Google
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project
to make the world’s books discoverable online.
Ithas survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain, A public domain book is one that was never subject
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired, Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that’s often difficult to discover,
Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the
publisher to a library and finally to you,
Usage guidelines
Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible, Public domain books belong to the
publi
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to
‘We also ask that you:
+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.
+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
+ Maintain attribution The Google “watermark” you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search, Please do not remove it.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can’t offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a books appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.
About Google Book Search
Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful, Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world’s books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web
atfhttp: //books . google.com,
STANFORD
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARIES
ei
THE
_ LIFE AND LETTERS OF
CHARLES DARWIN
Including an Autobiographical Chapter
EDITED BY HIS SON
FRANCIS DARWIN
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. |
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1898.
:
PREFACE,
Ix choosing letters for publication | have been
largely guided by the wish to illustrate my father's
personal character. But his life was so essentiall
‘of work, that a history of the man could not be writ
ten without following closely the career of the author.
Thus it comes about that the chief part of the book
falls into chapters whose titles correspond to the
names of his books.
Tn arranging the letters I have adhered as far as
possible to chronological sequence, but the character
and variety of his researches make « strictly chrono-
logical order an impossibility. It was his habit to
work more or less simultancously at several subjects.
Experimental work was often carried on as a refresh.
ment or variety, while books entailing reasoning and
the marshalling of large bodies of facts were being
written. Moreover, many of his researches were
allowed to drop, and only resumed alter an interval of
years. Thus a rigidly chronological series of letters
Would present a patchwork of subjects, each of which
would be difficult to follow. The Table of Contents
will show in what way [ have attempted to avoid this
result.
Jo, ‘printing the letters I have followed (except in a
,
iv PREFACE,
few cases) the usual plan of indicating the existence of
omissions or insertions. My father’s letters give fre-
quent evidence of having been written when he was
tired or hurried, and they bear the marks of this cir-
cumstance, In writing to a friend, or to one of his
family, he frequently omitted the articles: these have
been inserted without the usual indications, except in
a few instances (¢. g. vol. i. p. 177), where it is of spe-
interest to preserve intact the hurried character
of the letter, Other small words, such as of, &, &c.,
have been inserted usually within brackets. [ bave
not followed the originals as regards the spelling of
names, the nse of capitals, or in the matter of punctue
ation, My father underlined many words in his let-
ters; these have not always been given in italics,—
a rendering which would unfairly exaggerate their
effect,
The Diary or Pocket-book, from which quotations
occur in the following pages, has been of value as sup-
plying a frame-work of facts round which letters may
be grouped. It is unfortunately written with great
brevity, the history of a year being compressed into a
page or less; and ‘contains little more than the dates
of the principal events of his life, together with entries
as to his work, and as to the duration of his more
serious illnesses. He rarely dated his letters, so that
but for the Diary it would have been all but impossi-
ble to unravel the history of his books. It has also
enabled me to assign dates to many letters which
would otherwise have been shorn of half their value,
Of letters addressed to my father | have not made
much use. It was his custom to file all letters ree
ccived, and when his slender stock of files (“ spits" as
he called them) was exhausted, he would burn the let.
ters of several years, in order that he might make use
vi PREFACE,
tesy of the publishers of the ‘Century Magazine ' who
have freely given me the use of their illustrations. To
Messrs. Maull and Fox and Messrs. Elliott and Fry 1
am also indebted for their kindness in allowing me the
use of reproductions of their photographs.
Francis DARWIN,
Canmnmer,
October, 1887
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
L—THe Darwin Fatty. 6 ee ee
M—Avropiocrarny © ee
WL—Rewniscences . eee
LETTERS.
IV.—Campripce Lirr—r828-183t ee 1)
V.—THE APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE’—183t . .—« 160
VI—Tue Vovace—1831-1836 - eee OF
VIL—Lonpox AND Casuripce—1836-1842.0 =... 243
VIW—Reuson 6 ee TE
. 287
ae = 303
XL—THE Grownit oF THE ‘Onto oF SpEctes'—Lerrers—
1843-1856... +380
XIL—Tux Unrimsiep Boox—MAY vistjunz 1858... 426
XIIL—THe Wartisc oF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES’:
1858-Nov. 1859. in as 472
XIV.—Proresson HUXLEY ON THE RECEPTION OF THE ‘ORIGIN
orSpecesé . . ee wee 883
viii CONTENTS.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Cuantes Darwin 1x 1874(?). From THE ‘CENTURY MAGAZINE!
Tue pHotocRari By CAPTAIN L. Darwin, R.E. . Frontispiece.
Tue House at Down. FroM THE ‘CENTURY MAGAZINE” Face p. 87
Tue Stupy At Dows. From THE ‘CENTURY MAGAZINE’. Tor
Tue BEAGLE LAID ASHORE 6, we wee 60
2
described as “ gentleman, avian lan tan Comet
man. Whilst retaining his atcestral land at Marton, he ac-
futon, near Kirton Lindsey, and
hert "This estate remained in the family
down to the year ¢76a° A cottage with thick walls, some
figh-ponds and oldtrees, now alone show where the “Old
Hall" once stonfyiind a ficld is atll locally known as the
“Darwin Chany, from being subject to a charge in favour
‘of the pooe of Marton, William Darwin must, at least in
Brie) owed his rise in station to his appointment in 1613,
16 the post of Yeoman of the Royal Armoury of
~ Theoftice appears to have been worth only £33
‘& year, aid the-Wuties were probably almost nominal ;
held ié*post down to his death during the Civil Wars,
thé fact that this William was a royal servant may explain
fy his son, also named William, served when almost a boy
for the King, as "Captain-Lieutenant™ in Sir William Pel-
ham’s troop of horse. On the partial dispersion of the royal
armies, and the retreat of the remainder to Scotland, the
boy's estates were sequestrated by the Parliament, but they
were redeemed on his signing the Solemn League and Cove-
nant, and on his paying a fine which must have struck his
finances severely ; for ina petition to Charles IT. he speaks
of his almost utter ruin from having adhered to the royal
cause.
Duting the Cominonwealth, William Darwin became a
barrister of Lincolo’s fon, and this circumstance probably led
to his marriage with the daughter of Erasmus Earle, serjeant-
at-law: hence his great-grandson, Erasmus Darwin, the Poet,
derived his Christian name, He ultimately became Recorder
of the city of Lincoln
‘The eldest son of the Recorder, again called William, was
horn in r6ss, and married the heiress of Robert Waring, a
member of a good Staffordshire family. This lady inherited
from the family. of Lassells, or Lascelles, the manor and hall
‘of Elston, near Newark, which has remained ever since in the
Cuet
4 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
“Tt is suspected that the third tine may be accounted for
by his wife, the mother of Erasmus, having been avery learned
lady, ‘The eldest son of Robert, christened Robert Waring,
suceceded to the estate of Elston, and died there at the age
of ninety-two, a bachelor, He had a strong taste for poetry,
like his youngest brother Erasmus, Robert also cultivated
botany, and, when an oldish man, he published his * Principia
Botanica,” ‘This book in MS, was beautifally written, and
my father [Dr. R. W. Darwin] declared that he believed it
was published because his old uncle could not endure that
such fine caligraphy should be wasted. But this was hardly
just, as the work contains many curious notes on bivlogy—a
subject wholly neglected in England in the last century. The
public, moreover, appreciated the book, as the copy in my
possession is the third edition.""
‘The second son, William Alvey, inherited Elston, and
transmitted it to his granddaughter, the late Mrs, Darwin, of
Elston and Creskeld. A third son, John, became rector of
Elston, the living being in the gift of the family. ‘The fourth
son, and youngest child, was Erasmus Darwin, the poct and
philosopher.
‘The table on page 5 shows Charles Darwin's descent from
Robert, and his relationship to some other members of the
family, whose names occur in his correspondence, Among
these are included Willian Darwin Fox, one of his earliest
correspondents, and Francis Galton, with whom he maine
tained a warm friendship for many years. Here also occurs
the name of Francis Sachevere! Darwin, who inherited a love
of natural history from Erasmus, and transmitted it to his son
Edward Darwin, author (under the name of “High Elms”)
of a ‘Gamekeeper's Manual’ (4th Edit. 1863) which shows
Keen observation of the habits of various animals.
It is always interesting to sce how far a man’s personal
characteristics can be traced in his forefathers. Charles Dare
win inherited the tall stature, but not the bulky figure of
Erasmus ; but in his features there is no traceable resem-
blance to those of his grandfather. Nor, it appears, had
TABLE OF RELATIONSHIP,
-eggr ‘61 dy “p ‘Gogr ‘er “gag 4
CNIMAVC] Ludnoy SaTAVII
-wonstet pur ppyso15 Jo
OH usec
use “uowe ‘xog main “pox prempa
preuiioy sues | ra dees
-pooaiipay,
: -uowye ‘alex -p_ qeuuesng “ur
-6Sei postr q@ —smmusy jon SLI“ “ghaT'p “COLT -q “x04 [pnuny setgr pitldr'a
‘pioanies somety ang oprah) ntavay dete “Aut “esa MS,
“ef gr “p ‘tL: “oll piotta rp HEL1-q corgi “p ‘tedr-q
“210g-sopuryD
(2) art peony eg (2) w sameway Sug Hoga
|
“FSLr -p ‘2991 -q
‘woistg Jo SIMUVG, LYaEOY,
‘AIHSNOILVTAY JO ATAVL
6 THE DARWIN FAMILY,
Erasmus the love of exercise and of field-sports, to character-
istic of Charles Darwin as a young man, thongh he had, like
his grandson, an indomitable Jove of hard mental work. Be-
nevolence and sympathy with others, and a great personal
charm of manner, were common to the two, Charles Darwin
possessed, in the highest degree, that "vividness of imagina-
tion” of which he speaks as strongly characteristic of Eras-
mus, and as leading “to bis overpowering tendency to theo-
rise and generalise.” This tendency, in the case of Charles
Darwin, was fully kept in check by the determination to test
his theories to the utmost. Erasmus had a strong love of all
kinds of mechanism, for which Charles Darwin had no taste,
Neither had Charles Darwin the literary temperament which
made Erasmus a poct as well asa philosopher. He writes of
Erasmus :* “ Throughout his letters [ have been struck with
his indifference to fame, and the complete absence of all signs
of any over-estimation of his own abilities, or of the success
of bis works,” These, indeed, seem indications of traits most
strikingly prominent in his own character. Yet we get no
evidence in Erasmus of the intenss modesty and simplicity
that marked Charles Darwin's whole nature. But by the
Quick bursts of anger provoked in Erasmus, at the sight of
any inhumanity or injustice, we are again reminded of
him,
‘On the whole, however, it seems to me that we do not
know enough of the essential personal tone of Erasmus Dar-
win's character to attempt more than a superficial compari-
von; and Iam left with an impression thar, in spite of many
resemblances, the two men werc of a different type. It has
been shown that Miss Seward and Mrs, Schimmelpenninck
have misrepresented Erasmus Darwin's character.t Tt is,
however, extremely probable that the faults which they exag-
gerate were to some extent characteristic of the man; and
this leads me to think that Erasmus had a certain acerbity or
of temper which did not exist in his grandson.
sererit
** Lite of Kraunuy Darwin? pp 68. ¢ Ubid., pp. 77. 79. Secs
8 THE DARWEN FAMILY,
lecting of coins, and statistics, When a boy he counted all
the houses in the city of Lichfield, and found out the num-
Der of inhabitants is as many ashe could; he thus made a
census, and when areal one was first made, his estimate was
found to be nearly accurate. His disposition was quiet and
retiring. My father had a very high opinion of his abilities,
and this was probably just, for he would not otherwise have
been invited to travel with, and pay long visits to, men 80 dise
tinguished in different ways as Boulton the engineer, and Day
the moralist and novelist." His death by suicide, in 1799,
seems to have taken place in a state of incipient insanity.
Robert Waring, the father of Charles Darwin, was born
May 39, 1766, and entered the medical profession like his
father. He studied for a few months at Leyden, and took
his M. D.* at that University on Feb. 26,1785. "His father
(Erasmus) “brought him to Shrewsbury before he was
twenty-one years old (1787), and left him £20, saying, ‘Let
me know when you want more, and J will send it you’ His
uncle, the rector of Elston, afterwards also sent him £20, and
this was the sole pecuniary aid which he ever received . . .
Erasmus tells Mr. Edgeworth that his son Robert, after
being settled in Shrewsbury for only six months, ‘already
had between forty and fifty patients.’ By the second year
he was in considerable, and ever afterwards in very large,
peact
* 1 owe this (nformstion to the kindness of Professor Rauwenholf, Die
rector of the Archives at Laydem Ile quotes from the eattlogue of doe~
tors that Robertus Waring Darwin, Anglo-britannus,” defended (Feb.
26, 1744) in the Senate a Dissertation on the coloured images seen after
jing at 2 bright object, and “ Medlicime Dostor creatus eat a clar, Pata
ijn” ‘The archiver of Leyden University are so cwnpilete that Professor
Reuwenhotf fe able to tell me that my grandfather Tived together with
Anglas," jn todgings in the Apothekersdijk.
Dr. Darwin's Leyden dissertation was published in the * Philosophical
‘Transactions’ and my father used to say that the work was in fact dive to
Enssmmus Darwin. D,
Life of Erasmus Darwin,’ ps 85
Yo
certain “Petrus Crompro
DR. RW. DARWIN, 9
ota Darwin married (April 18, 1796) Susannah,
hter of his father's friend, Josiah Wedgwood, of
‘Etruria, then in ber thirty-second year. We have a miniature
‘of her, with a remarkably sweet and happy face, bearing some
fo the portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds of her
countenance expressive of the gentle and sympathetic
nature whieh Miss Meteyard ascribes to her.* She died July
45, 1817, thirty-two years before her husband, whose death
‘occurred on November #3, 184% Dr. Darwin lived before
was born ; lastly at the “Mount,” in the part of Shrewsbury
Known as Frankwell, where the other children were born.
‘This house was built by Dr. Darwi: ut 1800, it is now in
the possession of Mr. Spencer Phillips, and has undergone
‘But little alteration. ft is a large, plain, square, red-brick
house, of which the most attractive feature is the pretty
‘opening out of the morning-room.
‘The house is charmingly placed, on the top of a steep bank
leading down to the Severn. The terraced bank is traversed
by a long walk, leading from end to end, still called “the
‘Doctor's Walk." At one point in this walk grows a Spanish
ehestnut, the branches of which bend back parallel to them-
welves i @ curious manner, and this was Charles Darwin's
favourite tree as a boy, where he and his sister Catherine had
each their special ‘seat.
