Conversations With Isaac Newton Read online

  And in London you lived the life of a socialite?

  I gradually took on something of that role, yes. I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as a “socialite”, but I did entertain in my house in fashionable Jermyn Street, and I did make many new acquaintances as well as professional contacts. And then, of course, there was my work, which involved managing my staff and dealing with my superiors. From 1703 I was also responsible for presiding over the Royal Society. So, all in all, I was very busy and my work was very different to the purely cerebral activities I had enjoyed as an academic.

  In 1696 your niece Catherine Barton moved into your house in London. That must have presented you with another dramatic change.

  Yes, of course it did, but I think it was a very successful arrangement for both of us. Catherine is a charming and intelligent girl. We got on very well. Catherine’s mother was my half-sister, Hannah, a child of my mother’s second marriage to the Reverend Barnabas Smith. Hannah had been left destitute by the sudden death of her husband, Robert Barton, and when Catherine was 17 it was decided by the family that she should be introduced to London society. I owned a large house, and so I was happy to have the girl in residence.

  She was also a great beauty.

  Indeed, and I will not deny that she was a great asset to me. Many important figures were besotted with Catherine, including Pierre Rémond de Montmort, a married French bureaucrat who fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her at a dinner party at my home.

  It’s said that Jonathan Swift was also a suitor.

  No, Swift was never a suitor, but he adored Catherine and they were close friends.

  And what of Charles Montagu, Earl of Halifax, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer and close to King William?

  Yes, Charles was deeply in love with Catherine. He was a man for whom I had the greatest respect, and I was very happy for this relationship to blossom. Charles was considerably older than Catherine but they were a perfect match: he was a widower and one of the richest men in Britain, with impeccable connections. Sadly, he died young, in 1715.

  Surely they could never have married, though?

  No, of course not. Although Catherine was my niece and Charles and I were good friends, she was nevertheless a simple country girl from the lower gentry. Montagu loved Catherine, of that there can be no doubt. In his will he left her 5,000 pounds and the wardship of his estate at Bushy Park, along with a large house in Surrey.

  And within a few years Catherine married.

  Yes, she married a fine man, John Conduitt, a scholar and a wealthy gentleman who became an MP. And later, when I retired from the Mint, he took over my old position as master.

  THE ROYAL SOCIETY

  As a young professor, Newton had a fragile relationship with the Royal Society. This was principally because he clashed terribly with some of the key members, especially the Curator of Experiments, Robert Hooke. This conflict developed into a feud that caused Newton to shun the Society for many years. When he eventually became the president of the Royal Society a few months after Hooke died in March 1703, Newton had all portraits of his rival removed and destroyed. Afterwards, Newton became an integral part of the Royal Society and did much to improve its status and position.

  Sir Isaac, do you consider your involvement with the Royal Society to have been a significant aspect of your life and career?

  Indeed I do. In the early days, I was frozen out of the Society by Hooke. As I explained earlier, he did much to try to damage my reputation. As a reaction to this I came close to giving up my Fellowship. But in the end I merely kept myself to myself in Cambridge. Hooke was a bad apple, but there were many fine men at the Royal Society whom I admired. Christopher Wren was an outstanding intellect and a good man. I also considered Edmund Halley to be a remarkable talent. Both men always made me welcome, and they supported me when I took the reins at the Society in 1703.

  How do you see the role of the Royal Society in your time? Has its existence been at all relevant to the advancement of science?

  Well, of course it has! The Royal Society is an immensely important institution and I can confidently take some significant credit for elevating it from a serious but rather ineffectual gathering of intellectuals to its current position as the most influential and respected academic society in the world. In the beginning, the Royal Society was little more than an informal club founded by Henry Oldenburg, Robert Boyle and Seth Ward in Oxford. Even when I was invited to become a Fellow early in 1672, the Society consisted of only a few dozen members. For many years the continued existence of the Royal Society was constantly under threat. A suitable permanent home could never be found, its finances were in a mess and it came perilously close to dissolving. Henry Oldenburg was one of the great administrators of the Society and he did an enormous amount to steer it into clearer waters. But, I have to say, it was not until I became president that the Society was truly rescued.

  You were responsible for significant reforms?

  Yes, I was. To begin with, I made it a priority to find a home for the Society. This I did in 1710, when we purchased a wonderful property in Crane Court, London.

  And what of the science? Can you explain how the Royal Society affected the progress of science?

