Chapter XXVI: Section XI: Character of Linnaeus

Specific Character of Linnaeus--Remarks of
Condorcet--Linnaeus's Appearance and bodily Conformation--His
Habits, mental Characteristics, Sociality, domestic
Relations, Parsimony, and Generosity--His Forbearance
towards his Opponents, Inaptitude for the Acquisition of
Languages, Love of Fame, moral Conduct, religious
Feelings--Character of his Writings--Remarks on his
Classifications.

The character of Linnaeus, marked as it is by features which the least reflective mind can hardly fail to distinguish as indicative of qualities that seldom present themselves in so high a degree of development, is not difficult to be appreciated.

The method which he employed for characterising the genera and species of animals and plants, he applied to himself as an individual, and the description which he gave of his own person and mind is too remarkable to be omitted here. It is this:--

"Occipite gibbo, ad suturam lambdoideam transverse depresso, pili in infantia nivei, dein fusci, in senio canescentes. Oculi brunnei, vivaces, acutissimi, visu eximio. Frons in senio rugosa. Verruca obliterata in bucca dextra et alia in nasi dextro latere. Dentes debiles, cariosi ab odontalgia haereditaria in juventute.

"Animus promptus, mobilis ad iram et laetitiam et maerores, cito placabatur; hilaris in juventute, nec in senio torpidus, in rebus agendis promptissimus; incessu levis, agilis.

"Curas domesticas committebat uxori, ipse naturae productis unice intentus; incepta opera ad finem perduxit, nec in itinere respexit."

To convert this aphoristic description into elegant English, such as is employed by writers of the Buffon school,--men of many words and few facts,--would be to destroy its peculiar beauty, which can only be retained in an appropriate translation:--

"The head of Linnaeus had a remarkable prominence behind, and was transversely depressed at the lambdoid suture. His hair was white in infancy, afterwards brown, in old age grayish. His eyes were hazel, lively, and penetrating; their power of vision exquisite. His forehead was furrowed in old age. He had an obliterated wart on the right cheek, and another on the corresponding side of the nose. His teeth were unsound, and at an early age decayed from hereditary toothach. His mind was quick, easily excited to anger, joy, or sadness; but its affections soon subsided. In youth he was cheerful, in age not torpid, in business most active. He walked with a light step, and was distinguished for agility. The management of his domestic affairs he committed to his wife, and concerned himself solely with the productions of nature. Whatever he began he brought to an end, and on a journey he never looked back."

"Some time before his death," says Condorcet in his Eloge, "Linnaeus traced in Latin, on a sheet of paper, his character, his manners, and his external conformation, imitating in this respect several great men. He accuses himself of impatience, of an excessive vivacity, and even of a little jealousy. In this sketch he has pushed modesty and truth to their utmost; and they who have known that great naturalist, justly charge him with severity towards himself. There are moments when the most virtuous person sees nothing but his own failings. After describing universal nature in all its details, it may be said that the picture would have remained incomplete had he not painted himself. At the same time it is vexing that he should have painted himself in colours so unfavourable. Judging him by his conduct, no one could have fancied the existence of these defects, nor could they have been known unless he had revealed them." Yet, if the damnatory revelation which he made be, as M. Fee asserts, nothing more than the above sketch, it would appear that he has half in playfulness presented a technical character of himself, such as he would have written of a bear or a baboon. It presents indications of candour and self-reproach, but certainly is, on the whole, much more laudatory than otherwise.

With respect to bodily conformation, he was of a stature rather below the ordinary standard, as has been the case with several very ambitious, active, and successful men. His temperament was the sanguineous, with a proportion of the nervous; whence he was lively, excitable, full of hope, and of great ardour; but since he was in no degree melancholic, some physiologists might puzzle themselves to discover where he obtained his indefatigable industry, his perseverance, his obstinate straightforwardness, and the tenacity with which he held all opinions which he had once received. In youth and middle age he was light, but muscular; whence his personal agility and energy; but as he advanced in years he became rather full, although with little diminution of his corporeal, and still less of his mental activity. In walking he stooped a little, having contracted that habit from his constant search for plants and other objects. He was moderate in his diet, regulated his mode of living by strict method, and by temperance preserved his energies, that he might devote them to the cultivation of his favourite sciences. His hours of sleep were in summer from ten to five, in winter from nine to six.