The Doctor took a great pleasure in his garden, planting
ft with ornamental trees and sbrobs, and being especially suc-
exsful in frait-trees; and this love of plants was, I think, the
‘only taste kindred to natural history which he possessed. Of
the“ Mount pigeons,” which Miss Meteyard describes as illus
“tating Dr. Darwin's natural-history taste, 1 have not been
able 10 hear from those most capable of knowing. Miss
‘account of him is not quite accurate in a few
For instance, it is incorrect to describe Dr. Darwin
a Englishmen by Miss Meteyand, 1871
—_—
10 ‘THE DARWIN FAMILY,
aa having a philosophical mind; his was a mind especially
given to deiail, and not to generalising. Again, those who
knew him intimately describe him a3 eating remarkably little,
so that he was not “a great feeder, eating » goose for bis dine
nef, as easily as other men do a partridge"® In the matter
of dress he was conservative, and wore to the end of his life
knee-breeches and drab gaiters, which, however, certainly did
not, as Miss Meteyard says, button above the knee—a form
‘of costume chielly known to us in grenadiers of Queen Anne's
day, and in modern wood-cutters and ploughboys.
Charles Darwin had the strongest feeling of love and re=
spect for his father’s memory. His recollection of everything
that was connected with him was peculiarly distinct, and he
spoke of him frequently; generally prefacing an anecdote
with some such phrase as, “My father, who was the wisest
man I ever knew, &c, . It was astonishing how clearly
he remembered his father's opini 90 that he was able to
quote some maxims or hint of his in most cases of illness,
As @ tule, he put small faith in doctors, and thus bis unlim-
ited belief ia Dr, Darwin’s medical instinct and methods of
treatment was all the more striking.
His reverence for him was boundless and most touching.
He would have wished to judge everything else in the world
dispassionately, but anything his father had said was received
with almost implicit faith, His daughter Mrs. Litchfield re-
members him saying that he hoped none of-his sons would
ever believe anything because he said {t, unless they were
themselves convinced of its truth,—a feeling in striking eon-
trast with his owa manner of faith,
A visit which Charles Darwin made to Shrewsbury in 1869
left on the mind of his daughter who accompanied him a
strong impression of his love for his old home. ‘The then
tenant of the Mount showed them over the house, &c., and
with mistaken hospitality remained with the party during the
whole visit, As they were leaving, Charles Darwin said, with
**A Group of Englishmen,’ p. 263.
DR. R. W. DARWIN. wr
‘4 pathetic Look of regret, “If T could have been left alone in
that green-house for five minutes, f know T should have been
able to see my father in his wheel-chair as vividly as if he
had been there before me.
Perhaps this incident shows what I think is the truth, that
the memory of his father he loved the best, was that of him
as an old man. Mrs. Litchfield has noted down a few words
‘which iMustrae well his feeling towards his father, She de-
scribes him as saying with the most tender respect, “I think
my father was a little unjust to me when I was young, but
afterwards 1 am thankful to think I became a prime favourite
with him." She has a vivid recollection of the expression of
happy reverie that accompanied these words, as if he were
Teviewing the whole relation, and the remembrance left a deep
Sense of peace and gratitude,
‘What follows was added hy Charles Darwin to his auto-
biographical ‘Recollections,’ and was written about 1877
or 1873,
“T may here add a few pages about my father, who was
in many ways a remarkable man.
“He was about 6 fect 2 inches in height, with broad
shoulders, and very corpulent, so that he was the largest
tan whom T ever saw. When he last weighed himself, he
‘WHS 24 stone, but afterwards increased much in weight. His
chief mental characteristics were his powers of observation
and his sympathy, neither of which have I ever scen exceeded
Of even equalled. His syurpathy was not only with the dis
tresses of others, but in a greater degree with the pleasures
‘of Ml around him. This led him to be always scheming to
(give pleasure to others, and, though hating extravagance, to
perform many generous actions For Instance,
Small manufacturer in Shrewsbury, came to him one e day, and
aid he should be bankrupt unless he could at once borrow
H15,000, but that he was unable to give any legal security.
My father heard his reasons for believing that he could wlti-
mately repay the moncy, and from [his] intuitive perception
—_
2 THE DARWIN FAMILY,
of character felt sure that he was to be trusted. So he ad~
vanced this sum, which was a very large one for him while
young, and was after a time repaid.
“T suppose that it was his sympathy which gave him un-
bounded power of winning confidence, and as a consequence
made him highly successful as a physician. He began to
practise before he was twenty-one years old, and his fees
during the first year paid for the keep of two homes and a
servant, On the following year his practice was large, and
so continued for about sixty years, when he ceased to attend
on any one. His great success as a doctor was the more
remarkable, as he told me that he at first hated his profession
so much that if he had been sure of the smallest pittance, or
if his father had given him any choice, nothing should have
induced him to follow it, ‘To the end of ic, the thought
of an operation almost sickened him, and he could scarcely
endure to see a person bled-—a horror which he has trans+
mitted to me-and I remember the horror which I felt asa
schoolboy in teading about Pliny (I think) bleeding to death
in a warm bath...
“Owing to my father's power of winning confidence, many
patients, especially ladies, consulted him when suffering from
any miscry, a8 a sort of Father-Confessor. He told me that
they always began by complaining in a vague manner about
their health, and by practice he soon guessed what was really
the matter. He then suggested that they had been suffering
in their minds, and now they would pour out their troubles,
and he heard nothing more about the body. . . . Owing to
my father’s skill in winning confidence he received many
strange confessions of misery and guilt, He often remarked
how many miserable wives he had known. In several ine
stances husbands and wives had gone on pretty well to-
gether for between twenty and thirty years, and then
hated each other bitterly; this he attributed to their hav-
ing lost a common bond in their young children having
grown up.
“Bat the most remarkable power which my father pos
‘sessed was that of reading the characters, and even the
thoughts of those whom he saw even for a short time, We
‘bad many instances of the power, some of which scemed
‘almost supernatural. It saved my father from ever making
(with one exception, and the character of this man was soon
discovered) an unworthy friend. A strange clergyman came
‘to Shrewsbury, and seemed to be a rich man; everybody
‘ealled on him, and he was invited to many houses, My
father called, and on his return home told my sisters on no
@ccount to invite him or his family to our house; for he felt
ure that the man was not to be trusted. After a few months
he suddenly bolted, being heavily in debt, and was found ont
86 We little better than an habitual swindler, Here is a case
of trestfalness which not many men would have ventured on.
An Irish gentleman, a complete stranger, called on my father
‘one day, and said that he had lost his purse, and that it
would be a serious inconvenience to him to wait in Shrews-
Wary until he could receive a remittance from Ireland. He
‘then asked my father to lend him £20, which was immedi-
‘ately done, as my father felt certain that the story was a true
‘One. As soon as a letter could arrive from Ireland, one came
‘with the most profuse thahks, and enclosing, as he said, a
($20 Bank of England note, but no note was enclosed. 1
asked my father whether this did not stagger him, but he an-
Swered “not in the least.’ On the next day another letter
| “came with many apologies for having forgotten (like a true
Irishman) to ‘put the note into his letter of the day before.
=. [A gentleman] brought his nephew, who was insane but
“quite gentle, to my father; and the young man’s insanity led
“Bim to accuse himself of all the crimes under heaven. When
4 afterwards talked over the matter with the uncle,
he said, “Tat sure that your nephew is really guilty %
a heinous crime" Whereupon [the gentleman] said,
Dr. Darwin, who told you; we thought that no human
knew the fact except ourselves!” My father told me
years after the event, and 1 asked him how
the true from the false self-aceusations ; and
= ey
7 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
it was very characteristic of my father that he said he could
not explain how it was,
““The following story shows what good guesses my father
could make, Lord Shelburne, afterwards’ the first Marquis
‘of Lansdowne, was famous (a Macaulay somewhere remarks)
for his knowledge of the affairs of Europe, on which he great~
ly prided himself, He consulted my father medically, and
afterwards harangued him on the state of Holland. My
father had studied medicine at Leyden, and one day [while
there] went a long walk into the country with a friend who
took him to the house of a clergyman (we will say the Rev.
Mr. A—, for I have forgotten his name), who had married
an Englishwoman, My father was very hungry, and there
was little for luncheon except cheese, which he could never
eat, ‘The old Indy was surprised and grieved at this, and as~
sured my father that it was an excellent cheese, and had been
sent her from Bowood, the scat of Lord Shelburne. My
father wondered why a cheese should be sent her from Rowood,
Dut thought nothing more about it until it flashed across his
mind many years afterwards, whilst Lord Shelburne was talks
ing abont Holland. So he answered, ‘I should think from
what I saw of the Rev. Mr. A—, that he was a very able
man, and well acquainted with the state of Holland.’ My
father saw that the Earl, who immediately changed the con-
versation, was much startled. On the next morning my
father received a note from the Earl, saying that he had delayed
starting on his journey, and wished particularly to see my.
father. When he called, “Dr. Darwin, it is of
the utmost importance to me and to the Rev, Mr, A——to
learn how you have discovered that he is the source of my
information about Holland.’ So my father had to explain the
state of the case, and he supposed that Lord Shelburne was
much steuck with his diplomatic skill in guessing, for during
many years afterwards he received many kind messages from
him through various friends, 1 think that he must have told
the story to his children; for Sir C, Lyell asked me many
years ago why the Marquis of Lansdowne (the son or grand:
16 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
come, Doctor, this won't do—though it is very kind of you to
say so for my sake—for I know that you take a very large
glass of hot gin and water every evening after your dinner.” *
So my father asked him how he knew this, The man an-
swered, ‘My cook was your kitchen-maid for two or three
years, and she saw the butler every day prepare and take to
you the gin and water,’ ‘The explanation was that my father
had the odd habit of drinking hot water in a very tall and
large glass after his dinner ; and the butler used first to put
some cold water in the ylass, which the gitl mistook for gin,
and then filled it up with boiling water from the kitchen
boiler.
“My father used to tell me many litte things which he
Thad found useful in his medical practice. Thus ladies often:
eried much while telling him their troubles, and thus caused
much loss of his precious time. He soon found that begging
them to command and restrain themselves, always made them
‘weep the more, so that afterwards he always encouraged them
to go on crying, saying that this would relieve them more than
‘anything else, and with the invariable result that they soon
ceased to cry, and he could hear what they had to say and
give his advice. When patients who were very ill craved for
some strange and unnatural food, my father asked them what
had put such an idea into their heads; if they answered that
they did not know, he would allow them to try the food, and
often with success, as he trusted to their haying a kind of
instinctive desire ; but if they answered that they had heard
that the food in question had done good to some one else,
he firmly refused his assent.
“He gave one day an odd little specimen of haman nae
ture. When a very young man he was called in to consult
with the family physician in the case of a gentleman of much
distinction in Shropshire. The old doctor told the wife
that the illness was of such a nature that it must end fatally.
# This bellef still survives, and was mentioned vo my brother in 188
‘by an old inhabitant of Shrewsbury.—F. D.
18 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
nary number of curious stories, which he liked to tell, as he was
a great talker, He was generally in high spirits, and laughed
and joked with every one—often with his servants—with the
utmost freedom; yet he had the art of making every one obey
him to the letter. Many persons were much afraid of him.
I remember my father telling us one day, with a laugh, that
several persons had asked him whether Miss —=, a grand
old lady in Shropshire, had called on him, so that at last he
enquired why they asked him ; and he was told that Miss —,
whom my father had somehaw mortally offended, was telling
everybody that she would call and tell ‘that fat old doctor
very plainly what she thought of him.’ She had already
’ called, but her courage had failed, and no one could hare
‘been more courteous and friendly, As a boy, I went to stay
at the house of —, whose wife was insane; and the poor
creature, as soon as she saw me, was in the most abject state
of terror that [ ever saw, weeping bitterly and asking me over
and over again, ‘ Is your father coming?’ but was soon paci=
fied. On my return home. I asked my father why she was x
frightened, and. he answered he was very glad to hear it, as
he had frightened her on purpose, feeling sure that she would
be Kept in safety and much happier without any restraint,
if her husband could influence her, whenever she became
at all violent, by proposing to send for Dr. Darwin; and
these words succeeded perfectly during the rest of her long
life.
“ My father was very sensitive, so that many small events
annoyed him or pained him much. I once asked him, when
he was old and could not walk, why he did sot drive out for
‘exercise ; and he answered, ‘ Every road out of Shrewsbury
is associated in my mind with some painful event.” Vet he
was generally in high spirits, He was easily made very
angry, but his kindness was unbounded, He was widely and
deeply loved.
™ He was a cautious and good man of business, so that he
hardly ever lost moncy by an investment, and left to his
children a very large property. * I remember a story showing
—_
false beliefs spread.
E—, squire of one of the oldest families in Shropshire,
ae ina bank, committed suicide. My father
was sent for asa matter of form, and found himdead. 1 may
‘mention, by the way, to show how matiers were managed in
those old days, that because Mr. E—— was a rather great
man, and universally respected, no inquest was held over his
body. My father, in returning home, thought it proper to
‘eal at the bank (where he had an account) to tell the manag-
‘ing partners of the event, as it was not improbable that it
would cause arun on the bank, Well, the story was spread
far and wide, that my father went into the bank, drew out ali
his money, left the bank, came back again, and said, "I may just
‘tell you that Mr, E—— has killed himself,’ and then departed,
Tt seemns that it was then a common belief that money with.
‘draws from a bank was not safe until the person had passed
‘out through the door of the bank. My father did not hear
‘this story till some Hietle time afterwards, when the managing
‘partner sald that he had departed from his invariable rule of
never allowing any one to sce the account of another man, by
having shown the ledger with my father’s account to several
persons, as this proved that my father had not drawn outs
penny on that day. [t would have been dishonorable in my
father to have sed his professional knowledge for his private
“advantage. Nevertheless, the supposed act was greatly ade
‘fired by some persons; and many years afterwards, a jen-
teman remarked, “Ab, Doctor, what a splendid man of busi~
“ness you were in so cleverly getting all your money safe out
i bank!"
