked in Iron—On the other side, he invented Organs—Possible origin of my Name—Family History in very recent times.

What is there in a name? It is merely an empty basket, until you put something into it.

My earliest visit to the Continent taught me the value of such a basket, filled with the name of my venerable friend the first Herschel, ere yet my younger friend his son, had adorned his distinguished patronymic with the additional laurels of his own well-earned …

In the course of one of our drives, I alluded to the advantages of inheriting a distinguished name, as in the case of the second Herschel. His remark was, “For my own part, I think it a great disadvantage.

Such a man must feel in the position of one inheriting a vast estate, so deeply mortgaged that he can never hope, by any efforts of his own, to redeem it.

”

Let us, therefore, take for granted that man and certain extinct races of animals lived together, thousands of years before Adam. We find, at that period, a race who formed knives, and hammers, and arrowheads out of flint.

Now, considering my own inveterate habit of contriving tools, it is more probable that I should derive my passion by hereditary transmission from these original toolmakers, than from any other inferior race existing at that period.

Many years ago I met a very agreeable party at Mr. Rogers’ table. Somebody introduced the subject of ancestry. I remarked that most people are reluctant to acknowledge as their father or grandfather, any person who had committed a dishonest action or a crime.

After some consideration, he said he should burn them; and then inquired what I should do in the same circumstances. My reply was, that I should preserve them: but simply because I thought the preservation of any fact might ultimately be useful.

I possess no evidence that I am descended from Cain.

If any herald suppose that there may be such a presumption, I think it must arise from his confounding Cain with Tubal Cain, who was a great worker in iron. Still, however he might argue that, the probabilities are in favour of his opinion:

He had not a good memory himself, but his wife told me that his name was Babb when she married him, and that it was only during the last twenty years he had adopted the name of Babbage, which, the old man thought, sounded better.

Of course I told his wife that I entirely agreed with her husband, and thought him a very sensible fellow.

The craft most frequently practised by my ancestors seems to have been that of a goldsmith, although several are believed to have practised less dignified trades.

I now think it fit to record some of those views to which, at various periods of my life, my reasoning has led me.

Truth only has been the object of my search, and I am not conscious of ever having turned aside in my inquiries from any fear of the conclusions to which they might lead.

As it may be interesting to some of those who will hereafter read these lines, I shall briefly mention a few events of my earliest, and even of my childish years.

As it may be interesting to some of those who will hereafter read these lines, I shall briefly mention a few events of my earliest, and even of my childish years.

My parents being born at a certain period of history, and in a certain latitude and longitude, of course followed the religion of their country.

They brought me up in the Protestant form of the Christian faith. My excellent mother taught me the usual forms of my daily and nightly prayer;

and neither in my father nor my mother was there any mixture of bigotry and intolerance on the one hand, nor on the other of that unbecoming and familiar mode of addressing the Almighty which afterwards so much disgusted me in my youthful years.

My invariable question on receiving any new toy, was “Mamma, what is inside of it?”

Until this information was obtained those around me had no repose, and the toy itself, I have been told, was generally broken open if the answer did not satisfy my own little ideas of the “fitness of things.”

I then stood still in the centre of that magic and superstitious circle, looking with intense anxiety in all directions, especially at the window and at the chimney.

Fortunately for myself, and for the reader also, if he is interested in this narrative, no owl or black cat or unlucky raven came into the room.

In either case my then weakened frame might have expiated this foolish experiment by its own extinction, or by the alienation of that too curious spirit which controlled its feeble powers.

It was only known that Count Cognac had married the sweet Miss Treacle, whom all the boys knew and loved, and who lodged at the grocer’s, in the neighbouring village. But I believe neither the pedigree of the bridegroom nor his domicile were ever discovered.

It is probable that he was of French origin, and dwelt in a cellar.

After I left this school I was for a few years under the care of an excellent clergyman in the neighbourhood of Cambridge. There were only six boys; but I fear I did not derive from it all the advantage that I might have done.

All investigation at the time was useless: we were sent off to bed as quickly as possible.

It was only known that Count Cognac had married the sweet Miss Treacle, whom all the boys knew and loved, and who lodged at the grocer’s, in the neighbouring village.

But I believe neither the pedigree of the bridegroom nor his domicile were ever discovered. It is probable that he was of French origin, and dwelt in a cellar.

By some unexplained circumstance my sermon relating to copper being isomorphous with Simeon’s own productions, got by substitution into the hands of our master as the recollections of one of the other boys.

Thereupon arose an awful explosion which I decline to paint.

I did, however, learn something at this school, for I observed a striking illustration of the Economy of Manufactures. Mr. Simeon had the cure of a very wicked parish in Cambridge, whilst my instructor held that of a tolerably decent country village.

