Part 5 (1/2)
”Roger! I never would have dreamed any woman could move you to write even bad poetry.”
”Its badness is proof of my sincerity,” Roger said modestly. ”If I wrote her an excellent excellent love-poem, it might be said of me, that I had done it only to flaunt my wit.” love-poem, it might be said of me, that I had done it only to flaunt my wit.”
”As matters stand, you are indeed safe from any such accusations.”
Roger now allowed a few silent moments to pa.s.s, and adjusted his posture and his wig, as if about to be recognized in Parliament. He proclaimed: ”Now, when the attention of all Good and Forthright Men is fixed upon the controversies attending the Hanoverian Succession, now, I say, is the time to pa.s.s Expensive and Recondite Legislation!”
”Viz. Longitude?”
”We can offer a prize to the chap who devises a way of measuring it. A large prize. I have mentioned the idea to Sir Isaac, to Sir Christopher, and to Mr. Halley. They are all for it. The prize is to be quite large.”
”If you have their their support, Roger, what can you possibly want of support, Roger, what can you possibly want of me me?”
”It is high time the Ma.s.sachusetts Bay Inst.i.tute of Technologickal Arts-which I have supported so generously-did something useful!”
”Such as-?”
”Daniel, I want to win the Longitude Prize!”
London LATE FEBRUARY 1714.
DANIEL WAS LURKING LIKE A bat in the attic, supervising Henry Arlanc, who was packing Science c.r.a.pp into crates and casks. Sir Isaac Newton emerged from a room on the floor just below, talking to a pair of younger men as they strode down the corridor. Daniel craned his neck and peered down the stairway just in time to catch a glimpse of Isaac's feet and ankles as they flicked out of view. One of the men was Scottish, and sanguine, and fully agreeable to whatever it was that Isaac thought he should do. ”I shall bat in the attic, supervising Henry Arlanc, who was packing Science c.r.a.pp into crates and casks. Sir Isaac Newton emerged from a room on the floor just below, talking to a pair of younger men as they strode down the corridor. Daniel craned his neck and peered down the stairway just in time to catch a glimpse of Isaac's feet and ankles as they flicked out of view. One of the men was Scottish, and sanguine, and fully agreeable to whatever it was that Isaac thought he should do. ”I shall remark remark on the Baron's on the Baron's remarks, remarks, sir!” sir!”
Leibniz had published his latest salvo in Journal Literaire Journal Literaire under the t.i.tle ”Remarks.” under the t.i.tle ”Remarks.”
”I'll use him smartly, I will!”
”I shall supply you with my notes on his Tentamen. Tentamen. I found in it a clearly erroneous use of second-order differentials,” Isaac said, preceding the others down the stairs. I found in it a clearly erroneous use of second-order differentials,” Isaac said, preceding the others down the stairs.
”I perceive your strategy sir!” boomed the Scotsman. ”Before the Baron presumes to pick the lint from oot o' yoor eye he ought to extricate the log from oot o' his oon!” It was John Keill: Queen Anne's cryptographer.
The three men stormed down the stairs and out into the streets, or so it sounded to Daniel, in whose failing ears their footsteps and their conversation melted together into a fusillade of hoots and booms.
Daniel waited until their carriages had cleared the end of Crane Court, then went to the Kit-Cat Clubb.
ONE OF THE REGULARS THERE was John Vanbrugh, an architect who made a specialty of country houses. For example, he was building Blenheim Palace for the Duke of Marlborough. He couldn't help but be busy on that front just now, since Harley had just flung ten thousand pounds at the Duke. Most of his tasks, just now, had nothing to do with the drawing up of plans or the supervision of workers. He was rather shunting money from place to place and attempting to hire people. Daniel knew this because Vanbrugh was using the Kit-Cat Clubb as his office, and Daniel couldn't go there and read the paper and drink chocolate without hearing half of Vanbrugh's business. Occasionally Daniel would glance up to discover Vanbrugh staring at him. Perhaps the architect knew he had corresponded with Marlborough. Perhaps it was something else. was John Vanbrugh, an architect who made a specialty of country houses. For example, he was building Blenheim Palace for the Duke of Marlborough. He couldn't help but be busy on that front just now, since Harley had just flung ten thousand pounds at the Duke. Most of his tasks, just now, had nothing to do with the drawing up of plans or the supervision of workers. He was rather shunting money from place to place and attempting to hire people. Daniel knew this because Vanbrugh was using the Kit-Cat Clubb as his office, and Daniel couldn't go there and read the paper and drink chocolate without hearing half of Vanbrugh's business. Occasionally Daniel would glance up to discover Vanbrugh staring at him. Perhaps the architect knew he had corresponded with Marlborough. Perhaps it was something else.
At any rate, Vanbrugh was there when Daniel walked down from Crane Court, and within a few moments he had a great deal more reason to stare. For Daniel had scarcely sat down before a really excellent carriage pulled up in front of the club, and the head of Sir Christopher Wren appeared in its window, asking for Dr. Daniel Waterhouse. Daniel obliged by coming out and climbing right in. The magnificence of this vehicle, and the beauty of the four matched horses that drew it, were sufficient to stop traffic on the Strand, which greatly simplified the task of getting it turned around and aimed back the way Daniel had come, eastwards into the city.
”I sent a carter round to Crane Court, as you requested, to collect whatever it was you wanted collected. He shall meet us at St. Stephen Walbrook and then he is yours for the day.”
”I am in your debt.”
”Not at all. May I ask what it is?”