“My father's mind was not scientific, and he did not try
his knowledge under general laws; yet he
‘a theory for almost everything which occurred. 1
‘think T gained much from him intellectually ; but
x ought to have been of much moral service to all
‘One of his golden rules (a hard one to follow)
st become the friend of any one whom you cannot
20 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
‘Dr. Darwin had six children:* Marianne, married Dr,
Henry Parker; Caroline, married Josiah Wedgwood; Eras
ius Alvey ; Susan, died unmartied; Charles Robert ; Cathe-
tine, married Rev. Charles Langton,
‘The elder son, Erasmus, was born in 1804, and died un+
married at the age of seventy-seven,
He, like his brother, was educated at Shrewsbury Schoul
and at Christ's College, Cambridge. He studied medicine at
Edinburgh and in London, and took the degree of Bachelor
of Medicine at Cambridge. He never made any pretence of
practising as a doctor, and, after leaving Cambridge, lived a
quiet life in London.
‘There was something pathetic in Charles Darwin's affece
tion for his brother Erasmus, as if he always recollected his
solitary life, and the touching patience and sweetness of his
nature, He often spoke of him as “ Poor old "or “ Poor
dear old Philos""—I imagine Philos (Philosopher) was a relic
of the days when they worked at chemistry in the tool+house
at Shrewsbury—a time of which he always preserved a pleas-
ant memory. Erasmus being rather more than four years
older than Charles Darwin, they were not long together at
Cambridge, but previously at Edinburgh they lived in the
same lodgings, and after the Voyage they lived for a time to-
gether in Erasmus’ house in Great Marlborough Street. At
this time also he often speaks with much affe
mus in his letters to Fox, using words such as "my dear good
old brother.” In Jater years Erasmus Darwin came to Down
occasionally, or joined his brother's family in a summer holi-
day. But gradually it came about that he could not, through
itt health, make up his mind to leave London, and then they
‘only saw each other when Charles Darwin went for a week at
a time to his brother's house in Queen Anne Street.
‘The following note on his brother's character was writtes,
by Charles Darwin at about the same time that the sketch of
his father was added to the * Recollections ">—
* Of these Mrx Wedgwood is now the sole survivor,
a2 THE DARWIN FAMILY.
was a consideration, and his sparse utterances, sardonic often,
were a great amusement to her. ‘A perfect gentleman,” she
at once discerned him to be, and of sound worth and kindli-
ness in the most unaffected form," *
Charles Darwin did not appreciate this sketch of his
brother; he thought Carlyle had missed the essence of his
most lovable nature.
Tam tempted by the with of illustrating further the
character of one so sincerely beloved by all Charles Darwin's
children, to reproduce a letter to the Spectator (Sept. 3, 1881)
by his cousin Miss Julia Wedgwood.
“A porteait from Mr, Carlyle’s portfolio not regretted by
any who loved the original, surely confers sufficient distine-_
tion to warrant a few words of notice, when the character
it depicts is withdrawn from mortal gaze. Erasmus, the only
brother of Charles Darwin, and the faithful and affeetionate
old friend of both the Carlyles, has left a circle of mourners
who need no tribute from illustrions pen to embalm the
memory so dear to their hearts; but a wider circle must
have felt some interest excited by that tribute, and may
receive with a certain attention the record of a unique and
indelible impression, even though it be made only on the
hearts of those who cannot bequeath jt, and with whom, there-
fore, it must speedily pass away. They remember it with the
same distinctness as they remember a creation of genius; it
has in like manner enriched and sweetened life, formed a
common meeting-point for those who had no other; and, in
its strong fragrance of individuality, enforced that respect for
the idiogyncracies of human character without which moral
Judgment is always hard and shallow, and often unjust.
Carlyle was one to find a peculiar enjoyment in the combina
tion of liveliness and repose which gave his friend’s society an
influence at once stimulating and soothing, and the warmth
" Catlyle’s “Reminiscences vol. ik p. 208
threatened by serious illness, are still fresh in my memory.
"The friendship was equally warm with both husband and wife.
‘IT remember well a pathetic lithe remonstrance from her
Glicited by an avowal from Erastus Darwin, that he preferred
‘cats to dogs, which she felt a slur on her little ‘Nero;" and
the tones in which she said, ‘Ob, but you are fond of dogs!
you are too kind not to be,” spoke of a long vista of small,
gmcious kindnesses, remembered with a tender gratitude.
‘He was intimate also with & person whose friends, like those
‘of Mr, Carlyle, have not always had cause to congratulate
‘themselves on thelr place in hee gallery,—Harriet Martineau.
‘Thave heard him more than once call her a faithful friend, and
‘it always seemed to me a curious tribute to something in the
‘that he alone supplied ; but if she had written of
‘hima at all, believe the mention, in its heartiness of apprecia-
tion, would have afforded a rare and curious meeting-point
with the other * Reminiscences,’ so like and yet so unlike. It
‘Ts not possible to transfer the impression of a character; we
t is
‘Singular illustration of that irony which checks or directs
‘Our sympathies, that in trying to give sume notion of the man
whom, among those who were not his kindred, Carlyle appears
‘to have most loved, I can say nothing more descriptive than
‘that he seems to me to have had something in common with
the man whom Carlyle least appreciated. The society of
‘Erasmas Darwin had, to my mind, much the same charm as
the writings of Charles Lamb. ‘There was the same kind of
‘the same lightness of touch, the same tenderness,
same limitations. On another side of his nature,
‘T have often been reminded of him by the quaint, delicate
the superficial intolerance, the deep springs of pity,
‘mixture of something pathetic with a sort of gay
remote from contempt, which distinguish the
Fillewere ‘of Sir Arthur Helps’ earlier dialogues. Perhaps
24 THE DARWIN FAMILY,
we recall such natures most distinetly, when such a teseme
Dlance is all that is left of them. ‘The character is not merged.
in the creation ; and what we lose in the power to communi-
cate our impression, we seen to gain in its vividness, Eras
mus Darwin has passed away in old age, yet his memory
retains something of a youthful fragrance; his influence gave
much happincss, of a kind usually associated with youth, to
many lives besides the illustrious one whose records justify,
though certainly they do not inspire, the wish to place this
fading chaplet on his grave."
The foregoing pages give, in a fragmentary manner, as
much perhaps as need be told of the family from which
Charles Darwin came, and may serve a6 an introduction to
the autobiographical chapter which follows,
CHAPTER IL
AUTORIOGRAPHY,
{My father’s autobiographical recollections. given in the present
chapter, were written for his children,—and written without any
thought that they would ever be published, ‘To many this may seem
Eeapoasibility ; but those who knew my father will understand how
‘yes not only possible, but natural. ‘The autobiography bears the
* Recollections of the Development of my Mind and Charace
Aer; and ond with the following note :—" Aug. 3, 1876, This sketch
‘of my life was begun about May 28th at Hopedene,* and since then £
have written for nearly an hour on most aftemoons.” It will easily
be understood shat, in a narrative of a personal and intimate kind
‘written for his wife and children, passagen should occur which must
Here be omitted; and I have not thought it necessary to indicate
‘where such omissions are mace. {t has been found necessary to
make a few corrections of obvious verbal slips, but the number of
suck aerations has been kept down to the minimum,—F, D.]
A Grawax Editor having written to me for an account of
the development of my mind and character with some sketch
‘of my autobiography, I have thought that the attempt would
amuse me, and might possibly interest my children or their
children, I know that it would have interested me greatly to
heave read even s0 short xod dull a sketch of the mind of my
grandfather, written by himself, and what he thought and
did, and how he worked. I have attempted to write the fol-
Towing account of myself, as if I were a dead man in another
‘world looking back at my own life, Nor have 1 found this
‘* Mr, Hensloigh Wedgwood's house in Surrey.
3
26
difficult, for life is nearly over with me, T have taken no
pains about my style of writing,
1 was bom at Shrewsbury on February 12th, 1809, and
my earliest recollection goes back only to when I was a few
months over four years old, whon we went to near Abergele
for sea-bathing, and I recollect some events and places there
with some little distinctness.
My mother died in July 1317, whea I was a lithe over
eight years old, and it ix odd that I can remember hardly
anything about her except her death-bed, her black velvet
gown, and her curiously constructed work-table. In the
spring of this same ycar I was sent to a day-school in Shrews-
Dury, where I stayed a ycar, 1 have been told that I was
auch slower in learning than my younger sister Catherine,
and I believe that I was in many ways & naughty boy.
By the time I went to this day-school® my taste for natu-
tal history, and more especially for collecting, was well devel~
oped. I tried to make out the names of plants and col-
lected all sorts of things, shells, seals, franks, coins, and min-
eral. ‘The passion for collecting which leads a man to be a
systematic naturalist, a virtuoso, or a miser, was very strong
in me, and was clearly innate, as none of my sisters or brother
ever had this taste,
* Kept by Rew, . Case, minister of the Unitarian Chapel, in the Fligh
Steet. Me Darwin was a Unitarian and attended Mx, Case's chapel, anal
her as a litle boy went there with his ekler sisters But both he
aud his brother were christened and intencled co belong to the Chueh of
England; and after bik easly boyhood he sceum uvaally to have gone to
chorch and mot to Str. Case's. IC appears (St, fimer’ Grerite, Dec. £5,
1485) that a moral tablet hax been erected to his memory i the chapel
whieh Is now known as the * Free Chirlstian Church.”
+ Rev. W. A. Leighton, who was a schoolfellow of my father's at Mi
Care's school, remembers his bringing a flower to school and sayiog that
‘hie mother hai! taught bim how by looking at the inside of the blossom the
tame of the pilant could be discovered. Mr, Leighton goos on, = "This
‘greatly roused my attention and curfosity, and I inquired of Nim repented
ly how this could be done? "but his Fesson was naturally enough Ot.
tranmminsible=F, D.
“One Tittle event during this year has fixed itscif very
firealy in my mind, and 1 hope that it has done so from my
‘conscience haying been afterwards sorely troubled by it ;
is curious as showing that apparently 1 was interested at this
‘early age in the variability of plants! 1 told another little
hoy UI believe it was Leighton, who afterwards became a well-
Known and botanist), that f could produce vai
‘ously coloured polyanthuses and primroses by watering them
‘with certain coloured fluids, which was of course a monstrous
fable, and had never been tried by me. I may here also con-
fess that as a little boy I was much given to inventing delib-
‘erate falsehoods, and this was always done for the sake of
‘eatising excitement. For instance, I once gathered much
‘valuable fruit from my father's trees and hid it in the shrub-
Bory, and then ran in breathless haste to spread the news
that I had discovered a hoard of stolen fruit.
‘Tmpast have been a very simple little fellow when I first
‘went to the school, A boy of the name of Garnett took
‘into a cake shop one day, and bought some cakes for which
he did not pay, as the shopman trusted him. When we came
‘out I asked him why he did not pay for them, and he instant-
ly answered, “Why, do you not know that my uncle left
@ great sum of money to the town on condition that every
tradesman should give whatever was wanted without pay+
ment to any one who wore his old hat and moved [it] in a
manner?” and he then shawed me how it was
moved. He then went into another shop where he was
trusted, and asked for some small article, moving his hat in
‘the proper manner, and of course obtained it without pay»
‘ment, When we came out he said, “Now if you like to go
by yourself into that cake-shop (how well T remember its
‘exeet position) 1 will lend yen my hat, and you cas gee wh:
‘ever you like f you move the hat on your head properl;
T gladly accepted the generous offer, and went in and asked
for some cakes, moved the old hat and was walking out of
‘the shop, when the shopman made a rush at me, so I dropped
‘the cakes and ran for dear life, and was astonished by
a
28 AUTONIOGRAPHY,
being greeted with shouts of laughter by my false friend
Garnett.
Tecan say in my own favour that I was as a boy humane,
wut T owed this entirely to the instruction and example of my
sisters. 1 doubt indeed whether humanity is a natural or in~
nate quality. Iwas very fond of collecting eggs, but I never
took more than a single egg out of a bird’s nest, except on
one single occasion, when f took all, not for their value, but
from a sort of bravado,
Thad a strong taste for angling, and would sit for any
number of hours on the bank of a river or pond watching
the float; when at Maer* I was told that I could kill the
worms with salt and water, and from that day I never spitted
a living worm, though at the expense probably of some loss
of success,
Once as a very litte boy whilst at the day school, or be-
fore that time, { acted cruelly, for I beat a puppy, I believe,
simply from enjoying the sense of power; but the beating
could not have been severe, for the puppy did not howl, of
which I feel sure, as the spot was near the house This act
lay heavily on my conscience, as is shown by my remember=
ing the exact spot where the crime was committed. Tt prob-
ably lay all the heavier from my love of dogs being then, and
for a long time afterwards, a passion, Dogs seemed to know
this, for 1 was an adept in robbing their love from their
masters.
I remember clearly only one other incident during this
year whilst at Mr, Case's daily school,—namely, the burial of
a dragoon soldier; and it is surprising how clearly ¥ can still
te the horse with the man’s empty boots and carbine sus:
pended to the saddle, and the firing over the graye, ‘This
scene deeply stirred whatever poetic fancy there was in me, ¥
In the summer of 1818 I went to Dr. Butler's great school
in Shrewsbury, and remained there for seven years till Mid-
summer 1825, when I was sixteen years old, I boarded at
Phe home of his uncle, Josiah Wedgwood,
this school, so that T had the great advantage of living the
life of a true schoolboy ; but as the distance was hardly more
than a mile to my home, I very often ran there in the longer
intervals between the callings over and before locking up at
night. ‘This, I think, was in many ways advantageous to me
by keeping up home affections and interests. I remember
in the early part of my school life that I often had to run
very quickly to be in time, and from being a ficet runner was
generally successful; but when in doubt I prayed earnestly
to God to help me, and I well remember that I attributed my
fuccess to the prayers and not to my quick running, and
marvelled how generally I was aided,
T have heard my father and elder sister say that I had, as
a rery young boy, a strong taste for long solitary walks; but
what I thought about [ know not, I often became quite
absorbed, and once, whilst returning to school on the summit
of the old fortifications round Shrewsbury, which had been
converted into a public foot-path with no parapet on one
aide, 1 walked off and fell to the ground, but the height was
+ only seven or cight fect. Nevertheless the number of thoughts
which passed through my mind during this very short, but
sudden and wholly unexpected fall, was astonishing, and
seem hardly compatible with what physiologists have, I be-
Tieve, proved about each thought requiring quite an appreci-
able amount of time.
Nothing could have been worse for the development of
my mind than Dr, Butler's school, as it was strictly classical,
nothing else being taught, except a little ancient geography
@ed history. The school as a means of education to me was
simplya blank, During my whole life I have been singularly
incapable of mastering any Janguage. Especial attention was
paid % verse-making, and this I could never do well. Thad
fany friends, and got together a good collection of old
Verses, which by patching together, sometimes aided by other
‘boys, F could work into any subject. Much attention was
‘paid t6 learning by heart the lessonsvof the previous day;
this T could effect with great facility, learning forty or fifty
|
jo AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
Hines of Virgil or Homer, whilst I was in morning chapel; but
this exercise was utterly useless, for every verse was forgotten
in forty-eight hours, I was not idle, and with the exception of
versification, generally worked conscientiously at my classics,
not using cribs, ‘The sole pleasure T ever received from such
studies, was from some of the odes of Horace, which I ad-
mired greatly.