I then drew up the sketch of a society to be instituted for translating the small work of Lacroix on the Differential and Integral Lacroix.

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.

It maintained that the work of Lacroix was so perfect that any comment was unnecessary.

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—

The Principles of pure D-ism in opposition to the Dot-age of the University.

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.

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.

4th. Every candidate for admission as a member shall produce six certificates. Three that he is sane and three others that he is insane.

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 afterlife, 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.

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 member, coming into the room, and seeing me half asleep, called out, “Well, Babbage, what are you dreaming about?” to which I replied, “

I am thinking that all these Tables (pointing to the logarithms) might be calculated by machinery.

”

On two occasions I have been asked—“Pray, Mr. Babbage, if you put into the machine wrong figures, will the right answers come out?” In one case a member of the Upper, and in the other a member of the Lower, House put this question.

I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a question.

I did, however, explain the following property, which might in some measure approach towards an answer to it.

On two occasions I have been asked—

“Pray, Mr. Babbage, if you put into the machine wrong figures, will the right answers come out?”

In one case a member of the Upper, and in the other a member of the Lower, House put this question. I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a question.

At each stoppage every figure-wheel throughout the Engine, which is capable of being moved without breaking, may be moved on to any other digit. Yet after each of these apparent falsifications the engine will be found to make the next calculation with perfect truth.

The explanation is very simple, and the property itself useless.

The whole of the mechanism ought of course to be enclosed in glass, and kept under lock and key, in which case the mechanism necessary to give it the property alluded to would be useless.

Under such circumstances, surely it was harsh on the part of the Government to refuse Messrs. Donkin permission to exhibit it as a specimen of English workmanship at the Exhibition of 1862.

But the machine upon which everybody could calculate, had little chance of fair play from the man on whom nobody could calculate.

If the Chancellor of the Exchequer had read my letter to Lord Derby, he would have found the opinion of the Committee of the Royal Society expressed in these words:—

he then boldly pronounced the expense to be “utterly incapable of being calculated.”

This much-abused Difference Engine is, however, like its prouder relative the Analytical, a being of sensibility, of impulse, and of power.

It can not only calculate the millions the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer squandered, but it can deal with the smallest quantities; nay, it feels even for zeros.

The circular arrangement of the axes of the Difference Engine round large central wheels led to the most extended prospects.

The whole of arithmetic now appeared within the grasp of mechanism.

A vague glimpse even of an Analytical Engine at length opened out, and I pursued with enthusiasm the shadowy vision. The drawings and the experiments were of the most costly kind.

The circular arrangement of the axes of the Difference Engine round large central wheels led to the most extended prospects. The whole of arithmetic now appeared within the grasp of mechanism.

A vague glimpse even of an Analytical Engine at length opened out, and I pursued with enthusiasm the shadowy vision.

The drawings and the experiments were of the most costly kind. Draftsmen of the highest order were necessary to economize the labour of my own head; whilst skilled workmen were required to execute the experimental machinery to which I was obliged constantly to have recourse.

Under these circumstances I took into consideration the plan of advancing his salary to one guinea per day. Whilst this was in abeyance, I consulted my venerable surviving parent. When I had fully explained the circumstances, my excellent mother replied: “

My dear son, you have advanced far in the accomplishment of a great object, which is worthy of your ambition.

You are capable of completing it. My advice is—pursue it, even if it should oblige you to live on bread and cheese.”

I referred back to the day on which I had made that most important step, and asked him if he recollected it.

His reply was that he perfectly remembered the circumstance; for that on retiring to my library, he seriously thought that my intellect was beginning to become deranged.

The reader may perhaps be curious to know how I spent the rest of that remarkable day.

Having enjoyed the society of Hallam, of Rogers, and of some few others of that delightful circle, I retired, and joined one or perhaps two much more extensive reunions.

Having thus forgotten science, and enjoyed society for four or five hours, I returned home.

About one o’clock I was asleep in my bed, and thus continued for the next five hours.

Every set of cards made for any formula will at any future time recalculate that formula with whatever constants may be required.

Thus the Analytical Engine will possess a library of its own.

Every set of cards once made will at any future time reproduce the calculations for which it was first arranged. The numerical value of its constants may then be inserted.

Now it is obvious that no finite machine can include infinity. It is also certain that no question necessarily involving infinity can ever be converted into any other in which the idea of infinity under some shape or other does not enter.

It is impossible to construct machinery occupying unlimited space; but it is possible to construct finite machinery, and to use it through unlimited time.

It is this substitution of the infinity of time for the infinity of space which I have made use of, to limit the size of the engine and yet to retain its unlimited power.

Thus it appears that the whole of the conditions which enable a finite machine to make calculations of unlimited extent are fulfilled in the Analytical Engine. The means I have adopted are uniform.

