No one who reads these letters attentively, will be surprised at the young Cuvier’s taking eminent rank among the men of science in France; and Pfaff, on arriving in Paris six years afterwards, found his old fellow-student had become “a personage.” The change in Cuvier’s appearance was very striking. He was then at his maturity, and might pass for a handsome man. His shock of red hair was now cut and trimmed in Parisian style; his countenance beamed with health and satisfaction; his expression was lively and engaging; and although the slight tinge of melancholy which was natural to him had not wholly disappeared, yet the fire and vivacity of his genius overcame it. His dress was that of the fashion of the day, not without a little affectation. Yet his life was simple, and wholly devoted to science. He had a lodging in the Jardin des Plantes, and was waited on by an old housekeeper, like any other simple professor. On Pfaff’s subsequent visit, things were changed. Instead of the old housekeeper, the door was opened by a lackey in grand livery. Instead of asking for “Citizen Cuvier,” he inquired for Monsieur Cuvier; whereupon, the lackey politely asked, whether he wished to see M. le Baron Cuvier, or M. Fréderic, his brother? “I soon found where I was,” continues Pfaff. “It was the baron, separated from me by that immense interval of thirty years, and by those high dignities which an empire offers to the ambition of men.” He found the baron almost exclusively interested in politics, and scarcely giving a thought to science. The “preparations” and “injections” which Pfaff had brought with him from Germany, as a present to Cuvier, were scarcely looked at, and were set aside with an indifferent “that’s good,” and “very fine;” much to Pfaff’s distress, who doubtless thought the fate of the Martignac ministry an extremely small subject of interest compared with these injections of the lymphatics. But it is not my purpose to paint Cuvier in his later years. It is to the studies of his youth that I would call your attention, to read there, once again, the important lesson that nothing of any solid value can be achieved without entire devotion. Nothing is earned without sweat of the brow. Even the artist must labour intensely. What is called “inspiration” will create no works, but only irradiate works with felicitous flashes; and even inspiration mostly comes in moments of exaltation produced by intense work of the mind. In science, incessant and enlightened labour is necessary, even to the smallest success. Labour is not all; but without it, genius is nothing. With this homily, dear reader, may be closed our FIRST SERIES of Studies; to be resumed hereafter, let me hope, with as much willingness on your part as desire to interest you on mine. FOOTNOTES [5] See on this point what was said in our first Chapter, No. I. p. 67. [6] _Seaside Studies_, 2nd edit. p. 59, _sq._