When Left the school I was for my age neither high nor
Jow in it; and E believe that 1 was considered by all my mas-
ters and by my father as a very ordinary boy, rather below
the common standard jn intellect. ‘To my deep mortification
my father once said to me, “You care for nothing but shoot
ing, dogs, and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace to
yourself and all your family.” But my father, who was the
Kindest man I ever knew and whose memory I love with all
my heart, must have been angry and somewhat unjust when
he used such words.
Looking back as well ax I can at my character during
my school life, the only qualities whieh at this period promised
well for the future, were, that I had strong and diversified
tastes, much zeal for whatever interested me, and a keen
pleasure in understanding any complex subject or thing. I
was taught Euclid by a private tutor, and I distinctly remem=
ber the intense satisfaction which the clear geometrical proofs
gave me. I remember, with equal distinctness, the delight
which my uncle gave me (the father of Francis Galton) by
explaining the principle of the vernier of a barometer. With
respect to diversified tastes, independently of science, I was
fond of reading various books, and I waed to sit for hours.
reading the historical plays of Shakespeare, generally in an
old window in the thick walls of theschool, J read also other
poetry, such as ‘Thomson's ‘Scasons,” and the recently pub=
lished poems of Byron and Scott. I mention this because
later in tife T wholly lost, to my great regret, all pleasure from
poetry of any kind, including Shakespeare. In connection
with pleasure from poetry, may add that in 1822 a vivid
delight in scenery was first awakened in my mind, during a
3
of Wales, and this has lasted longer
sesthetic pleasure.
Early in my school days a boy had a copy of the ‘Won-
ders of the World,’ which T often reud, and disputed with
‘other boys about the yesactty of some of the statements; and
I believe that this book first gave me a wish to travel in re-
mate countries, which was ultimately fulfilled by the voyage
‘of the Banele. In the latter part of my school life 1 became
fond of shooting ; I do not believe that any one
could have shown more zeal for the most holy cause than I
did for shooting birds, How well I remember killing my first
Snipe, and iy excitement was so great that I had much diffi~
‘eulty i reloading my gun from the trembling of my hands.
‘This taste long continued, and I became a very good shot.
‘When at Cambridge I used to practise throwing up my gun
to my shoulder liefore a looking-glass to see that I threw it up
‘straight, Another and better plan was to get a friend to wave
bout alighted candle, and then to fire at it with a cap on
the nipple, and if the aim was accurate the little puff of ai
‘would blow out the candle. The explosion of the cap caused
@ sharp crack, and I was told that the tutor of the college re-
marked, “What an extraordinary thing it is, Mr. Darwin
‘seems to spend hours in cracking a horse-whip in his room,
for T often hear the crack when 1 pass under his windows,”
‘Thad many friends amongst the schoolboys, whom I loved
dearly, and I think that my disposition was then very affec-
‘timate.
‘With respeet to science, { cominued collecting minerals
‘with much zeal, but quite unscientifically—all that I cared
about was a new-named mineral, and 1 hardly attempted to
them, I must have observed insects with some litte
‘eare, for when ten years old (1819) I went for three weeks to
‘Plas Edwards on the sea-coast in Wales, I was very much in-
Aerested and surprised at seeing a large black and se:
‘Hemipterous insect, many moths (Zygana), and a Cicindela
Re es in Shropshire. I almost made up my
r ‘begin collecting all the insects which 1 could find
|
=
32 AUTOBIOGRAPITY,
dead, for on consulting my sister 1 concluded that it was not
right to kill inscets for the sake of making a collection,
From reading White's ‘Selborne,’ I took much pleasure in
watching the habits of birds, and even made notes on the
subject. In my simplicity I remember wondering why every
gentleman did not become an ornithologist,
‘Towards the close of my school life, my brother worked
hard at chemistry, and made a fair laboratory with proper
apparatus in the tool-house in the garden, and { was allowed
to aid him as a servant in most of his experiments. He mado
all the gases and many compounds, and I read with great
care several books on chemistry, such as Henry and Parkes’
‘Chemical Catechism.’ The subject interested me greatly,
and we often used to go on working till rather late at night,
‘This was the best part of my education at school, for it showed
me practically the meaning of experimental science. ‘The
fact that we worked at chemistry somehow got known at school,
and as it was an unprecedented fact, I was nickuamed
“Gas,” Iwas also once publicly rebuked by the head-master,
Dr, Butler, for thus wasting my time on such useless subjects;
and he called me very unjustly a“ poco curante,” and as
did not understand what he meant, st seemed to me a fearful
reproach,
‘As L was doing no good at school, my father wisely took
me away at a rather earlier age than usual, and sent me (Oct,
1825) to Edinburgh University with my brother, where I
stayed for two years or sessions. My brother was completing
his medical studies, though T do not believe he ever really in-
tended to practise, and [ was sent there to commence them,
Bur soon after this period I became convinced from various
small circumstances that my father would leave me property
enough to subsist on with some comfort, though I never
imagined that 1 should be so rich a man as Tam; but my
belief was sufficient to check any strenuous efforts to learn
medicine,
The instruction at Edinburgh was altogether by lectures,
and these were intolerably dull, with the exception of those
33
but to my mind there are no adyan-
vantages in lectures compared with read-
lectures on Materia Medica at $ o'clock
winter's are something fearful ta remember.
‘Dr. — made his lectures on human anatomy as dull as he
was himself, and the subject disgusted me. It has proved
one of the greatest evils in my life that J was not urged to
practise dissection, for 1 should soon have got over my dis-
gust ; and the practice would have been invaluable for all my
future work. This hrs been an irremediable evil, as well as
to draw. [also attended regularly the clinical
wards in the hospital. Some of the cases distressed me a
good deal, and I still have vivid pictures before me of some
of them ; but 1 was not so foolish as to allow this to lessen
my attendance. I cannot understand why this part of my
Bese ure att ‘not interest me ina greater degree ; for
during the summer before coming to Edinburgh I began at-
os ell ‘the poor people, chiefly children and women
I wrote down as full an account as 1 could
aren. all the symptoms, and read them aloud to
eels Suggested further inquiries and advised me
‘what medicines to give, which I made up myself. At one
‘time [had at least a dozen patients, and I felt a keen interest
the work. My father, who was by far the best judge of
character whom I ever knew, declared that 1 should make a
‘successful physician,—meaning by this one who would get
He maintained that the chief element of suc+
‘cess was exciting confidence ; but what he saw in me which
‘convinced him that I should create confidence I know not.
‘T also attended on two occasions the operating theatre in the
Aospital at Edinburgh, and saw two yery bad operations, one
on a child, but 1 rushed away before they wer:
Nor did 1 ever attend again, for hardly any it
‘would have been strong enough to make me do
ng before the blessed days of chloroform. ‘The two cases
ime for many a long year,
~My brotherstayed only one yearat the University, so that
— rea
ce AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
during the second year I was left to my own resources ; and
this was an advantage, for I became well acquainted with
several young men fond of natural science. One of these
“was Ainsworth, who afterwards published his travels in As-
tyrias he was a Wernerian geologist, and knew a little about
many subjects. Dr. Coldstream was a very different young
man, prim, formal, highly religions, and most kindshearted ;
he afterwards published some good zoological articles, A
third young man was Hardie, who would, I think, have made
a good botanist, but died early in India. Lastly, Dr. Grant,
my senior by several years, but how 1 became acquainted
with him I cannot remember; he published some firsterate
zoological papers, but after coming to London as Professor
in University College, he did nothing more in science, a fact
which has always been inexplicable to me. 1 knew him well;
he was dry and formal in manner, with much enthusiasm
beneath this outer crust. He one day, when we were walke
‘ing together, burst forth in high admiration of Lamarck and
his views on evolution, I listened in silent astonishment, and.
8 far as T can judge without any effect on my mind. T had
previously read the *Zoonomia ’ of my grandfather, in which
similar views are maintained, but without producing any effect
‘om me. Nevertheless it is probable that the hearing rather
early in life such views maintained and praised may have
favoured my upholding them under a different form in my
“Origin of Species." At this time 1 admired greatly the
*Zoonomia;" but on reading it a second time after an inter~
val of ten or fifteen years, I was much disappointed ; the
proportion of speculation being so large to the facts given,
Drs. Grant and Coldstream attended much to marine
Zoology, and T often accompanied the former to collect ani
mals in the tidal pools, which T dissected as well as T could,
T also became friends with some of the Newhaven fishermen,
and sometithes accompanied them when they tawled for
‘oysters, and thus got many specimens, But from not having
had any regular practice in dissection, and from possessing
only a wretched microscope, my attempts were very poor,
"EDINBURGH. 35
‘one Interesting little discovery, and read,
about the beginning of the year 1826, a short paper on the
subject before the Plinian Society. ‘This was that the so-
called ova of Flustra had the power of independent mover
ment by means of cilia, and were in fact lurve, In another
short paper I showed that the little globular bodies which had
heen supposed to be the young state of Aucus doreus were the
eee cases of the wormlike Pontobdelia murécata,
‘The Plinian Society was encouraged and, 1 believe,
founded by Professor Jameson : it consisted of students and
met in an underground room in the University for the sake
‘of reading papers on natural science and discussing them. T
‘used regularly to attend, and the meetings had a good effect
oo me in stimulating my zeal and giving me new congenial
soqetintances, One evening a poor young man got up, and
after stammering for a prodigious length of time, blushing
crimson, he at last slowly got out the words, “ Mr. President,
T have forgotten what I was going to say.” ‘The poor fellow
Jooked quite overwhelmed, and all the members were so sur
Prised that no one could think of a word to say to cover his
confusion, The papers which were read to our little society
‘were not printed, so that { had not the satisfaction of secing
sy paper in print ; but I believe Dr. Grant noticed my small
discovery in his excellent memoir on Flastro.
“Twas also a member of the Royal Medical Society, and
‘attended pretty regularly; but ns the subjects were exclusively
medical, did not much care about them, Much rubbish
was talked there, but there were some good speakers, of whom
‘the best was the present Sir). Kay-Shuttleworth. Dy, Grant
took me occasionally to the meetings of the Wernerian So-
‘ciety, where various papers on natural history were read, dine
cussed, and afterwards published in the ‘Transactions.’ 1
Treard Audubon deliver there some interesting discourses on
the babits of N, American birds, sneering somewhat unjustly
a the way, * negro lived in Edinburgh, who
ith Waterton, and gained his livelihood by
ata et which he did excellently: he gave me lessons
36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
for payment, and I used often to sit with him, for he was a
very pleasant and intelligent man.
Mr. Leonard Horner also took me once to a meeting of
the Royal Society of Edinburgh, where 1 saw Sir Walter
Scott in the chair as President, and he apologised to the
‘meeting a¥ not feeling fitted for such a position. I looked at
him and at the whole scene with some awe and reverence,
and I think it was owing to this visit during my youth, and
to my having attended the Royal Medical Society, that I felt
the honour of being elected a few years ago an honorary
member of both these Societies, more than any other similar
honour, If f had been told at that time that I should one
day have been thus honoured, I declare that [ should have
thought it as ridiculous and improbable, as if 1 had been told
that I should be elected King of England.
During my second year at Edinburgh I attended —'s
lectures on Geology and Zoology, but they were incredibly
dull, The sole effect they produced on me was the determi-
nation never as long as I lived to read a book on Geology,
or in any way to study the science. Yet I feel sure that I
was prepared for a philosophical treatment of the subject ;
for an old Mr. Cotton in Shropshire, who knew a good deal
about rocks, had pointed out to me two or three years previ-
ously a well-known large erratic boulder in the town of
Shrewsbury, called the “bell-stone"; he told me that there
was no rock of the same kind nearer than Cumberland or
Scotland, and he solemnly assured me that the world would
come to an end before any one would be able to explain how
this stone came where it now lay, This produced a deep
impression on me, and I meditated over this wonderful stone,
So that I felt the keenest delight when T first read of the
action of icebergs in transporting boulders, and T gloried in
the progress of Geology, Equally striking is the fact that I,
though now only sixty-seven years old, heard the Professor,
ina field lecture at Salisbury Craigs, discoursing on a trap
dyke, with amygdatoidal margins and the strata indurated om
each side, with volcanic rocks all around ns, say that it was s
7
fissure filled with sediment from above, adding with a sneer
that there were men who maintained that it had been injected
from beneath in a molten condition. When J think of this
Jecture, 1 do not wonder that I determined never to attend
‘to Geology.
‘From attending ——'s lectures, T became acquainted with
the curator of the museum, Mr. Macgillivray, who afterwards
published a large and excellent book on the birds of Scotland.
Thad much interesting natural-history talk with hin, and be
was very kind to me, He gave me some rare shells, for Lat
‘that time collected marine mollusca, but with no great zeal,
‘My summer vacations during these two years were wholly
given up to amusements, though T always had some book in
band, which I read with interest, During the summer of
4826 I took 2 long walking tour with two friends with knap-
sucks on our bucks through North Wales. We walked thirty
‘miles most days, including one day the ascent of Snowdon,
I also went with my sister a riding tour in North Wales, a
servant with saddle-bags carrying our clothes. ‘The autumns
‘were devoted to shooting chiefly at Mr. Owen's, at Woodhouse,
and at my Uncle Jos’s," at Macr, My zeal was so great that 1
‘nsed to place my shooting-boots open by my bed-side when I
‘went to bed, so as not to Jose half a minute in putting them
‘on in the morning ; and on one occasion I reached a distant
part of the Maer estate, on the 2oth of August for black-game
shooting, before I could see: I then toiled an with the garme-
ag day through thick heath and young Scotch
pect er tears record of every bird which I shot through-
‘out the whole season. One day when shooting at Wood-
house with Captain Owen, the eldest son, and Major Hill, his
cousin, afterwards Lord Berwick, both of whom I liked very
much, 1 if shamefully used, for every time after
‘I bad fired and thought that I had killed a bird, one of the
twoacted as if loading his gun, and cried out, “You must not
Wedgwood, the son of the founder of the Etruria Works
38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
count that bird, for I fired at the same time,” and the game~
keeper, perceiving the joke, backed them up, After some
hours they told me the joke, but it was no joke to me, for 1
had shot a large number of birds, but did not know how
many, and could not add them to my list, which T used to do
by making a knot ina piece af string tied to a button-hole,
This my wicked friends had perceived.