I have converted the infinity of space, which was required by the conditions of the problem, into the infinity of time.

The means I have employed are in daily use in the art of weaving patterns. It is accomplished by systems of cards punched with various holes strung together to any extent which may be demanded.

The extension of analysis is so rapid, its domain so unlimited, and so many inquirers are entering into its fields, that a variety of new symbols have been introduced, formed on no common principles. Many of these are merely new ways of expressing well-known functions.

Unless some philosophical principles are generally admitted as the basis of all notation, there appears a great probability of introducing the confusion of Babel into the most accurate of all languages.

A few months ago I turned back to a paper in the Philosophical Transactions, 1844, to examine some analytical investigations of great interest by an author who has thought deeply on the subject.

This rule reduced the number of competitors to a very few. Although I had had some experience as to the mode in which medals were awarded, and therefore valued them accordingly,

I was simple enough to expect that the Council of the Royal Society would not venture upon a fraud on the very first occasion of exercising the royal liberality.

I had also another motive for taking a ticket in this philosophical lottery of medals.

This portion of wall was afterwards filled up by a vast oilcloth. Other large portions of wall, to the amount of thousands of square feet, were given up to other oilcloths, and to numberless carpets.

It is evident the Royal Commissioners were much better qualified to judge of furniture for the feet than of furniture for the head.

I was myself frequently asked why I did not employ a person to explain the Difference Engine. In reply to some of my friends, I inquired whether, when they purchased a carriage, they expected the builder to pay the wages of their coachman.

I was myself frequently asked why I did not employ a person to explain the Difference Engine. In reply to some of my friends,

I inquired whether, when they purchased a carriage, they expected the builder to pay the wages of their coachman.

But my greatest difficulty was with foreigners; no explanation I could devise, and I tried many, appeared at all to satisfy their minds. The thing seemed to them entirely incomprehensible.

… means of finding the longitude—which had recently caused to be computed and published at considerable expense an entirely new set of lunar Tables should not have availed itself at any cost of mechanical means of computing and stereotyping such Tables, seemed entirely beyond their comprehension.

At last they asked me whether the Commissioners were bêtes. I assured them that the only one with whom I was personally acquainted certainly was not.

When hard pressed by difficult questions, I thought it my duty as an Englishman to save my country’s character, even at the expense of my own.

At last they asked me whether the Commissioners were bêtes. I assured them that the only one with whom I was personally acquainted certainly was not.

When hard pressed by difficult questions, I thought it my duty as an Englishman to save my country’s character, even at the expense of my own.

So on one occasion I suggested to my unsatisfied friends that Commissioners were usually selected from the highest class of society, and that possibly four out of five had never heard of my name.

Our host now introduced me to Count Strzelecki, opposite to whom I was then sitting. After expressing my pleasure at the introduction,

I told the Count that he might safely assure his friends in the Celestial Empire that it was in every sense of the word an out-of-pocket machine.

At last the Commissioners were moved, not to supply the deficiency themselves, but to address the Government, to whom the Difference Engine belonged, to send somebody to explain it.

It has been urged, in extenuation of the conduct of these Commissioners, that their duty as guardians of the funds entrusted to them, and of the interests of the Guarantors, compelled them to practise a rigid economy.

Rigid economy is to be respected only when it is under the control of judgment, not of favouritism.

If the machinery for making arithmetical calculations which was placed at the disposal of the Commissioners had been properly arranged, it might have been made at once a source of high gratification to the public and even of profit to the Exhibition.

Captain Fowke, an officer of engineers, whose high order of architectural talent became afterwards so well known to the public, and whose whole time and services were retained and paid for by the country, was employed to make a design for the Exhibition Building.

The Commissioners approved of this design, which comprised two lofty domes, uniting in themselves the threefold inconvenience of being ugly, useless, and expensive.

They then proceeded to pay him five thousand pounds for the job. This system of awarding large sums of money to certain favoured public officers who are already paid for their services by liberal salaries seems to be a growing evil.

Though the steam-hammer can crack the coating without injuring the kernel of the filbert it drops upon—the admirable precision of its gigantic power could never be demonstrated by exhausting its energy upon an empty nutshell.

Peace, then, to their memory, aptly enshrined in unknown characters within the penetralia of the temple of oblivion.

These celebrities may there at last console themselves in the enjoyment of one enviable privilege denied to them during their earthly career—exemption from the daily consciousness of being “found out.”

I then asked him what he thought it was. He answered, “An engraving!” On which I asked, “Of what kind?” To this he replied, “Line-engraving, to be sure!” I drew him a little nearer. He then mentioned another style of engraving.

At last, having placed Wilkie close to the portrait, he said, after a considerable pause, “Can it be lithography?”