  I placed great emphasis on making the Society run properly because I believed that this was essential if it were to play its role in moving science forward. And, of course, it is the advancement of science that is the real raison d’être of the Society. The Royal Society promotes this in many ways. First, it acts as a meeting place for the greatest minds of the age – not just pure scientists but also men such as Samuel Pepys or Wren, polymathic figures with a keen interest in science. The simple act of meeting, talking and lecturing is crucial. Second, there are also the many experiments funded and organized by the Society. Most of these are conducted far from the spotlight, while others are demonstrations for all members to witness. Finally, there are the publications financed by the Royal Society. We have a journal, Philosophical Transactions. This was the first scientific journal ever created and its value is hard to overestimate. It produced the template for all scientific publishing and offered a unique system for the researcher. A Fellow could write about a piece of research he had conducted and publish it for the other members to study and comment upon. This created a healthy and progressive forum for intellectual advance. But the Transactions are not the only form of communication the Royal Society provided. It has financed the publication of many important books, including my own Principia Mathematica and Opticks.

  And Robert Hooke’s Micrographia, of course.

  Yes, that too.

  A REMARKABLE LEGACY

  The work of Isaac Newton was truly revolution­ary, sparking a transformative movement, which began in England some 60 years after his death before spreading across the world – the Industrial Revolution. This was a paradigm shift in the history of civilization, taking humankind from a state in which the main focus was agriculture and small-scale crafts to one in which industry, mechanization and technology became paramount. Newton’s experimental work and theories took science from being an almost exclusively cerebral activity and turned it into something practical, a discipline which increasingly benefits us all.

  Some men wish to be remembered as “good”, others as people who have changed the world. Few can claim to have been both. How would you most like to be remembered?

  I believe I have led a good life. I have been honest to my conscience, I have been honest to my Lord. I have devoted myself to the noblest causes, and I have achieved great things. I would rather be remembered as a man who made a difference. I know whether or not I have led a Christian life, and so does God. I care little for what other people may think about that.

  What would you say was your greatest achievement?

  I find it hard to differentiate between aspects of my work. To me it’s all one. My journey from the cradle has been one in which first I learned from my antecedents, then I tried to emula
te them, and finally I surpassed them. I cannot say that my work in optics is any more or any less worthy than what I discovered about gravity or the behaviour of objects in motion. Is my discovery of a practical form of calculus any more or any less significant than my telescope? I cannot say. Humanity being what it is, I imagine I will be remembered for the most trivial aspects of my work.

  I sense you are very keen to preserve your reputation as an empirical scientist. I noticed in your answer that you didn’t mention alchemy or your researches into the nature of ancient religions or mysticism.

  I have had to be secretive about these things all my life, and defensiveness is ingrained in me. I have instructed my closest friends and my – shall we call them “disciples”? – to destroy a large body of my work on alchemy and not to speak of my involvement in the arcane, even after my death. I have devoted my life to the search for knowledge, and I have absolutely no shame concerning the methods I employed. But I know the vindictiveness of people, and I know how my many detractors would love nothing better than to use my fascination with unorthodox subjects to damage my legacy.

  It seems to me that the greatest achievement for anyone is to do something which will benefit future generations, so that they are remembered and celebrated for what they have left the world. Do you imagine others taking your lead and using your discoveries for the benefit of humanity?

  This is now my most fervent wish, but it was not always so. When I was young I sought knowledge for its own sake. I was perhaps more arrogant. As I have grown older, it has become more important to me that I be remembered for my work and that my achievements be used to improve the lot of mankind. I believe they will.

  I have a feeling you’re right, Sir Isaac. Now, could you indulge me in one last question you may find trivial, but it’s one I’ve always wanted to ask you. Is the apple story true?

  Ah yes, I’m surprised you didn’t get to that one earlier. Is the apple story true? Well, I’m sorry, young man, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you … and leave you wondering!

  FURTHER READING

  For information about Isaac Newton on the web, the best starting point is the Isaac Newton Institute for Mathematical Sciences at: www.newton.cam.ac.uk/newton.html

  BOOKS ABOUT ISAAC NEWTON

  Richard Westfall, Never At Rest: A Biography of Isaac Newton (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980; New York: Barnes & Noble, 1983)

  Michael White, Isaac Newton: The Last Sorcerer (London: 4th Estate, 1997; New York: Helix Books, 1999)

  BOOKS ABOUT THE HISTORY OF SCIENCE

  Daniel J. Boorstin, The Discoverers (London: Phoenix Press, Orion, 1983; New York: Random House, 1983)

  Melvyn Bragg, On Giant’s Shoulders (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1998; New York: Wiley, 2000)

  Jacob Bronowski, The Ascent of Man (London: BBC Books, 1973; Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1973)

  Arthur Koestler, The Sleepwalkers (London: Penguin, 1964; New York: Arkana, 1990)

  BOOKS ABOUT THE ROYAL SOCIETY

  John Gribbin, Fellowship (London: Penguin, 2005; New York: Penguin 2006)