How I did enjoy shooting! but I think that I must have
been half-consciously ashamed of my aval, for I tried to per
suade myself that shooting vas almost an intellectual employ-
ment; it required so much skill to judge where to find most
game and to hunt the dogs well,
One of my autumnal visits to Maer in 1827 was memorar
ble from meeting there Sir J. Mackintosh, who was the best
converser I ever listened to. I heard afterwards with a
glow of pride that he had said, “ There is something in that
young man that interests me." This must have been chiefly
due to his perceiving that I listened with much interest to
everything which he said, for T was as ignorant as a pig about
his subjects of history, politics, and moral philosophy. To
hear of praise fram an eminent person, though no doubt apt
of certain to excite vanity, is, 1 think, good for a young man,
as it helps to keep him in the right course,
My visits to Maer during these two or three succeeding
years were quite delightful, independently of the autumnal
shooting. Life there was perfectly free; the country was
very pleasant for walking or riding: and in the evening there
was much very agreeable conversation, not so personal as it
generally is in large family parties, together with music. Tn
the summer the whole family used often to sit on the steps of
the old portico, with the fower-garden in front, and with the
steep wooded bank opposite the house reflected in the lake,
with here and there a fish rising or a water-bird paddling
about. Nothing has left a more vivid picture on my mind
than these evenings at Maer, 1 was also attached to and
greatly revered my Uncle Jos: he was silent and reserved, so
as to be a rather awful man; but he sometimes talked openly
a9
He wag the very type of an upright man, with the
sa T do not believe that any power on earth
have made him swerve an inch from what he consid-
ered the right course. [ used to apply to-him in my mind
the well-known ode of Horace, now forgotten by me, in which
‘words “nec yultus tyranni, &c.,"* come in.
Cambridge 1828-1831.—After having spent two sessions in
Edinburgh, my father perceived, or he heard from my sisters,
that I did not Tike the thought of being a physician, so he
propesed that I should become a clergyman. He was very
properly vehement against my turning into an idle sporting
‘mia, which then seemed my probable destination. 1 asked
for some time to consider, as from what little T had heard or
thought on the subject I had scruples about declaring my
‘Delief in all the dogmas of the Church of England; though
‘otherwise I liked the thought of being a country clergyman.
Accordingly I read with care ‘ Pearson on the Creed,’ and a
few other books on divinity; and as I did not then in the
Teast doubt the strict and literal truth of every word in the
Bible, T soon persuaded myself that our Creed must be fully
Considering how fiercely I have been attacked by the
orthodox, it seems ludicrous that I once intended to be a
Nor was this intention and my father’s wish ever
formally given up, but died o natural death when, on leaving
Cambridge, I joined the Acayie as naturalist. If the phre~
‘mologists are to be trusted, I was well fitted in one respect to
Be a clergyman. A few years ago the secretaries of a Ger-
‘man psychological society asked me earnestly by letter for
‘a photograph of myself; and some time afterwards I received
“the proceedings of ane of the mectings, in which it seemed that
‘the shape of my head had been the subject of a public discus-
I I
Justum et tenacem proponitt viram
Non eisinm andor pave jubentium,
Non vultus instantis tyrant
‘Mente quatit solid.
£4
\ sion, and one of the speakers declared that I had the
of reverence developed enough for ten priests.
‘As it was decided that 1 should be a clergyman, it was
necessary that I should yo to one of the English universities
and take a degree; but as 1 had never opened a classical
‘book since leaving school, I found to my dismay, that in the
two intervening years I had actually forgotten, credible as it
may appear, almost everything which T had learnt, even to
some few of the Greek letters. 1 did not therefore proceed
to Cambridge at the usual time in October, but worked with
@ private tutor in Shrewsbury, and went to Cambridge after
‘the Christinas vacation, early in 1828, I soon recovered my
‘school standard of knowledge, and could translate casy Gi
books, such as Homer and the Greck Testament, with
ate facility.
During the three years which I spent at Cambridge
time was wasted, as far ax the academical studies were
cerned, as completely as at Edinburgh and at school, 1
tempted mathematics, and even went during the sum
1838 with a private tutor (a very dull man) to Barmouth,
T got on very slowly, ‘The work was repugnant to me, chi
from my not being able to sce any meaning in the carly
in algebra. This impatience was very foolish, and in
years T have deeply regretted that T did not proceed
enough at least to understand something of the great lea
principles of mathematics, for_men thus endowed seem to
have an extra sense, But I do not believe that I should ever
have succeeded beyond a very low grade. With respect to
Classics I did nothing except attend a few compulsory college
lectures, and the attendance was almost nominal. In my
second year T had to work for a month or two to pass the —
Little-Go, which 1 did casily, Again, in my last year T
worked with some earnestness for my final degree of B, Aw
and brushed up my Classics, together with a little Algebra
and Euclid, which latter gave me much pleasure, as it did at
school. In order to pass the B. A. examination, it was albo-
necessary to get up Paley’s ‘ Evidences of Christianity,” and
Sa J
-_
across country, I got into a sporting set, including some dis
sipated low-minded young men. We used often to dine
together in the evening, though these dinners often included:
men of a higher stamp, and we sometimes drank too much,
with jolly singing and playing at cards afterwards. 1 know
that T ought to feel ashamed of days and evenings thus spent,
but as some of my friends were very pleasant, and we were
all in the highest spirits, I cannot help looking back to these
times with much pleasure.
But Lam glad to think that I had many other friends of a
widely different nature. I was very intimate with Whitley,”
who was afterwards Senior Wrangler, and we used continu»
ally to take long walks together. He inoculated me with a
taste for pictures and good engravings, of which T bought
some, I frequently went to the Fitzwilliam Gallery, and my
taste must have been fairly good, for I certainly admired the
best pictures, which I discussed with the old curator, Tf read
also with much interest Sir Joshua Reynolds’ book. This
taste, though not natural to me, lasted for several years, and
many of the pictures in the National Gallery in London gave
me much pleasure ; that of Sebastian del Piombo exciting in
me a sense of sublimity,
T also got into a musical set, I believe by means of my
warm-hearted friend, Herbert,f who took a high wrangler’s
dogree. From associating with these men, and hearing them
play, T acquired a strong taste for music, and used very often
to time my walks so as to hear on week days the anthem in
King’s College Chapel, This gave me intense pleasure, ee
that my backbone would sometimes shiver. I am sure that
there was no affectation or mere imitation in this taste, for I
used generally to go by myself to King’s College, and T some
times hired the chorister boys to sing In my rooms, Never:
* Rev. G Whitley, Hon, Canon of Durham, formerly Keader in Natt
tal Philosphy in Durham University.
The late John Maurice Herbert, County Court Judge of Canlif and
the Monmouth Cixeuit.
43
‘utterly destitute of an car, that J cannot per-
‘keep time and hum a tune correctly; and |
a discord, or
it is a mystery how I could possibly have derived pleasure
from music.
“My masieal friends soon perceived my state, and some-
times amused themselves by making me pass an examination,
which consisted in ascertaining how many tunes I could rec~
ognise when they were played rather more quickly or slowly
than usual, ‘God save the King,’ when thus played, was a
sore puzrle. There was another man with almost as bad an
‘ear a8 T had, and strange to say he played a little on the flute,
‘Once Thad the triumph of beating him-in one of our musical
se
“But no pursuit at Cambridge was followed with nearly so
‘or gaye me so much pleasure as collecting
‘Deetles. It was the mere passion for collecting, for 1 did not
dissect them, and rarely compared their external characters ~
with published descriptions, but got them named anyhow, 1
‘will give a proof of my zeal: one day, on tearing off some old
Wark, I saw two rare beetles, and seized one in each hand;
then I'stw a third and new kind, which 1 could not bear to
Jose, so that I popped the one which I held in my right hand
into my mouth, Alau! it ejected some intensely acrid fluid,
which burnt my tongue so that I was forced to ypit the beetle
out, which was lost, as was the third one.
-- Ewits very successful in collecting, and invented two new
bottom of the barges in aici geeas
are brought from the fens, and thus T got some very rare
species. No poet ever felt more delighted at sceing his frst
poem published than I did at seeing, in Stephens’ * [llustra-
tions of British Insects,’ the magic words, “captured by C.
‘Darwin, Esq.” 1 was introduced to entomology by my see=
‘otal cousin, W. Darwin Fox, a clever and most pleasant man,
‘at Christ's College, and with whom T became
Afterwards I became well acquainted,
M4
and went ont collecting, with Albert nBtey erie oho in
after years became a well-known archeologist; also with H,.
‘Thompson of the same College, afterwards a leading agricult-
urist, in of a great railway, and Member of Parliae
ment, Tt seems therefore that a taste for collecting beetles ix
some indication of future success in life!
Iam surprised what an indelible impression many of the
beetles which I caught at Cambridge have left on my mind.
Ican remember the exact appearance of certain posts, old
trees and banks where I made a good capture. ‘The pretty
Panagirus crus-major wag a treasure in those days, and here
at Down I saw a beetle running across a walk, and on picking
it up instantly perceived that it differed slightly from 2 ertx-
major, and it turned out to be /. guadripunctatus, which is
only a variety ot closely allied species, differing from it v
slightly in outline. { had never scen in those old days Li
nus alive, which to an uneducated cye hardly differs from
many of the black Carabidous beetles; but my sons found
here a specimen, and I instantly recognized that it was new
tome; yet 1 had not looked at a British beetle for the last
twenty years,
T have not as yet mentioned a circumstance which influ
enced my whole career more than any other, This was my . +
friendship with Professor Henslow. Before coming up to
Cambridge, 1 had heard of him from my brother as a man
who knew every branch of science, and I was accordingly pre~
pared (o reverence him, He kept open house once every
week when all undergraduates, and some older members of
the University, who were attached to science, used to meet
in the evening. I soon got, through Fox, an invitation, and
went there regularly. Before long T became well acquainted
with Henslow, and during the latter half of my time at Cam-
bridge took long walks with him on most days ; so that Twas
called by some of the dons “the man who walks with Hens
low; and in the evening I was very often asked to join his
family dinner, His knowledge was great in botany, ento-
mology, chemistry, mineralogy, and geology. His strongest
Ae all
46 a ty.
tubes exserted, and instantly rushed off to communicate my
surprising discovery to him. Now I do not suppose any
other professor of botany could have helped laughing at my.
coming in such a hurry to make such a communication. But
‘he agreed how interesting the phenomenon was, and explained
its meaning, but made me clearly understand how well it was
known; so I left him not in the least mortified, but well
pleased at having discovered for myself so remarkable a fact,
but determined not to be in such a hurry again to communi-
cate my discoveries.
Dr. Whewell was one of the older and distinguished men
who sometimes visited Henslow, and on several occasions T
walked home with him/at night. Next to Sir J. Mackintosh
he was the best converser on grave subjects to whom I ever
listened, Leonard Jenyns,” who afterwards published some
good essays in Natural History,+ often stayed with Henslow,
who was his brother-indaw. I visited him at his
on the borders of the Fens [Swaffham Bulbeck}, and had
many a good walk and talk with him about Natural History.
T became also acquainted with several other men older than
me, who did not care much about science, but were friends
of Henslow, Onewas a Scotchman, brother of Sir Alexander
Ramsay, and tutor of Jesus College: he was a delightful man,
but did not live for many years. Another was Mr, Dawes,
afterwards Dean of Hereford, and famous for his success in
the education of the poor, ‘These men and others of the
same standing, together with Henslow, used sometimes to
take distant excursions into the country, which I was allowed
to join, and they were most agrecable.
Looking back, 1 infer that there must have been some-
thing in me a little superior to the common run of youths,
otherwise the above-mentioned men, so much older than me
and higher in academical position, would never have allawed
# The wellknown Soame fenyns was cousin to Mr. Jenyns” ther.
4 Mr. Jenyns (now Blomefield) descrihed the fish for the Zoology of
athe Beagle and \s author of a long series of papers, chielly Zoological.
pany him,* Accordingly he came and slept at my father’s.
‘Asshort conversation with him during this evening pro-
duced @ strong impression on my mind. Whilst examining
an old gravelypit near Shrewsbury, a labourer told me that he
had found in it a large worn tropical Volute shell, such 28
may be seen on the chimney-pieces of cottages; and as he
would not sell the shell, I was convinced that he had really
found it in the pit. I told Sedgwick of the fact, and he at
once said (no doubt truly) that it must have been thrown
away by some one into the pit; but then added, if really em-
bedded there it would be the greatest misfortune to paid
as it would overthrow all that we know about
deposits of the Midland Counties. These gravel-| beds b
in fact to the glacial period, and in after years I found in them.
broken arctic shells, But I was then utterly astonished at
Sedgwick not being delighted at so wonderful a fact aa
tropical shell being found near the surface in the middle of
England. Nothing before had ever made me thoroughly
realise, though I had read various scientific books, that
science consists in grouping facts so that gencral laws or con+
clusions may be drawn from them.
Next morning we started for Llangollen, Conway, Bangor,
and Capel Curig. ‘This tour was of decided use in teaching
me alittle how to make out the geology of a country. Sedg-
wick often sent me on a line parallel to his, telling me to
bring back specimens of the rocks and to mark the stratificas
tion ona map, I have little doubt that he did this for my
good, as I was too ignorant to have aided him. On this tour
In connection with this tour my father mol to tell @ story about
Sedgwick © they had started from their ina one morning, and had walked
A mile oF two, when Selgwick suddenly stopped, and vowed that he would
refuien, being certain “that dames seoundrel™ (Uhe waiter) had noe given
the chambermaid the sixpence intrusted to him for the purpose. He wat
ultimately perwaded to give up the project, seeing that there was no
reason for suspecting the walter of especial perfidy PF, Ds
“THE YovAcE. 49
of how easy it is to overlook phe»
conspicuous, before they have been observed
by any one, We spent many hours in Cwm Idwal, examin-
ing all the rocks with extreme care, as Sedgwick was anxious
‘to find fossils in them ; but neither of us saw a trace of the
Wonderful glacial phenomena all around us; we did not
notice the plainly scored rocks, the perched boulders, the
Tateral and terminal moraines. Yet these phenomena are so
‘conspicuous that, ax f declared in a paper published many
‘years afterwards in the ‘ Philosophical Magazine,'* a house
‘burst down by fire did not tell its story more plainly than did
this valley. If it had still been filled by « glacier, the phe-
Homens would have been less distinct than they now are,
‘At Capel Curig I left Sedgwick and went in a straight line
by compass and map across the mountains to Barmouth,
any track unless it coincided with my course.