A splendid collection of arms from Afghanistan, recently sent to me from India by Sir Edward Ryan, was lying on the tables in one of the rooms we passed through.

The Duke was evidently taken by surprise. He paused for a moment or two, and then said—

“Well, I don’t know exactly how it was; but I think that if any unexpected circumstance occurred in the midst of a battle, which deranged its whole plan, I could perhaps organize another plan more quickly than most of them.”

This strongly confirms the view of the Duke of Wellington’s character given in the preceding pages.

He told me he would teach me how to live forever; for which I thanked him in a compliment after his own style, rather than in mine.

I answered, “Only embalm me in your poetry, and it is done.”

Mr. Rogers invited me to breakfast with him the next morning, when he would communicate the receipt. We were alone, and I enjoyed a very entertaining breakfast. The receipt consisted mainly of cold ablutions and the frequent use of the flesh brush. Mr.

Rogers, that you and I should make such a very different use of the faculty of imagination. When I go to the house of a friend in the country, and unexpectedly remain for the night, having no nightcap, I should naturally catch cold.

But by tying a bit of packthread tightly round my head, I go to sleep imagining that I have a nightcap on; consequently I catch no cold at all.

” This sally produced much amusement in all around, who supposed I had improvised it; but, odd as it may appear, it is a practice I have often resorted to. Mr.

My next neighbour at dinner asked me if I thought it probable.

I replied, that there was no absurdity a young Englishman would not occasionally commit.

One morning Herschel and I called on Laplace, who spoke to us of various English works on mathematical subjects. Amongst others, he mentioned with approbation, “Un ouvrage de vous deux.” We were both quite at a loss to know to what work he referred.

In one of my visits to Paris, at a period when beards had become fashionable amongst a certain class of my countrymen, I met Biot.

After our first greeting, looking me full in the face, he said, “My dear friend, you are the best shaved man in Europe.”

At a later period I took with me to Paris the complete drawings of Difference Engine No. 2. As soon as I had hung them up round my own apartments to explain them to my friends I went to the College de France, where M.

I inquired of the servant who opened the door after the state of M. Biot’s health, which was admitted to be feeble. I then asked whether he was well enough to see an old friend. Biot himself had heard the latter part of this conversation.

Coming into the passage he seized my hand and said “My dear friend, I would see you even if I were dying.”

One of the most remarkable characteristics of Humboldt’s mind was, that he not merely loved and pursued science for its own sake, but that he derived pleasure from assisting with his information and advice any other inquirer, however humble, who might need it.

A committee was therefore appointed to make experiment by dining successively at each of the three or four hotels competing for the honour of providing a table d’hôte for the savans.

Humboldt put me on that committee, remarking, that an Englishman always appreciates a good dinner.

The committee performed their agreeable duty in a manner quite satisfactory to themselves, and I hope, also, to the digestions of the Naturforschers.

The tide was rapidly carrying me down the river; my own exertions alone would have made me revolve in a small circle, consequently I was obliged to swim in a spiral.

It was very difficult to calculate the curve I was describing upon the surface of the water, and still more so to know at what point, if at any, I might hope to reach its banks again.

I became very much fatigued by my efforts, and endeavoured to relieve myself for a time by resuming the vertical position.

I have never been so fortunate as to be conscious of having experienced the least shock of an earthquake, although, when a town had been destroyed in Ischia I hastened on from Rome in the hope of getting a slight shake.

My passion was disappointed, so I consoled myself by a flirtation with a volcano.

The situation of my apartments during my residence at Naples enabled me constantly to see the cone of Vesuvius, and the continual projections of matter from its crater.

The most gratifying remark to me, however, amongst the many things in it to which he referred with approbation, was the expression he applied to it as a whole. “Sir,” said my new friend, “that book made me think.”

To make a man think for himself is doing him far higher service than giving him much instruction.

I now told my new friend that I had studied a little the effects of combinations, and also the results of cooperative shops, and that I was very anxious to add to my stock of information upon both subjects, but particularly on the latter.

I now began to moralize.

Blown upon by a hundred horsepower, I sympathised with Disraeli refrigerated by his friends.

Turning from that painful contemplation, I was calmed by the freshness of the breeze. The action of the pumps, the coolness of the place and of the time, for it was evening, recalled to my recollection M⸺ M⸺;

I was, however, much gratified when I found that it was precisely the plan I had previously described in my own unpublished pamphlet.

Deciphering is, in my opinion, one of the most fascinating of arts, and I fear I have wasted upon it more time than it deserves.

I practised it in its simplest form when I was at school. The bigger boys made ciphers, but if I got hold of a few words, I usually found out the key. The consequence of this ingenuity was occasionally painful:

I practised it in its simplest form when I was at school. The bigger boys made ciphers, but if I got hold of a few words, I usually found out the key.

