Lyell, no doubt, had exceptionally favourable opportunities. The eldest son of a wealthy man--who contentedly acquiesced in his seeking fame rather than fortune, and supplied him with the necessary funds--his time was his own, as he had not only enough for his ordinary wants, but also could afford to travel as much as he desired. His social position was sufficiently good to facilitate his access to those who had already attained to eminence. He was blessed with a sympathetic and helpful wife, and they had no children. Thus they were perfectly free, both in the disposal of their time at home and in their peregrinations abroad. Besides these things they both enjoyed good health. Lyell's constitution was not, indeed, so robust that he could take liberties; he had to be careful about "cakes and ale," and to lead a fairly regular life,[174] but by so doing he was able to be always in good condition for his work. His eyes, in fact, were his only trouble and who is there who has not got his own "thorn in the flesh"? Lyell also was happy in all his domestic relations. His letters indicate that all the family--on both sides--were on affectionate terms, and contain few references to anxieties and troubles, such as the sickness and death of those dear to him, until his life approached the period when such trials become inevitable. Thus free from the impediments which have beset many other men of marked ability, such as weak health and physical suffering, the wearing anxiety of an invalid wife or a sickly family, the harassing cares of pecuniary losses or of an insufficient income, Lyell had an exceptional chance. But other men have the same and do not use it; they are crippled by this burden or diverted by that allurement, and "might have been" too often becomes their epitaph. Lyell never faltered in the course which, comparatively early in life, he had marked out for himself. With that steady persistency and quiet energy which are characteristic of the Lowland Scot, he put aside all temptations and everything which threatened to interfere with his work. While neither recluse nor hermit, neither churlish nor unsociable, nay, while thoroughly enjoying witty and intellectual society, he allowed nothing to distract him from his main purpose. Convinced that there was a work which he could do, and a name which he could win, he was willing, for sake of this, to run risks and to make sacrifices. He did not indeed despise fame, but he never condescended to unworthy arts to obtain it; he held that the labourer was worthy of his hire, but with him it was always "the work first, and the wage second," whether that were coined gold or laurel wreath. He was singularly free from all petty jealousies, and ready to learn from all who could teach him anything, but he was no weakling, swayed by every breath of wind, for he reached his conclusions slowly and cautiously, and never stopped to ask whether they would be popular.