‘T thus came on some strange wild places, and enjoyed much
this manner of travelling. I visited Barmouth to see some
Cambridge friends who were reading there, and thence re-
turned to Shrewsbury asd to Mace for shooting; for at that
time T should have thought myself mad to give up the first
‘days of partridge-shooting for geology or any other science.
Voyage of the ' Beagle’ from December 27, 1831, to October 2,
r8y6.
On returning home from my short geological tour im North
Wales, I found a letter from Henslow, informing me that
‘Captain FitzRoy was willing to give up part of his own
cabin to any young man who would volunteer to go with him
D without pay as naturalist to the Voyage of the Beagle. 1
have given, as I believe, in my MS. Journal an account of
‘ail the circiimstances which then occurred; I will here only
‘say that I was instantly cager to accept the offer, but my
father strongly objected, adding the words, fortunate for me,
** Philovophical Magarine,’ 1342.
- ss
50
“If you can find any man of common sense who advises you
to go I will give my consent.” So I wrote that evening and~
refused the offer, On the next morning I went to Maer to he
ready for September rst, and, whilst out shooting, my uncle?
sent for me, offering to drive me over to Shrewsbury and
talk with my father, as my uncle thought it would be wise in
me to accept the offer, My father always maintained that he
was one of the most sensible men in the world, and he at
‘once consented in the kindest manner, I had been rather
extravagant at Cambridge, and to console my father, said,
“that I should be deuced clever to spend more than my
allowance whilst on board the Zeagie " but he answered with
a smile, “But they tell me you are very clever.”
Next day I started for Cambridge to see Henslow, and
thence to London to see Fitz-Roy, and all was soon arranged.
‘Afterwards, on becoming very intimate with Fits-Roy, T
heard that I had run a very nartow rink of being rejected, on
account of the shape of my nose! He was an ardent dis-
ciple of Lavater, and was convinced that he could judge of a
man's character by the outline of bis features; and he doubted
whether any one with my nose could possess sufficient energy
and determination for the voyage, But I think he was after«
wards well satisfied that my nose had spoken falsely.
Fite-Roy's character was a singular one, with very many
noble features; he was devoted to his duty, generous to #
fault, bold, determined, and indomitably energetic, and an
ardent friend to all under his sway. Fe would undertake
any sort of trouble to assist those whom he thought deserved
assistance. He was a handsome man, strikingly like a gentle
man, with highly courteous manners, which resembled those
of his maternal uncle, the famous Lord Castlereagh, as T was
told by the Minister at Rio, Nevertheless hg must have
inherited much in his appearance from Charles IL, for Dr.
Wallich gave me a, collection of photogr: phs which he had
made, and I was struck with the resemblance of one to Fitz
* Josiah Wedgwood.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
powers of observation were improved, though they were —
always fairly developed.
The investigation of the geology of all the places visited
was far more important, as reasoning here comes into play.
On first examining a new district nothing can appear more
hopeless than the chaos of rocks ; but by recording the strati-
fication and nature of the rocks and fossils at many points,
always reasoning and predicting what will be found else
where, Hight soon begins to dawn on the district, and the
structure of the whole becomes more or less intelligible. 1
had brought with me the first volume of Lyell’s ‘Principles
of Geology,’ which I studied attentively; and the book was
‘of the highest service to me in many ways, The very first
place which I examined, namely St Jago in the/Cape de
‘Verde islands, showed me clearly the wonderfuN’ superiority
‘of Lyell's manner of treating geology, compa: that of
any other author, whose works I had with me fal after.
wards read. ti
Another of my occupations was collecting?" is of all
classes, briefly describing and roughly dissect pany of the,
murine ones; but from not being able to drag.) from not
having sufficient anatomical knowledge, a g/tkhe Je of MS. #
which T made during the voyage has prov useless.
T thus lost much time, with the exception; ® pv spent in
acquiring some knowledge of the CrustacestY> ts this was of
service when in after years I undertook a nétfugraph of the
Cirripedia.
During some part of the day T wrote my Journal, and
took much pains in describing carefully and vividly all that
Thad seen ; and this was good practice. My Journal served
also, in part, as letters to my home, and portions were sent
to England whenever there was an opportunity.
The above various special studies were, however, of no
importance compared with the habit of energetic industry
and of concentrated attention to whatever I was engaged in,
which I then acquired. Everything about which 1 thought
or read was made to bear directly on what I had seen or was
fai ssl
4
tor, as I fully expected to hear the verdict that T was
not fit for the voyage, and I was resolved to go at all
hazards,
1 need not here refer to the events of the voyage—where
we went and what we did—as [ have given a sufficiently full
acconnt in my published Journal, ‘The glories of the vege-
tation of the Tropics rise before my mind at the present time
more vividly than anything else ; though the sense of sub-
limity, which the great deserts of Patagonia and the forest-
clad mountains of ‘Tierra del Fuego excited in me, has left
an indelible impression on my mind. ‘The sight of a naked.
savage in his native land is an event which can never be for-
gotten, Many of my excursions on horseback through wild
‘countries, or in the boats, some of which lasted several weeks,
were deeply interesting: their discomfort and some degree
of danger were at that time hardly a drawback, and none at
all afterwards, 1 also reflect with high satisfaction on some
‘of my scientific work, such as solving the problem of coral
idands, and making out the geological structure of certain
islands, for instance, St, Helena, Nor must I pass over
the discovery of the singular relations of the animals and
plants inhabiting the several islands of the Galapagos archi+
pelago, and of all of them to the inhabitants of South
America,
As far as Tcan judge of myself, I worked to the utmost
during the voyage from the mere pleasure of investigation,
anrl from my strong desire to add a few facts (o the great mass
of facts in Natural ce. But 1 was also ambitious to take
a fair place among scientific men,—whether more ambitious
oF less so than most of my fellow-workers, I can form
opinion. ‘
The geology af St. Jago is very striking, yet simple: a
stream of lava formerly flowed over the bed of the seu, formed
Of triturated recent shells and corals, which it has baked into
ahard white rock, Since then the whole island has been up>
heaved But the line of white rock revealed to me anewand
important fact, namely, that there had been afterwards subsi-
55
which had since been in action, +3
forth fava. It then first dawned on me
nore “write a book on the geology of the a
‘and this made me thrill with delight, ‘Thar
RIMMED eric ah cad bow diecncliy ora call to
the low cliff of laya beneath which I rested, with the
‘sun glaring hot, a few strange desert plants growing near, and
with living corals in the tidal pools at my fect. Later in the
voyage, Fitz-Roy asked me to read some of my Journal, and
declared it would be worth publishing ; so here was a second
book in prospect !
‘Towards the close of our voyage 1 received a letter whilst
at Ascension, in which my sisters told me that Sedgwick had
called on my father, and said that I should take a place among
the leading scientific men, [ could not at the time under
‘stand how he could have learnt anything of my proceedings,
but I beard (I believe afterwards) that Henslow had read
some of the letters which I wrote to him before the Philo-
sophical Society of Cambridge,* and had printed them for
private distribution.
My collection of fossil bones, which
had beem sent to Henslow, also excited considerable atten
tion amongst, js After reading this letter, I
clambered oer the mountains of Ascension with a bounding
‘Step, and made the voleanic rocks resound under my geologi-
cal hammer, All this shows how ambitious £ was; but J think
‘that I can say with truth that in after years, though I cared
in the highest degree for the approbation of such men as
Lyell and Hooker, who were my friends, I did not care much
‘about the general public. Ido not mean tosay that a favour-
able seview or a large sale of my books did not please me
igreatss bette. ‘pleasure was a fleeting onc, and I am sure
RE bere never tumed one inch out of my course to gain
® Read at the meeting held November 16, 1538, and pee in @ pam.
a for distribution among the members of the Society,
—_— a
AUTORIOGRAPHY,
From my return to England (October 2, 1836) #0 my marriage
(January 29, 1839).
‘These two years and three months were the most active
ones which T ever spent, though { was occasionally unwell,
and so lost some time. After going backwards and forwards
veveral times between Shrewsbury, Maer, Cambridge, and
London, 1 settled in lodgings at Cambridge* on December”
13th, where all ray collections were under the care of Hens«
Jow, Istayed here three months, and got my minerals and
rocks examined by the ald of Professor Miller,
T began preparing my ‘Journal of Travels,” whieh was not
hard work, as my MS, Journal had been written with care,
and my chief labour was making an abstract of my more ine
teresting scientific results. I sent also, at the request of
Lyell, a short account of my observations on the elevation of
the coast of Chile to the Geological Society.t
On March 7th, 1837, 1 took lodgings in Great Marlborough
Street in London, and remained there for nearly two years,
until Iwas married, During these two years I finished my.
Journal, read several papers before the Geological Society,
began preparing the MS, for my ‘Geological Observations,”
and arranged for the publication of the * Zoology of the Vay-
age of the Beagle.” In July I opened my first note-book for
facts in relation to the Origin of Species, about which I had
| long reflected, and never ceased working for the next twenty
years.
During these two years T also went a little into society,
and acted as onc of the honorary secretaries of the Geological
Society. I saw a great deal of Lyell. One of his chief char-
acteristics was his sympathy with the work of others, and I
was as much astonished as delighted at the interest which he
showed when, on my return to England, I explained to hit
my views on coral reefs This encouraged me greatly, and
his advice and example had much influence on me. During
* To Fitzwilliam Street,
+ 'Geolog, Soe. Proc ii. 1838, pp. 446-499.
fea) al
37
this time I saw also a good deal of Robert Brown; I used
often to call and sit with him during his breakfast on Sunday
mornings, and he poured forth a rich treasure of curious ob-
servations and acute remarks, but they almost <lways related
to minute points, and he never with me discussed large or
general questions in science.
‘During these two years I took several short excursions as
arelaxation, and one longer one to the Parallel Roads of Glen
Roy, an account of which was published in the ‘ Philosoph-
ical Transactions.'* ‘This paper was & great failure, and I
am ashamed of it. Having been deeply impressed with what
T had seen of the elevation of the land of South America, I
attributed the parallel lines to the action of the sea; but I had
to give up this view when Agassiz propounded his glacier-
lake theory, Because no other explanation was possible under
‘our then state of knowledge, [ argued in favor of sea-action ;
and my etror has been a good lesson to me never to trust in
science to the principle of exclusion.
‘As Twas not able to work all day at science, 1 read a
good deal during these two years on various subjects, includ-
ing some metaphysical books; but I was not well fitted for
such studies. About this time I took much delight in Words-
worth’s and Coleridge's poetry; and can boast that I read the
* Excursion’ twice through. Formerly Milton’s ‘Paradise
Lost bad been my chief favourite, and in my excursions dur-
‘ing the voyage of the Bragle, when I could take only a single
volame, I always chose Milton.
From my marriage, January 29, 1839, and residence in Upper
Gower Street, to our ieaving London and settling at Down,
September 14, 1832,
After speaking of his happy married life, and of his children, he
continues :—
‘During the three years and eight months whilst we resided
in London, 1 did less scientific work, though T worked as
5 * 1830, pp. a9-52.
38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
hard as I possibly could, than during any other equal length
of time in my life, This was owing to frequently recurring
unwellness, and to one long and serious illness. The greater
part of my time, when I could do anything, was devoted to
my work on ‘Coral Reefs," which I had begun before my
marriage, and of which the last proof-sheet was corrected on
May 6th, 1842. ‘This book, though a small one, cost me
twenty months of hard work, as I had to read every work on
the islands of the Pacific and to consult many charts, It was
thought highly of by scientific men, and the theory therein
given fs, T think, now well established,
No other work of mine was begun in so deductive a spirit
as this, for the whole theory was thought out on the west
coast of South America, before I had seen a true coral reef.
I had therefore only to verify and extend my views by a care-
ful examination of living reefs. But it should be observed
that I had during the two previous years been incessantly at-
tending to the effects on the shores of South America of the
intermittent elevation of the land, together with denudation
and the deposition of sediment. ‘This necessarily led me to
reflect much on the effects of subsidence, and it was easy to
replace in imagination the continued deposition of sediment
hy the upward growth of corals. ‘To do this was to form
my theory of the formation of barrier-reefs and atolls.
Besides my work on coral-reefé, during my residence in
London, I read before the Geological Society papers on the
Erratic Boulders of South America,* on Earthquakes,} and
on the Formation by the Agency of Earth-worms of Mould.t
Jalso continued to superintend the publication of the “Zoology
of the Voyage of the Beagde,' Nor did I ever intermit col-
lecting facts bearing on the origin of species ; and I could
sometimes do this when I could do nothing else from illness.
In the summer of 1842 I was stronger than I had been for
some time, and took a little tour by myself in North Wales,
log. Soc, Proc,’ lil, 1849. +'Geolog. Trams! ©. 1840.
17 Geolog, Soe. Proc.’ ii. 1898,
LONDON. 59
Pere red fe ofecs of the oki glaciers which
formerly filled all the larger valleys. I published a short ac-
count of what I saw in the ‘Philosophical Magazine.'* This
excursion interested me greatly, and it was the last time I
qwas ever strong enough to climb mountains or to take long
walks such as are necessary for geological work,
During the early part of our life in London, I was strong
emough to go into general society, and saw a good deal of
several scientific men, and other more or less distinguished
fen, I will give my impressions with respect to some of
thems, though I have little to say worth saying.
‘Tsaw more of Lyell than of any other man, both before
and after my marriage, His mind was characterised, as it
appeared to me, by clearness, caution, sound judgment, and
2 good deal of originality. When I made any remark to him
‘on Geology, he never rested until he saw the whole case
clearly, and often made me see it more clearly than T had
dane before. He would advance all possible objections to my
suggestion, and even after these were exhausted would long
remain dubious. A second characteristic was his hearty
‘sympathy with the work of other scientific ment
Of my return from the voyage of the Beagle, U explained
to him my views on coral-reefs, which differed from his, and
T was greatly surprised and encouraged by the vivid interest
which he showed. His delight in science was ardent, and he
felt the keenest interest in the future progress of mankind,
He was very kind-hearted, and thoroughly liberal in his
religious beliefs, or rather disbeliefs; but he was a strong
theist. His candour was highly remarkable, He exhibited
this by becoming a convert to the Descent theory, though he
had gained much fame by opposing Lamarck’s views, and
this after he had grown old, He reminded me that I had
“** Philosophical Magazine,’ 84x.