The consequence of this ingenuity was occasionally painful: the owners of the detected ciphers sometimes thrashed me, though the fault really lay in their own stupidity.

There is a kind of maxim amongst the craft of decipherers (similar to one amongst the locksmiths), that every cipher can be deciphered.

I am myself inclined to think that deciphering is an affair of time, ingenuity, and patience; and that very few ciphers are worth the trouble of unravelling them.

One of the most singular characteristics of the art of deciphering is the strong conviction possessed by every person, even moderately acquainted with it, that he is able to construct a cipher which nobody else can decipher.

I have also observed that the cleverer the person, the more intimate is his conviction. In my earliest study of the subject I shared in this belief, and maintained it for many years.

One of the most singular characteristics of the art of deciphering is the strong conviction possessed by every person, even moderately acquainted with it, that he is able to construct a cipher which nobody else can decipher.

I have also observed that the cleverer the person, the more intimate is his conviction.

In my earliest study of the subject I shared in this belief, and maintained it for many years.

They possess an immense power of doing good—a power of making the law respected, not by its punishments, but by their own kindliness of manner and thoughtful consideration for the feelings of those brought into close contact with them.

Plain common sense, a kind heart, and, above all, the feelings of a thorough gentleman, are invaluable qualities in a magistrate.

They give dignity to the court over which he presides, as well as an example which will be insensibly followed by all its officers.

I was never particularly devoted to theatrical representations.

Tragedy I disliked, and comedy, which I enjoyed, frequently excited my feelings more than the dignity of the philosophic character sanctioned. In fact, I could not stand the reconciliation scenes.

I did, however, occasionally, in one or two rare instances, assist in a tableau.

My transit through the dark, subterranean abyss to my own world above was rapid. I soon rejoined my companions, who congratulated me on what they represented as my “undeserved escape:” kindly hoping that I might be equally fortunate upon some future occasion.

Presence of mind frequently arises from having previously considered a variety of possible events.

I had never contemplated such a situation, and have often asked myself and others what should have been my conduct, in case I had not escaped from my satanic companions; but no satisfactory conclusion has yet presented itself.

I tried to reassure him; and to show that I apprehended no danger from fire, added, that I should myself be present every night.

Mr. Lumley remarked that if the house were burnt his customers would also be burnt with it. This certainly was a valid objection, for though he could have insured the building, he could not have insured his audience.

Remembering my able coadjutors in that contest, I had little doubt that a good explanation existed; so the next time I met one of them I mentioned the circumstance. He at once admitted the fact, and said,

“We knew perfectly well that the man’s arm was broken; but our man, whom we paired off against him, had no vote.”

He then added, “We were afraid to tell you of our success.” To which I replied, “You acted with great discretion.”

If skilfully managed, you may safely depend upon their becoming the warmest friends of your own. Their enthusiasm can be easily stimulated: their zeal in the cause may shame some of your own lukewarm friends into greater earnestness.

Men will always give themselves tenfold more trouble to crush a man obnoxious to their hatred than they will take to serve their most favoured ally.

When I have been chairman of an election committee I have found it advantageous to commence my duties early in the morning, and to remain until late at night. There is always something to be done for the advancement of the cause.

My own share in elections has generally been in more serious departments. I remember, however, a very harmless squib which I believed equally amused both parties, and which, I was subsequently informed, was concocted in Mr. Cavendish’s committee-room.

High mathematical knowledge is by no means a very great qualification in a candidate for the House of Commons, nor is the absence of it any disparagement.

In the contest to which I refer, the late Mr. Goulburn was opposed to Mr. Cavendish. The following paragraph appeared in the Morning Post:—

He also assured me, if I decided on offering my services to the constituency, that he should have great pleasure in giving me every support in his power. In reply, I cordially thanked him for his generous offer, but declined the proposed honour.

In fact, I was not peculiarly desirous of wasting my time for the benefit of my country.

The constituency of Finsbury had already expressed their opinion that Mr. Wakley and Mr. Thomas Duncombe were fitter than myself to represent them in Parliament, and in that decision I most cordially concurred.

“Poor man!” I cannot pity him. His maxim is, that knowledge is power; and he thinks his knowledge is all that can be known.

He has to learn that our knowledge, also, is power; and that we know how to use it too.

There, Lady Selina, so much for your philosophic friend. Poor Turnstile! What a business he has made of it. Here is the Times, with the report of the Shoreditch election meeting. Turnstile has no chance. The Scotchmen coalesce; Highway none of us can think of;

About a quarter of a century ago the Court of Turin had the reputation of being the most formal and punctilious of any in Europe.

It was dull to the diplomatic officials, who were doomed like planets to circulate around it, though not without interest to the inquiring traveller, whose orbit, like that of a comet, passed through its atmosphere only at distant intervals.