Punctual and orderly in all his arrangements, he underwent labours which to most men would have been impracticable. Yet the period of study he always limited by the natural flow of his spirits, and whenever he became fatigued, or felt indisposed for labour, he laid aside his task. Some persons have accounted for the immense extent of his works by simply allowing him industry and perseverance; but they who think so are not aware, that these qualities are generally inseparable from genius of the highest order.

In the evenings he frequently indulged in social intercourse with his friends, when he gave free vent to his lively humour; never for a moment enveloping himself in that reserve with which men of little minds conceal their real want of dignity. Whether delivering a solemn oration at the university, or familiarly conversing with the learned, or dancing in a barn with his pupils, he was respected and esteemed alike.

It is perhaps strange that, although of this joyous temperament, he had not a musical ear, having been in this respect like a man whose character was in almost every point very different, but not less truly estimable,--that great master of moral wisdom, Dr Johnson. It would even seem that he had a kind of antipathy to certain combinations of harmonious sound, although it is clear that he enjoyed the lively song of the thrush and skylark, which he mentions in his Lapland journey as affording him delight.

With respect to his domestic relations, it is agreed by his biographers that he manifested a very amiable character. He was a faithful and tender husband, although his consort possessed few estimable qualities; a fond and indulgent father, although his children obtained a much smaller share of his solicitude than his garden and museum. His wife, who, as we have seen, took charge of all his domestic arrangements, is described as having been of a masculine appearance, selfish, domineering, and destitute of accomplishments. Unable to hold any share in rational conversation, she had little desire to encourage it in others; and as her parsimony was still greater than her husband's, we may suppose that her mode of management was not very conducive to the comfort of her guests. As a mother being incapable of estimating the advantages of proper training, her daughters were in a great measure left destitute of the polite acquirements becoming their station in society; and the father being, as he says, "naturae productis unice intentus," did not trouble himself about uninteresting affairs of this nature. The result, so far as regards his son, we shall see in a subsequent section.

It is generally acknowledged that Linnaeus was more addicted to the love of gold than becomes a philosopher, and that his style of living was by no means equal to his income. "For my own part," says his pupil Fabricius, "I can easily excuse him for having been a little too fond of money, when I consider those extremes of poverty which so long and so heavily overwhelmed him. It may also be said in his defence, that the parsimonious habits which he had contracted under the most pressing necessity remained with him ever after, and that he found it impossible to renounce them when he lived in the midst of abundance." This apology may perhaps suffice, especially when we find it asserted that his frugality never degenerated into avarice.

Towards his pupils he conducted himself with the most praiseworthy liberality. To those who were poor he remitted the fees due to him as professor, and even from the rich he on many occasions refused to receive any recompense. Dr Gieseke, when about to leave him in the autumn of 1771, pressed upon him a Swedish bank-note, as a remuneration for the trouble which he had taken in affording him instruction; but he was unwilling to accept it, and it was not till after the repeated entreaties of his pupil that he acceded to his request:--"Tell me candidly," said he, "if you are rich, and can afford it;--can you well spare this money on your return to Germany? If you can, give the note to my wife; but should you be poor, so help me God, I would not take a farthing from you!"--"To the praise of Linnaeus," says Mr Ehrhart, "I must farther own, notwithstanding his parsimony, that he neither would nor did accept a single penny as a fee for the lectures which he gave me. You are a Swiss," he once said to me, "and the only Swiss that visits me. I shall take no money of you, but feel a pleasure in telling you all that I know gratis."

His excitable temper not unfrequently betrayed him into expressions which indicated a great want of self-control; but if he was easily roused to anger, he was as speedily appeased. He was exceedingly pleasant in conversation, humorous, and fond of telling entertaining stories. Constant in his attachments, he was ever disposed to look with indulgence on the faults of his friends; and he was fortunate in the affection which his pupils manifested towards him. But it is said that he was equally tenacious of dislike towards his enemies, or those of whom he had formed an unfavourable opinion.

His opponents he treated with forbearance or contempt, and on no occasion engaged in controversy. In a letter to Haller he says,--"Our great example, Boerhaave, answered nobody whatever: I recollect his saying to me one day, 'You should never reply to any controversial writers; promise me that you will not.' I promised him accordingly, and have benefited very much by it." If he cherished animosity towards his adversaries, it certainly did not prevent him from expressing his esteem for their merits; and as dissimulation had no place in his character, he did not follow the example of those who by private misrepresentations undo the benefits conferred by public encomiums. "I am certain," says Murray, "that had his most unjust and most violent opponents heard him, they could not have refused him their esteem and affection."