4 The slight repetition here observable is accounted for by the notes
on Lyell, &c., having been added in April, 2881, a few years after the rest
‘of the * Recollections were written,
60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
many years before said to him, when discussing the opposition
of the old school of geologists to his new views, “What a
good thing it would be if every scientific man was to die when
sixty years old, as afterwards he would be sure to oppose all
new doctrines.” But he hoped that now he might be allowed
to live.
The science of Geology is enormously indebted to T.yell—
‘more so, as I believe, than to any other man who ever lived.
When [I was] starting on the voyage of the Seagie, the saga-
cious Henslow, who, like all other geologists, believed at that
time in successive cataclysms, advised me to get and study
the first volume of the ‘ Principles,’ which had then just been
published, but on no account to accept the views therein ad=
vocated, How differently would any one now speak of the
‘Principles’! Iam proud to remember that the first place,
namely, St. Jago, in the Cape de Verde archipelago, in which
I geologised, convinced me of the infinite superiority of
Lyell's views over those advocated in any other work known
to me.
The powerful effects of Lyell's works could formerly be
plainly seen in the different progress of the science in France
and England, ‘The present total oblivion of Elie de Beau-
mont's wild hypotheses, such as his ‘Craters of Elevation”
and ‘Lines of Elevation” (which latter hypothesis I beard
Sedgwick at the Geological Society lauding to the skies), may
be largely attributed to Lyell.
T saw a good deal of Robert Brown, "facile Princeps Bo-
tanicorum,” as he was called by Humboldt, He seemed to
me to be chiefly remarkable for the minuteness of his obser
vations, and their perfect accuracy. His knowledge was
extraordinarily great, and much died with him, owing to his
excessive fear of ever making a mistake. He poured out his
knowledge to me in the most unreserved manner, yet was
Strangely jealous on some points. I called on him two or
three times before the voyage of the Sragie, and on one oc
casion he asked me to look through a microscope and de
scribe what I saw. This I did, and believe now that it was
‘LONDON. 6r
the marvellous currents of protoplasm in some vegetable cell.
T then asked him what I had seen; but he answered me,
“That is my little secret,"
‘Ho was capable of the most generous actions. When old,
‘much out of health, and quite unfit for any exertion, he daily
‘visited (as Hooker told me) an old man-servant, who lived at
a distance (and whom he supported), and read aloud to him.
‘This ix enough to make up for any degree of scientific penuri-
ousness or jealousy.
I may here mention a few other eminent men, whom T
ave occasionally seen, but T have little to say about them
worth saying. I felt a high reverence for Sir J. Herschel,
and was delighted to dine with him at his charming house at
the Cape of Good Hope, and afterwards at his London house,
T saw him, also, on 2 few other occasions. He never talked
auch, but every word which he uttered was worth listeny
ing to.
Tance met at breakfast at Sir R. Murchison’s house the
illustrious Humboldt, who honoured me by expressing a wish
tosceme, Iwas a little disappointed with the great man, but
amy anticipations probably were too high. I can remember
nothing distinctly about our interview, except that Humboldt
was very cheerful and talked much,
——— reminds me of Buckle whom I once met at Hens-
leigh Wedgwood's. I was very glad to learn from him his
System of collecting facts. He told me that he bought all the
‘books which he read, and made a full index, to each, of the
facts which he thought might prove serviceable to him, and
‘that he could always remember in what book he had read
anything, for his memory was wonderful, 1 asked him bow
at first he could judge what facts would be serviceable, and
he answered that he did not know, but that a sort of instinct
guided him. From this habit of making indices, he was ens
abled t0 give the astonishing number of references on all sorts
of subjects, which may be found in his ‘History of Civilisa-
tion.’ This book 1 thought most interesting, and read it
twice, bus I doubt whether his generalisations are worth any-
62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
thing, Buckle was 2 great talker, and J listened to him say-
ing hardly a word, nor indeed could I have done so for he
left no gaps. When Mrs. Farrer began to sing, I jumped up
and said that 1 must listen to her; after I had moved away
he turned around to a friend and said (as was overheard by
my brother), “Well, Mr, Darwin's books are much better than
his conversation.”
Of other great literary men, T once met Sydney Smith
at Dean Milman's house. There was something inexplicably
amusing in every word which he uttered. Perhaps this was
partly due to the expectation of being amused. He was talks
ing about Lady Cork, who was then extremely old. ‘This was
the lady who, as he said, was once so much affected by one
‘of his charity sermons, that she dorrowed a guinea from a
friend to put in the plate. He now said “It is generally be-
Nieved that my dear old friend Lady Cork has been over-
Jooked,” and he said this in such a manner that no one eould
for a moment doubt that he meant that his dear old friend
had been overlooked by the devil. How he managed to ex-
press this I know not.
I likewise once met Macaulay at Lord Stanhope's (the
historian's) house, and as there was only one other mam at
dinner, [had a grand opportunity of hearing him converse,
and he was very agreeable, He did not talk at all too much 5
nor indeed could such a man talk too much, as long as he al-
Jowed others to turn the stream of his conversation, and this
he did allow.
Lord Stanhope once gave me a curious little proof af the
accuracy and fulness of Macaulay's mem many bis-
{orians used often to meet at Lord Stanhope'’s house, and in
discussing various subjects they would sometimes differ from
Macaulay, and formerly they often referred to some book to
see who was right; but latterly, as Lord Stanhope noticed,
no historian ever took this trouble, and whatever Macaulay
‘said was final,
On another occasion I met at Lord Stanhope's house,
one of his parties of historians and other literary men, and
LONDON. 63
‘rnongst them were Motley and Groté. After luncheon 1
‘walked about Chevening Park for nearly an hour with Grote,
and was much interested by his conversation and pleased by
the simplicity and absence of all pretension in his manners.
Long age I dined occasionally with the old Earl, the
father of the historian; he was a strange man, but what little
IT knew of him I liked much. He was frank, genial, and
pleasant He had strongly marked features, with a brown
complexion, and his clothes, when I saw him, were all brown-
He seemed to believe in everything which was to others utter-
ly incredible. He said one day to me, “Why don't you give
up your fiddle-faddle of geology and zoology, and turn to the
occult sciences?'" The historian, then Lord Mahon, seemed
shocked at such a speech to me, and his charming wife much
amnsed.
‘The last man whom f will mention is Carlyle, seen by me
‘several times at my brother's house, and two or three times
at my own house, His talk was very racy and interesting,
just like his writings, but he sometimes went on too long on
the same subject. I remember a funny dinner at my broth-
er’s, where, amongst a few others, were Babbage and Lyell,
both of whom liked to talk. Carlyle, however, silenced every
‘one by haranguing during the whole dinner on the advantages
of silence. After dinner Babbage, in his grimmest manner,
thanked Carlyle for his very interesting lecture on silence.
‘Carlyle sneered at almost every one: one day in my house
he called Grote’s ‘History’ “a fetid quagmire, with nothing
spiritual about it." [ always thought, until his * Reminis-
cences "appeared, that his sneers were partly jokes, but this
ow seus rather doubtful. His expression was that of a
lepressed, almost despondent yet benevolent, man; and it
is notorious how heartily he Jaughed. I believe that his
benevolence was real, though stained by not a little jealousy.
No one ean doubt about his extraordinary power of drawing
pictures of things and men—far more vivid, as it appears to
‘me, than any drawn by Macaulay. Whether his pictures of
‘men Were true ones is another question,
64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
He has been all-powerful in impressing some grand moral
truths on the minds of men. On the other hand, his views
about slavery were revolting, In his eyes might was right.
His mind seemed to me a very narrow one; even if all
branches of science, which he despised, are excluded. It
is astonishing to me that Kingsley should have spoken of him
as a man well fitted to advance science. He laughed to
scorn the idea that a mathematician, such as Whewell, could
Judge, as I maintained he could, of Goethe's views on light.
He thought it a most ridiculous thing that any one should
cate whether a glacier moved a little quicker or a Little
slower, or moved at all. As far as I could judge, I never
met a man with a mind so ill adapted for scientific re-
Ist living in London, T attended as regularly as 1 could
the meetings of several scientific socities, and acted as secre-
tary to the Geological Society. But such attendance, and
ordinary society, suited my health so badly that we resolved
to live in the country, which we both preferred and have
never repented of,
Residence at Down from September 14, 1843, fo the present time,
1876.
After-several fruitless searches in Surrey and elsewhere,
we found this house and purchased it. T was pleased with
the diversified appearance of vegetation proper to a chalk
istrict, and so unlike what I had been accustomed to in the
Midland counties; and still more pleased with the extreme
quictness and rusticity of the place. It is not, however,
quite so retired a place as a writer in a German periodical
makes it, who says that my house can be approached only by
amulestrack! Our fixing ourselves here has answered ad-
mirably in one way, which we did not anticipate, namely, by
being very convenient for frequent visits from our chil-
dren.
Few persons can have lived a more retired life than we
PUBLICATIONS, 6s
have done, Besides short visits to the houses of relations,
and occasionally to the seaside or elsewhere, we have gone
nowhere. During the first part of our residence we went a
little into socicty, and received a few friends here ; but my
health almost always suffered from the excitement, violent
shivering and vomiting attacks being thus brought on. I
have therefore been compelled for many years to give up all
dinnes-parties ; and this has been somewhat of a deprivation
to me, as such parties always put mac into high spirits. From
the same cause I have been able to invite here very few sci+
‘entific acquaintances.
‘My chief enjoyment and sole employment throughout life
has been scientific work; and the excitement from such work
makes me for the time forget, or drives quite away, my daily
discomfort. I hare therefore nothing to record during
the rest of my life, except the publication of my several
‘books. Perhaps a few details how they arose may be worth
My several Publications.—In the early part of 1844, my
‘observations on the volcanic islands visited during the voyage
of the Seagle were published, In 1845, I took much pains
im correcting a new edition of my ‘ Journal of Researches,’
which was originally published in 1839 a8 part of Fitz-Roy's
work, The success of this, my first literary child, always
tickles my vanity more than that of any of my other books.
Even to this day it sells steadily in England and the United
States, and has been translated for the second time into Ger-
man, and into French and other languages. ‘This success of
‘a book of travels, especially of a scientific one, so many years
after its first publication, is surprising. ‘Ten thousand copies
have been sold in England of the second edition, In 1846
"Geological Observations on South America * were pub-
lished, I record in a little diary, which I have always kept,
that my three geological books (‘Coral Reefs’ included) cons
‘sumed four and a half years’ steady work ; “and now it is
ten years since my return to England. Mow much time have
Tost by illness?" I have nothing to say about these three
——
6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
. books except that to my surprise new editions have lately
‘been called for.*
ie aac esa ee icripedia.’” When
Terdwed tate the akel ec Concholepas, and which differed
so much from all other Cirripedes that I had to form a pew
sub-order for its sole reception. Lately an allied i
genus has been found on the shores of Portugal. To under
stand the structure of my new Cirripede 1 had to examine
and dissect many of the common forms; and this gradually
Jed me on to take up the whole group. I worked steadily an
this subject for the next eight years, and ultimately published
two thick volumes describing all the known living species,
and two thin quartos on the extinct species, I do not doubt
that Sir E, Lytton Bulwer had me in his mind when he intro-
duced in one of his novels a Professor Long, who had written
two huge volumes on limpets.
Although I was employed during eight years on this
work, yet I record in my diary that about two years out of
time was lost by illness, On this account Iwent in 1848
some months to Malvern for hydropathic treatment, which
did me much good, so that om my return home T was able to
resume work. So much was T out of health that when my
dear father died on November 13th, 1848, 1 was unable to
attend his funeral or to act as one of his executors
My work on the Cisripedia possesses, T think, considera
ble value, as besides describing several new and remarkable
forms, T made aut the homologies of the various parts—I dis-
covered the cementing apparatus, though I blundered dread-
fully about the cement glands—and lastly T proved the exist-
ence in certain genera of minute males complemental to and
parasitic on the hermapbrodites, ‘This latter discovery has
at last been fully confirmed; though at one time a German
\
ological Observations,’ 2nd Edit, 1876, ‘Coral Reefs’ and Edit
14
+ Published by the Ray Society,
s ‘ o
bilan Anaad to attribute the whole account to my fer-
tile iinagination, ‘The Cirripedes form a highly varying and
difficult group of species to class ; and my work was of con-
siderable use to me, when T had to discuss in the ‘Origin of
Species" the principles of a natural classification. Neverthe-
tess, f doubt whether the work was worth the consumption of
so much time.
From September 1854 I devoted my whole time to arrang:
eas huge Ltt notes, to observing, and to experiment-
the transmutation of species. During the
bent Eran aaaie Thad been deeply impressed by discov-
‘ering in the Pampean formation great fossil animals covered
with armour like that on the, existing armadillos ; secondly,
by the manner in which closely allied animals replace one
another in proceeding southwards over the Continent; and
thirdly, by the South American character of most of the pro-
ductions of the Galapagos archipelago, and more especially
by the manner in which they differ slightly on each island of
the group ; none of the islands appearing to be very ancient
tn a geological sense,
‘Tt was evident that such facts as these, as well as many
others, could only be explained on the supposition that
species gradually become modified ; and the subject haunted
pie. But fe was equally evident that ncither the action of the
surrounding conditions, nor the will of the organisms (espe-
cially in the case of plants) could account for the innumera-
Dic cases in which organisms of every kind are beautifully
adapted to their habits of life—for instance, a woodpecker o¢
& tree-frog to climb trees, or a seed for dispersal by hooks or
plumes. Thad always been much struck by such adaptations,
‘and until these could be explained it scemed to me almost
‘useless to endeavour to prove by indirect evidence that
‘Species have been modified.
After my return to England it appeared to me that by
following the cxample of Lyell in Geology, and by collecting
all facts which bore in any way on the variation of animals
and plants under domestication and nature, some light might
il el
6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
perhaps be thrown on the whole subject, My Grst note-book
was opened in July 1837. I worked on true Baconian prin-
| ciples, and without any theory collected facts on a wholesale
scale, more especially with respect to domesticated produce
tions, by printed enquiries, by conversation with skilful
breeders and gardeners, and by extensive reading. When I
see the list of books of all kinds which I read and abstracted,
including whole series of Journals and Transactions, I am
surprised at my industry. 1 soon perceived that selection
was the keystone of man's success in making useful races of
animals and plants, But how selection conld be applied to
organisms living in a state of nature remained for some time
& mystery to me,
In October 1838, that is, fifteen months after I had begun
my systematic enquiry, I happened to read for amusement
‘Malthus on Population,’ and being well prepared to appre=
clate the struggle for existence which everywhere goes on
from long-continued observation of the habits of animals and
plants, it at once struck me that under these circumstances
favourable variations would tend to be preserved, and unfa-
yourable ones to be destroyed, ‘The result of this would be
the formation of new species. Here then 1 had at last got a
theory by which to work; but I was so anxious to avoid
prejudice, that I determined not for some time to write even
the briefest sketch of it, In June 1842 I first allowed myself
the satisfaction of writing a very brief abstract of my theory
in pencil in 35 pages; and this was enlarged during the sum-
mer of 1844 into one of 250 pages, which I had fairly copied
‘out and still possess.