In 1840 I received a gratifying invitation to meet the élite of the science of Italy at Turin. On my arrival I immediately took measures to pay my respects in the usual manner to the sovereign of the country.

At last I gave up the idea of grabbing at the flying sheets, and confined my attention to seizing on the fallen ones. While still on my knees, I suddenly felt an obstacle presented to my right foot.

On looking round I perceived that the heel of royalty had come into contact with the toe of philosophy.

A comic yet kindly smile beamed upon the countenance of the King, whilst an irrepressible but not irreverent one, lightened up my own.

A certain amount of distrust must therefore almost always exist in his mind. But this habitual distrust applies less to foreigners than to his own subjects.

The comet which passes through the thick atmosphere of a Court may be temporarily disturbed in its path though it may never revisit it again.

Perhaps the first element of my success was, that having been the victim of shyness in early life, I could sympathise with those who still suffered under that painful complaint.

Perhaps the first element of my success was, that having been the victim of shyness in early life, I could sympathise with those who still suffered under that painful complaint.

Another reason may have been, that I never stated more than I really knew. This is, I believe, a very unusual practice in Courts of every kind; and when it happens to be obviously sincere, it commands great influence.

There might be yet another reason:—it was well known that I had nothing to ask for—to expect—or to desire.

In studying the evidence given upon the inquiries into the various lamentable accidents which have occurred upon railways, I have been much struck by the discordance of that evidence as to the speed with which the engines were travelling when they took place.

Even the best and most unbiased judgment ought not to be trusted when mechanical evidence can be produced.

The first rule I propose is, that—

… work, the fracture inevitably occurred at the place intended for it, and my first notice of the fact often arose from the blow the fragment made when suddenly drawn by a strong rope up to the under side of the floor of our experimental carriage.

I have a very strong opinion that the adoption of such mechanical registrations would add greatly to the security of railway travelling, because they would become the unerring record of facts, the incorruptible witnesses of the immediate antecedents of any catastrophe.

I have, however, little expectation of their adoption, unless Directors can be convinced that the knowledge derived from them would, by pointing out incipient defects, and by acting as a check upon the vigilance of all their officers, considerably diminish the repairs and working expenses …

On a careful retrospect of the last dozen years of my life, I have arrived at the conclusion that I speak within limit when I state that one-fourth part of my working power has been destroyed by the nuisance against which I have protested.

Twenty-five percent is rather too large an additional income-tax upon the brain of the intellectual workers of this country, to be levied by permission of the Government, and squandered upon its most worthless classes.

The effect of a uniform and continuous sound, in distracting the attention or in disturbing intellectual pursuits, is almost insensible. Those who reside near a waterfall—even Niagara—have their organs soon seasoned and adapted to its monotony.

The effect of a uniform and continuous sound, in distracting the attention or in disturbing intellectual pursuits, is almost insensible. Those who reside near a waterfall—even Niagara—have their organs soon seasoned and adapted to its monotony.

It is the change from quietness to noise, or from one kind of noise to another, which instantly distracts the attention.

It would be equally distracted by the reverse—by the sudden change from the hum of the busy world to the stillness of the desert.

These placards they stuck up in the windows of their little shops, at intervals from Edgware Road to Tottenham Court Road.

Some of them attempted verse and thought it poetry; though the only part really imaginative was their prose statements.

Unfortunately for my comfort, a few years ago, Mr. X⸺, one of the magistrates of Marylebone Office, was succeeded by Mr. Y⸺. Now the taste of the new magistrate, like that of his predecessor, was favourable to the Italian organ:

As upon all other subjects, men differ upon street nuisances. An ancient philosopher divided all mankind into two sections, namely, fools and philosophers; and, unhappily for the race, the one cannot enjoy his whistle except at the expense of the other.

I was once asked by an astute and sarcastic magistrate whether I seriously believed that a man’s brain would be injured by listening to an organ; my reply was, “Certainly not;” for the obvious reason that no man having brain ever listened to street musicians.

“The opera, like the pillory, may be said To nail the ears down, but expose the head.”

One of the principles of discovery in many subjects is, to generalize from the individual case up to the species, and thence to descend to other individual instances.

Puns are detestable.

The greater number of them depend on the double meaning of the same word, or on the similar pronunciation of words differently spelt. The following may serve as an example of a triple pun:—

Holding up her fan, she whispered, “My dear Mr. Babbage, I think your Silver Lady is rather slightly clad tonight; shall I lend her a petticoat?” to which I replied,

“My dear Lady Morgan, I am much indebted for your very considerate offer, but I fear you have not got one to spare.”

This retort was not a pun, but merely a “double-entendre.” It might mean either that her Ladyship had on invisibles, but not enough to be able to spare one:

In this chapter I propose to throw together a few suggestions, which may assist in rendering a tour successful for its objects and agreeable in its reminiscences.