No man ever excelled him in the discrimination of natural objects; nor is it necessary for us to enter upon any exposition of the excellencies of his mental constitution, as fitting him for the office which he assumed as legislator of natural history. Active, penetrating, sagacious, more conversant with nature than with books, yet not unacquainted with the labours of others, he succeeded in eliciting order from the chaotic confusion which he found prevailing in his favourite sciences. His memory, which was uncommonly vigorous, was, like his other faculties, devoted to natural history alone; and it was the first that suffered decay. When he was only fifty years of age it already exhibited symptoms of decline; and a few years before his death it was almost entirely extinguished. In the study of modern languages he had never made sufficient progress to enable him to express his ideas with fluency in any other than his native tongue. His intercourse with strangers was carried on in Latin, of which he had a competent knowledge, although in his letters he paid little attention to elegance, or even in some cases to grammatical accuracy. He used to say to his friends,--"Malo tres alapas a Prisciano, quam unam a Natura,--I would rather have three slaps from Priscian than one from Nature."

The love of fame was his predominant passion. It possessed his soul at an early age, strengthened as he advanced in years, and retained its hold to the last. "Famam extendere factis" was his favourite motto, and that which, when ennobled, he chose for his coat of arms. But his ambition was entirely confined to science, and never influenced his conduct towards the persons with whom he had intercourse, nor manifested itself by the assumption of superiority. Fond of praise, he was liberal in dispensing it to others; and, although nothing afforded him more pleasure than flattery, he was neither apt to boast of his merits, nor disinclined to extol those of his fellow-labourers.

We do not find any remarkable deviations in his general conduct from the straight path of morality. It is true, that in the affair of Rosen the impetuosity of his temper had nearly betrayed him into an act which would have stamped his memory with indelible disgrace; but if he exhibited some of the frailties and errors inseparable from humanity, it is neither our inclination to search them out, nor our province to pronounce judgment upon them. He has been accused of betraying a prurient imagination in the names which he gave to many objects, both in the vegetable and animal kingdoms. It is certain, that a more chastened taste would have enabled him to avoid offence in this matter; but neither in conversation nor in act has any moral delinquency been laid to his charge.

In all his writings there appears a deep feeling of reverence and gratitude towards the Supreme Being; and in the history of his life we find nothing which could lead us to suppose that such feelings were assumed for the occasion. Over the door of his room was inscribed,--"Innocui vivite, Numen adest,--Live in innocence, for God is present." His more important works he commences and ends with some passage from the Scriptures, expressive of the power, the glory, the beneficence of God, the creator and preserver of all things. Whenever, in his lectures or on his excursions, he found an opportunity of expatiating on these subjects, he embraced it with enthusiasm. "On these occasions," says one of his biographers, "his heart glowed with celestial fire, and his mouth poured forth torrents of admirable eloquence." Where is the naturalist, possessed of the true feelings of a man, who does not honour in his heart the being possessed of such a character! The sneer of the filthy sensualist, who, steeped in pollution, endeavours to persuade his turbid mind that all others are like himself; the scorn of the little puffed-up intellect, which, having traced the outline of some curious mechanism in nature, exults in the fancied independence of its own poor energies; the malice of the grovelling spirit, that, finding itself eclipsed by the splendour of superior talents, strives to obscure them by the aspersions of calumny,--what are they that they should influence our estimation of the character of this great man, who with his ardent piety and the devotion of his faculties to the glory of his Creator, is, amid all his imperfections, an object worthy of our love and esteem. And such he will remain, while the world endures, in the view of every enlightened admirer of the wonderful works of God.

His writings are characterized by extreme brevity, nervousness, and precision. He expresses in a dozen words what might be expanded into half as many sentences. His style certainly is not always pure, nor even on all occasions grammatically correct. He was more desirous to instruct than to entertain, and therefore his expressions are weighed but not ornamented. Yet no teacher ever excited such enthusiasm in his pupils; and since the world began has there been none who gave such an impulse to the progress of natural history. They who can sneer at such a man must be cold and selfish indeed. "The language of Linnaeus," says Cuvier, "is ingenious and singular. Its very singularity renders it attractive. His phraseology, and even his titles, are figurative; but his figures are in general highly expressive. With him, the various means by which Nature ensures the reproduction of plants are their nuptials; the changes in the position of their parts at night are their sleep; the periods of the year at which they flower form the calendar of Flora."