”Rubbish from the attic. A gift to our scientific brethren in St. Petersburg.”
”Then I am in your your debt. Given the nature of my work, what a scandal it would raise, if Crane Court collapsed under the weight of beetles.” debt. Given the nature of my work, what a scandal it would raise, if Crane Court collapsed under the weight of beetles.”
”Let us consider all accounts settled between us, then.”
”Did you really go through all all of it!?” of it!?”
”What I am really after is the residue of Hooke.”
”Oh-er! You shan't find it there there. Sir Isaac.”
”Hooke and Newton are the two most difficult persons I have ever known-”
”Flamsteed belongs too in that Pantheon.”
”Hooke thought Newton stole his ideas.”
”Yes. He made me aware of it.”
”Newton considered himself aggrieved by any such accusations. Hooke's legacy could only support Hooke, and never exonerate Newton-so away with all such rubbis.h.!.+ But Hooke, being no less obstreperous than Newton, must have antic.i.p.ated this-he would therefore have placed his most valuable stuff out of Newton's reach.”
Wren bore his eighty-one years as an arch supports tons of stone. He had been a sort of mathematical and mechanical prodigy. The quicksilver that had seemingly welled up out of the ground, round the time of Cromwell, had been especially concentrated in him. Later that tide had seemed to ebb, as many of the early Royal Society men had succ.u.mbed to a heaviness of the limbs, or of the spirit. Not so with Wren, who seemed to be changing from an elfin youth into an angel, with only a brief sojourn in Manhood. He wore a tall fluffy silver wig, and clothing of light color, with airy lace at the throat and wrists, and his face was in excellent condition. His age showed mostly in the dimples of his cheeks, which had lengthened to crevices, and in the fragile skin of his eyelids, which had become quite loose, pink, and swollen. But even this only seemed to lend him a placid and mildly amused look. Daniel saw now that Wisdom had been among the gifts that G.o.d had bestowed on the young Wren, and that it had led him into architecture: a field where the results spoke for themselves, and in which it was necessary to remain on speaking terms with large numbers of one's fellow humans for years at a time. The other early Royal Society men had not recognized Wren's wisdom, and so there had been whispers, fifty years ago, that the wonder boy was squandering his gifts by going into the building trade. Daniel had been as guilty of saying so as anyone else. But Wren's decision had long since been vindicated, and Daniel-who'd made his own decisions, some wiser than others-felt no trace of envy, and no regret. Only a sort of awed bemus.e.m.e.nt, as their carriage emerged from Ludgate and circ.u.mnavigated St. Paul's church-yard, and Wren parted a curtain with one finger to cast an eye over St. Paul's, like a shepherd scanning his flock.
What would it be like, to have built that that? Daniel could only guess at it, by considering what he he had built, and trying to appraise it in a similar spirit. But Daniel's work was not finished yet. He was not that old-or so he felt, in present company. When Wren's son had laid the last stone into its place in the lantern atop the dome of St. Paul's, Sir Christopher had been ten years older than Daniel was had built, and trying to appraise it in a similar spirit. But Daniel's work was not finished yet. He was not that old-or so he felt, in present company. When Wren's son had laid the last stone into its place in the lantern atop the dome of St. Paul's, Sir Christopher had been ten years older than Daniel was today today.
St. Paul's had pa.s.sed from view; they had turned onto Watling Street and come to a dead stop in the congestion; the tables had turned, and now Wren was looking at Daniel bemusedly. ”I do not intend to make your business mine,” he said, ”but it would help me to help you, if you would allow me to know what sort of Hooke-stuff you are looking for. Some of his artwork, to adorn your walls? Navigational instruments, for finding your way back to Boston? Architectural drawings? Astronomical observations? Schemes for flying machines? Samples of exotic plants and animals? Clock-work? Optical devices? Chymical Receipts? Cartographical innovations?”
”Forgive me, Sir Christopher, my affairs divide and multiply from one day to the next, I am compelled to pursue several errands at once, and so my answer is not as plain as it might be. Almost anything will serve the end I have already mentioned, viz. giving the Russian savants-in-training food for thought. As for my own purposes, I require anything to do with machines.”
”I have heard it mentioned that you are a member of the Court of Directors of the Proprietors-”
”No. It is not that. Mr. Newcomen's Engine is a huge and beastly piece of ironmongery, and he needs no a.s.sistance from me to make it. I am thinking of small, precise, clever machines.”
”I suppose you mean, small, precise machines, made cleverly. made cleverly.”
”I meant what I said, Sir Christopher.”
”So it's the Logic Mill again? I thought Leibniz gave up on it, what, forty years ago.”
”Leibniz only set it aside set it aside forty years ago, so that he could-” Here Daniel was struck dumb for a few moments out of sheer awe at the forty years ago, so that he could-” Here Daniel was struck dumb for a few moments out of sheer awe at the faux pas faux pas he had been about to commit; he was going to say, he had been about to commit; he was going to say, invent the calculus. invent the calculus.
Sir Christopher's face, as he regarded this narrowly averted conversational disaster, looked like the death-mask of a man who had died in his sleep while having a pleasant dream.
Finally Wren said, brightly, ”I recall Oldenburg was furious. Never forgave him for not finis.h.i.+ng it.”
A short pause. Daniel was thinking something unforgivable: perhaps Oldenburg had been right, Leibniz should have built the d.a.m.ned machine and never trespa.s.sed upon the holy ground that Isaac had discovered and walled round. He sighed.
Sir Christopher was regarding him with infinite patience. 'Twas like sharing a coach with a Corinthian column.