Money is the fuel of travelling.

I can give the traveller a few hints how to get money, although I never had any skill in making it myself.

It was reprinted by the British Association at Cambridge in 1833, and also at Brussels in the Travaux du Congress Général de Statistique, Brussels, 1853.

I have so frequently been mortified by having the utterly-undeserved reputation of knowing everything that I was led to inquire into the probable grounds of the egregious fallacy.

The most frequent symptom was an address of this kind:—“Now Mr. Babbage, will you, who know everything, kindly explain to me—.” Perhaps the thing whose explanation was required might be the metre of some ancient Chinese poem:

yet these points fulfil by then positions the law of the curve as perfectly as any of those which, by their juxtaposition and continuity, form any of its branches.

Miracles, therefore, are not the breach of established laws, but they are the very circumstances that indicate the existence of far higher laws, which at the appointed time produce their pre-intended results.

In 1835, the British Association visited Dublin. I had been anxious to promote this visit, from political as well as scientific motives. I had several invitations to the residences of my friends in that hospitable country;

I enjoyed them both, being fortunately quite unconscious that every eye was examining the artistic and aesthetic garment with which I had been so recently invested. I thus acquired for a time the character of a dandy of the first water.

It has not unfrequently been my fate in life to have gained a character for worth or worthlessness upon grounds quite as absurd, which I have afterwards seldom taken the trouble to explain.

The Dean, however, quickly saw through the outer covering, and before the meeting was over I felt that a friendship had commenced which time could only strengthen.

The works of the Creator, ever present to our senses, give a living and perpetual testimony of his power and goodness far surpassing any evidence transmitted through human testimony.

The testimony of man becomes fainter at every stage of transmission, whilst each new inquiry into the works of the Almighty gives to us more exalted views of his wisdom, his goodness, and his power.

When I was between sixteen and seventeen years of age, I heard, or rather I attended, for the first time, to the words of the Athanasian Creed. I felt the utmost disgust at the direct contradiction in terms which its words implied;

In fact, memory seems to be the only faculty which must of necessity be preserved in order to render a future state possible.

If memory be absolutely destroyed, our personal identity is lost.

Further reflection suggests that in a future state we may, as it were, awake to the recollection that, previously to this our present life, we existed in some former state, possibly in many former ones, and that the then state of existence may have been …

Another question connected with this subject offers still greater difficulty. Man possesses five sources of knowledge through his senses.

He proudly thinks himself the highest work of the Almighty Architect; but it is quite possible that he may be the very lowest.

If other animals possess senses of a different nature from ours, it can scarcely be possible that we could ever be aware of the fact.

… the midst of these discussions the process of jellification was advancing more and more rapidly, and in ten thousand years the whole of infinite fluidity throughout all space, with all its myriads of Beings embedded in it, was transformed into this new form of space.

From the description conveyed to me by the Spirit, I should infer that the whole of what we call infinite space had now become more nearly like blancmange than any other sub-aerial substance.

(c.) After a state of repose of many hundred thousand years a new catastrophe occurred. Space became too large even for itself. It then suffered, for many hundred thousand years, enormous compression.

Whenever a man can get hold of numbers, they are invaluable: if correct, they assist in informing his own mind, but they are still more useful in deluding the minds of others.

Numbers are the masters of the weak, but the slaves of the strong.

I therefore earnestly pressed for more exact information as to the possible number of years; but it appeared beyond the Spirit’s power to estimate it, even within a few millions.

The whole vision was now very clearly explained. The verger had evidently retired to the most commodious pew to eat his dinner, and had inadvertently left the small bit of cheese upon the very spot I had selected for my temporary repose.

It was clear that my Spirit had been put, en rapport, with the soul of a mite, one of the most cultivated of his race.

If the reader will glance over the following brief explanation, he will be fully convinced that my solution of this vision is the true one.

After receiving the congratulations of my friends upon my great musical taste, I informed them how easily that reputation had been acquired.

Such are the feeble bases on which many a public character rests.

During my residence with my Oxford tutor, whilst I was working by myself on mathematics, I occasionally arrived at conclusions which appeared to me to be new, but which from time to time I afterwards found were already well known.

But if a manufacturer insist on employing one man to make the whole needle, he must pay at the rate of five pounds a week for every portion of the labour bestowed upon it.

Besides the usual elements which contribute to constitute the price of anything, there exists another which varies greatly in different articles.

It is this—

The first and great cause of its discontinuance was the inordinately extravagant demands of the person whom I had employed to construct it for the Government. Even this might, perhaps, by great exertions and sacrifices, have been surmounted.

There is, however, a limit beyond which human endurance cannot go.