As an example of his manner, when treating of a subject not technically described, we may present his account of the plant to which he gave the name of Andromeda: "This most choice and beautiful virgin gracefully erects her long and shining neck (the peduncle), her face with its rosy lips (the corolla) far excelling the best pigment. She kneels on the ground with her feet bound (the lower part of the stem incumbent), surrounded with water, and fixed to a rock (a projecting clod), exposed to frightful dragons (frogs and newts). She bends her sorrowful face (the flower) towards the earth, stretches up her innocent arms (the branches) toward heaven, worthy of a better place and happier fate, until the welcome Perseus (summer), after conquering the monster, draws her out of the water and renders her a fruitful mother, when she raises her head (the fruit) erect." The analogy that gave rise to this fanciful description, which is contained in the Flora Lapponica, suggested itself to Linnaeus on his Lapland journey. "The Chamaedaphne of Buxbaum," says he, "was at this time in its highest beauty, decorating the marshy grounds in a most agreeable manner. The flowers are quite blood-red before they expand, but when full grown the corolla is of a flesh-colour. Scarcely any painter's art can so happily imitate the beauty of a fine female complexion; still less could any artificial colour upon the face itself bear a comparison with this lovely blossom. As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda as described by the poets; and the more I meditated upon their descriptions, the more applicable they seemed to the little plant before me; so that, if these writers had had it in view, they could scarcely have contrived a more apposite fable. Andromeda is represented by them as a virgin of most exquisite and unrivalled charms; but these charms remain in perfection only so long as she retains her virgin purity, which is also applicable to the plant, now preparing to celebrate its nuptials. This plant is always fixed on some little turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the sea, which bathed her feet, as the fresh water does the roots of the plant. Dragons and venomous serpents surrounded her, as toads and other reptiles frequent the abode of her vegetable prototype, and, when they pair in the spring, throw mud and water over its leaves and branches. As the distressed virgin cast down her blushing face through excessive affliction, so does the rosy-coloured flower hang its head, growing paler and paler till it withers away. Hence, as this plant forms a new genus, I have chosen for it the name of _Andromeda_."

"Botany may be compared to one of those plants which flower only once in a century. It first put forth some seed-leaves in the reign of Alexander. After the war of Mithridates, the victorious Romans transported it to Rome, when the root-leaves began to appear. Receiving no further cultivation, it ceased to grow. It was next carried from Italy to Arabia, where it remained until the twelfth century. It then languished in France during three centuries; its root-leaves began to wither, and the plant was ready to perish. Towards the sixteenth century, however, it yielded a slight flower (Caesalpinus), so frail that the gentlest breeze might seem sufficient to detach it from its slender stalk. This flower bore no fruit. Towards the seventeenth century, the stem, which had been so long without appearing, shot up to a great height; but its leaves were few, and no flower appeared. In the early spring of this happy period, however, when a gentle warmth had succeeded the frosts of winter, this stem yielded a fresh flower, to which succeeded a fruit (C. Bauhin) that nearly attained maturity. Soon after, this splendid stem was surrounded with numerous leaves and flowers."

These figurative descriptions, however, have no place in the more technical writings of Linnaeus, where, on the contrary, all is brief, clear, and precise; but, as we have already presented some specimens of these, it is unnecessary to make any additional remarks.

Notwithstanding the attacks that have been made on his mineralogical system, it is at least deserving of praise, as showing the practicability of arranging the objects belonging to this kingdom of nature according to strict method. In botany his merits were transcendent, and with the mention of that science his name is uniformly associated. He found it in a rude and unsettled state, and left it so admirably disposed, that the beauty and practical utility of his method recommended it to the cultivators of science in all countries. Nor were his labours in the animal kingdom less successful. The general principles of classification which he introduced, his invention of specific names, his improvements in nomenclature and terminology, and the wonderful precision of his descriptions, rendered the study of these sciences as pleasing and easy as it had previously been irksome and laborious.

All systems flourish and fade. The mineralogy of Linnaeus has perished; his zoology, cut down to the root, has sent forth a profusion of luxuriant shoots; and although his botany maintains as yet a strong claim upon the admiration of the lovers of nature, a fairer plant has sprung up beside it, which promises a richer harvest of golden fruits. But should the period ever arrive when all that belonged to him of mere system and technicology shall be obliterated, he will not the less be remembered as a bright luminary in the dark hemisphere of natural science, which served for a time to throw a useful light around, and led observers to surer paths of observation than had previously been known.