If I survive some few years longer, the Analytical Engine will exist, and its works will afterwards be spread over the world.

The great principles on which the Analytical Engine rests have been examined, admitted, recorded, and demonstrated. The mechanism itself has now been reduced to unexpected simplicity.

Half a century may probably elapse before anyone without those aids which I leave behind me, will attempt so unpromising a task.

If, unwarned by my example, any man shall undertake and shall succeed in really constructing an engine embodying in itself the whole of the executive department of mathematical analysis upon different principles or by simpler mechanical means, I have no fear of leaving my reputation …

This also has been described in a former chapter. I look upon it as one of the most important additions I have made to human knowledge.

It has placed the construction of machinery in the rank of a demonstrative science.

The day will arrive when no school of mechanical drawing will be thought complete without teaching it.

This also has been described in a former chapter. I look upon it as one of the most important additions I have made to human knowledge. It has placed the construction of machinery in the rank of a demonstrative science.

The day will arrive when no school of mechanical drawing will be thought complete without teaching it.

The great object of all my inquiries has ever been to endeavour to ascertain those laws of thought by which man makes discoveries.

It has placed the construction of machinery in the rank of a demonstrative science. The day will arrive when no school of mechanical drawing will be thought complete without teaching it.

The great object of all my inquiries has ever been to endeavour to ascertain those laws of thought by which man makes discoveries.

It was by following out one of the principles which I had arrived at that I was led to the system of occulting numerical lights for distinguishing lighthouses and for night signals at sea, which I published about twelve years ago.

Whenever we meet with any defect in the means we are contriving for the accomplishing a given object, that defect should be noted and reserved for future consideration, and inquiry should be made—

Whether that which is a defect as regards the object in view may not become a source of advantage in some totally different subject.

I had for a long series of years been watching the progress of electric, magnetic, and other lights of that order, with the view of using them for domestic purposes; but their want of uniformity seemed to render them hopeless for that object.

I was much impressed by the want of easy communication between stranded vessels and those on shore who might rescue them.

I can even now scarcely believe it credible that the very simple means I am about to mention has not been adopted years ago.

A list of about a hundred questions, relating to directions and inquiries required to be communicated between the crew of a stranded ship and those on shore who wish to aid it, would, I am told, be amply sufficient for such purposes.

A few of those who had considerable acquaintance with mathematical science allowed the possibility of machinery being capable of such work; but they most stoutly denied the possibility of contriving such machinery on account of the myriads of combinations which even the simplest games included.

On the first part of my inquiry I soon arrived at a demonstration that every game of skill is susceptible of being played by an automaton.

Further consideration showed that if any position of the men upon the board were assumed (whether that position were possible or impossible), then if the automaton could make the first move rightly, he must be able to win the game, always supposing that, under the …

A friend, to whom I had at an early period communicated the idea, entertained great hopes of its pecuniary success.

When it became known that an automaton could beat not merely children but even papa and mamma at a child’s game, it seemed not unreasonable to expect that every child who heard of it would ask mamma to see it.

On the other hand, every mamma, and some few papas, who heard of it would doubtless take their children to so singular and interesting a sight.

I shall now mention briefly several of those appointments for which

I had the vanity to suppose myself qualified, and the simplicity to believe that fitness for the office was of the slightest use without interest to get the appointment.

1. In the early part of 1816 the Professorship of Mathematics at the East India College at Haileybury became vacant. The salary, I believe, was £500 a-year. I became a candidate, and had strong recommendations from Ivory and Playfair.

I was informed that it was usual for the candidates to call on the Directors. I did so. One of them was an honest man, for he was kind enough to tell me the truth. He said,

“If you have interest, you will get it; if not, you will not succeed.”

2. In 1819 the Professorship of Mathematics at Edinburgh became vacant by the death of Playfair, and the succession of Professor Leslie to his chair. I immediately became a candidate, and received testimony of my fitness from Lacroix, Biot, and Laplace.

Such belong to the animal, and are never obliterated, though they may occasionally be concealed by the ermine of office or the robe of state.

Self-interest is the great lever of society; and though the patriot profess to sacrifice it for the public good, or the cynic affect to despise its influence as opposed to his philosophy, both these may claim our respect, but neither should be permitted to deceive us.

A Minister who professes to cast off the attributes of humanity is either a victim of delusion who has succeeded in deceiving himself, or a knave who is bent upon deceiving others.

On looking at the conclusion for the well-known signature of my friend Arago, I found another name which I could not read. I therefore concluded that some wag had played me a trick.

I however doubted whether the joke was intended to hit me or the Academy of Sciences.

Having left the paper on my table, I returned to my experiments. After dinner I took up the neglected document, and then for the first time perceived that it professed to be from the Academy of Moral Sciences.