But at that time T overlooked one problem of great impor
tance; and it is astonishing to me, except on the principle of
Columbus and his egg, how I could have overlooked it and
its solution. This problem is the tendency in organic beings
descended from the same stock to diverge in character a§
they become modified, ‘That they have diverged greatly is
obvious from the manner in which species of all kinds can be
classed under genera, genera under families, families under
Early in 2856 Lyell advised me to write out my views
pretty fully, and I began at once to do so on a scale three or
half the work on this scale. But my plans were over
thrown, for early in the summer of 1858 Mr. Wallace, who
was then in the Malay archipelago, sent me an essay “On
the Tendency of Varieties to depart indefinitely from the
Original Type;" and this essay contained exactly the
same theory a5 mine, Mr, Wallace expressed the wish that
if I thought well of his essay, I should send it to Lyell for
perusal.
‘The circumstances under which I consented at the re-
quest of Lyell and Hooker to allow of an abstract from my
‘MS, together with a letter to Asa Gray, dated September 5,
4857, to be published at the same time with Wallace's Essay,
‘are given in the ‘Journal of the Proceedings of the Linnean
fety,’ 1858, p, 45, I was at first very unwilling to consent,
as I thought Mr. Wallace might consider my doing so un-
justifiable, for T did not then know how generous and noble
‘was his disposition. The extract from my MS, and the letter
to Asa Gray had neither been intended (or publication, and
were badly written. Mr. Wallace's essay, on the other hand,
was admirably expressed’ and quite clear. Nevertheless, our
productions excited very little attention, and the only
Published notice of them which T can remember was by
Haughton of Dublin, whose verdict was that all
that was new in them was false, and what was true was old,
‘This shows how necessary it is that any new view should be
i
70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
explained at considerable length in order to arouse public
attention,
In September 1858 I vet to work by the strong advice of
Lyell and Hooker to prepare a volume on the transmutation of
»pecies, but was often interrupted by ill-health, and short wisits
to Dr, Lane's delightful hydropathic establishment at Moor
Park. [abstracted the MS, begun on a much larger seale in
1856, and completed the volume on the same reduced scale,
It cost me thirteen months and ten days’ hard labour, It was
published under the title of the ‘ Origin of Species,’ in Novem-
ber 1859. ‘Though considerably added to and corrected in the
later editions, it has remained substantially the same book.
It is no doubt the chief work of my life. It was from the
first highly successful. ‘The first small edition of 1250 copies
was sold on the day of publication, and a second edition of
ooo copies soon afterwards, Sixteen thousand copies haye
now (1876) been sold in England ; and considering how stiff
a book it iy, this is a large sale, It has been translated into
almost every European tongue, even into such languages as
Spanish, Bohemian, Polish, and Russian. It has also, accord
ing to Miss Bird, been translated into Japanese,* and is there
much studied, Even an essay in Hebrew has appeared on
it, showing that the theory is contained in the Old Testa»
ment! The reviews were very numerous; for some time I
collected all that appeared on the * Origin* and on my related
books, and these amount (excluding newspaper reviews) to
265; but after a time I gave up the attempt in despair.
Many separate essays and books on the subject have ap-
peared; and in Germany a catalogue or bibliography on
* Darwinismus"* has appeared every year or two.
The success of the ‘Origin’ may, 1 think, be attributed in
large part to my having long before written two condensed
sketches, and to my having finally abstracted a much larger
manuscript, which was itself an abstract, By this means T
was enabled to select the more striking facts and conclusions,
# Miss Dird ts mistaken, os I learn from Prof. Mitsukuri—F. D,
‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES’ 7
I had, also, during many years followed « golden rule, namely,
that whesever a published fact, a new obscrvation or thought
came across me, which was opposed to my general results, to
make a memorandum of it without fail and at once; for 1
had found by experience that such facts and thoughts were
far more apt to escape from the memory than favourable
ones, Owing to this habit, very few objections were raised
‘against my views which I had not at least noticed and ate
tempted to answer.
Tt has sometimes been said that the success of the ‘Ori-
gin” proved “ that the subject was in the air,” or "that men's
minds were prepared for it." I do not think that this is
strictly true, for I occasionally sounded not a few naturalists,
and never happened to come across a single one who scemed
to doubt about the permanence of species. Even Lyell and
Hooker, though they would listen with interest to me, never
seemed to agree. T tried once or twice to explain to able
men what I meant by Natural Selection, but signally failed.
What I believe was strictly true is that innumerable well-
‘observed facts were stored in the minds of naturalists ready
to take their proper places as soon as any theory which would
receive them was sufficiently explained, Another clement in
the success of the book was its moderate size; and this T owe
to the appearance of Mr, Wallace's essay; had 1 published
om the scale in which I began to write in 1856, the hook
would bave been four or five times as large as the ‘ Origin,’
amd very few would have had the patience to read it.
T gained much by my delay in publishing from about
#839, when the theory was clearly conceived, to 1859; and 1
fost nothing by it, for I cared very little whether men at
tributed most originality to me or Wallace ; and his essay no
doubt aided in the reception of the theory. I was forestalled
fm only one important point, which my vanity has always
made me regret, namely, the explanation by means of the
Glacial period of the presence of the same species of plants
and of some few animals on distant mountain summits and
in the aretic regions, This view pleased me so much that T
n
wrote it out in extenso, and I believe that it was read by
‘Hooker some years before E. Forbes published his celebrated
memoit* on the subject Im the very few points in which
we differed, 1 still think that Iwas in the right, I have
never, of course, alluded in print to my having independently
worked out this view.
Hardly any point gave me so much satisfaction when T
‘was at work on the ‘Origin,’ as the explanation of the wide
difference in many classes between the embryo and the adult
animal, and of the close resemblance of the embryos within
the same class, No notice of this point was taken, as far as
T remember, in the carly reviews of the ‘ Ori; and I recol-
lect expressing my surprise on this head in a letter to Asa
Gray. Within late years several reviewers have given the
whole credit to Fritz Mller and Hiickel, who undoubtedly
have worked it out much more fully, and in some respects
more correctly than I did. I had materials for a whole chap-
tor on the subject, and I ought to have made the discussion
longer; for it is clear that I failed to impress my readers;
and he who succceds in doing so deserves, in my opinion, all
the credit.
‘This leads me to remark that I have almost always been
treated honestly by my reviewers, passing over those without
scientific knowledge as not worthy of notice, My views have
often been grossly misrepresented, bitterly opposed and ridi-
euiled, but this has been generally done, as T believe, in good
faith, On the whole I do not doubt that my works have heen
over and over again greatly overpraised. I rejoice that I have
avoided controversies, and this I owe to Lyell, who many
years ago, in reforence to my geological works, strongly ad=
vised me never to get entangled in a controversy, as it rarely
did any good and caused a miserable loss of time and temper.
Whenever I have found out that I have blundered, or that
my work has been imperfect, and when T have been con-
temptuously criticised, and even when I have been overs
* 'Geolog. Survey Mem.” 1846,
_ 4
PUBLICATIONS. 73
praised, so that I have felt mortified, it has been my greates|
comfort to say hundreds of times to myself that “I ha
‘worked as hard and as well as T could, and no man can do
more than this.” I remember when in Good Success Bay,
in Tierra del Fuego, thinking (and, I believe, that 1 wrote
home to the effect) that I could not employ my life better
than im adding a little to Natural Science. This I have done
to the best of my abilities, and critics may say what they like,
‘Dut they cannot destroy this conviction.
During the two last months of 1859 T was fally occupied
in preparing a sccond edition of the ‘Origin,’ and by an
enormous correspondence. On January 1st, 1860, I began
arranging my notes for my work on the ‘ Variation of Ani-
mals and Plants under Domestication,’ but it was not pubs
fished watil the beginning of 1863; the delay having been
‘caused partly by frequent illnesses, one of which lnsted seven
months, and partly by being tempted to publish on other sub-
fects which at the time interested me more.
‘On May 1sth, 1862, my little book on the ‘Fertilisation of
Orchids,” which cost me tea months’ work, was published :
‘most of the facts had been slowly accumulated during several
previous years. During the summer of 1839, end, I believe,
during the previous summer, [ was led to attend to the cross-
fertilisation of flowers by the aid of insects, from having come
to the conclusion in my speculations on the origin of species,
‘that crossing played an important part in keeping specific
forms constant. 1 attended to the subject more or less dur-
‘fg every subsequent summer; and my interest in it was
greatly cahaneed by having procured and read in November
841, through the advice of Robert Brown, a copy af C K,
wonderful book, *Das entdeckte Geheunniss der
Natur.’ For some years before 1852 I had specially attended
fo the fertilisation of our British orchids ; and it seemed to
great mass of matter which I had slowly collected with re-
‘spect to pte plants,
——
‘My resolve proved a wise one; for since the appearance
of my book, a surprising number of papers and separate
works on the fertilisation of all kinds of flowers haye apr
peared; and these are far better done than I could possibly.
have effected. The merits of poor old Sprengel, so long
overlooked, are now fully recognised many years after his
death,
During the same year I published in the ‘Journal of the
Linnean Society’ a paper “On the Two Forms, or Dimor-
phic Condition of Primula,” and during the next five years,
five other papers on dimorphic and trimorphic plants. I do
not think anything in my scientific life has given me so much
satisfaction as making out the meaning of the structure of
these plants. I had noticed in 1838 or 1839 the dimorphisin
of Liswm flavum, ond had at first thought that it was merely
a case of unmeaning variability. But on examining the com-
‘mon species of Primula I found that the two forms were much
too regular and constant to be thus viewed. 1 therefore be-
came almost convinced that the common cowslip and prim-
rose were on the high road to become diacious ;—that the
short pistil in the one form, and the short stamens in the
other form were tending towards abortion. The plants were
therefore subjected under this point of view to trial ; but as
soon as the flowers with short pistils fertilised with pollen
from the shart stamens, were found to yield more seeds than
any other of the four possible unions, the abortion-theory was
Knocked on the head, After some additional experiment, it
became evident that the two forms, though both were perfect
hermaphrodites, bore almost the same relation to one another
as do the two sexes of an ordinary animal. With Lythrum
we have the still more wonderful case of three forms standing:
{nn similar relation to one another. { afterwards found that
the offspring from the union of two plants belonging to the
same forms presented a close and curious analogy with’ hy
brids from the union of two distinct species,
Tn the autumn of 186g T finished a long paper on ‘Climb-
ing Plants," and sent it to the Linnean Society. ‘The writing
PUBLICATIONS, ”
‘of this paper cost me four months; but I was so unwell when
I received the proof-sheets that I was forced to leave them
very badly and often obscurely expressed. The paper was
listle noticed, but when in 1875 it was corrected and published
as aseparate book it sold well, 1 was led to take up this sub-
ject by reading a short paper by Asa Gray, published in 1853,
He sent me seeds, and on raising some plants I was so much
fescinated and perplexed by the revolving movements of the
tendrils and stems, which movements are really very simple,
though appearing at first sight very complex, that I procured
various other kinds of climbing plants, and studied the whole
wabject. 1 was all the more attracted to it, from not being at
all satisfied with the explanation which Henslow gave us in
bis lectures, about twining plants, namely, that they had a
‘Batural tendency to grow up in a spire, This explanation
proved quite erroneous, Some of the adaptations displayed
‘by Climbing Plants are as beautiful as those of Orchids for
‘My ‘Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestica-
tion” was begun, as already stated, in the beginning of 1860,
‘bet was not published until the beginning of 1868. It was a
‘big book, and cost me four years and two months’ hard labour,
‘Tt gives all my observations and an immense number of facts
collected from various. sources, about our domestic produc-
tions In the second volume the causes and laws of variation,
inberitance, &c., are discussed as far as our present state of
Knowledge permits. Towards the end of the work I give my
‘well-abused hypothesis of Pungenesis. An unverified hypothe-
‘bis is of little or no value; but if any one should hereafter be
fed to make observations by which some such hypothesis
could be established, I shall have done good service, as an
astonishing number of isolated facts can be thus connected
together and rendered intelligible. In 1875 a second and
largely corrected edition, which cost me a good deal of labour,
was brought out. ;
‘My ‘Descent of Man" was published in February, 1871.
As soon as T had become, im the year 1837 or #838, convinced
AUTOBIOGRAPHY,
that species were mutable productions, T could not avoid the
Delief that man must come under the same law, Accordingly
T collected notes on the subject for my own satisfaction, and
not fora long time with any intention of publishing. Although
inthe ‘Origin of Species" the derivation of any particular
species is never discussed, yet I thought it best, in order that
po honourable man should accuse me of concealing my views,
ty add thar by the work “light would be thrown on the origin
of man and his history." It would have been useless and in-
jurious to the success of the book to have paraded, without
giving any evidence, my conviction with respect to his origin,
_ But when I found that many naturalists fully accepted the
doctrine of the evolution of species, it seemed tome advisable
to work up such notes as I possessed, and to publish a special
treatise on the origin of man, 1 was the more glad to do so,
as it gave me an opportunity of fully discussing sexual selec-
tion—a subject which had always greatly interested me, ‘This
subject, and that of the variation of our domestic productions,
together with the causes and laws of variation, inheritance,
and the intercrossing of plants, are the sole subjects which I
have been able to write about in full, so a8 to use all the mar
terials which T have collected, ‘The ‘Descent of Man’ took
me three years to write, but then as usual some of this time
was lost by ill health, and some was consumed by preparing
new editions and other minor works, A second and largely
corrected edition of the ' Descent * appeared in 1874.
My book on the ‘Expression of the Emotions in Men and
Animals’ was published in the autumn of 1872. I had in-
tended to give only a chapter on the subject in the ‘Descent
of Man,” but as soon as I began to put my notes together, 1
saw that it would require a separate treatise.
My first child was born on December 27th, 1859, and Tat
‘once commenced to make notes on the first dawn of the wari-
ous expressions which he exhibited, for I felt convinced, even
at this early period, that the most complex and fine shades of
expression must all have Bad a gradual and natural origin.
During the summer of the following year, 1840, 1 read Sir C.
which I felt in the subject, though I could not at
be, eager that various muscles had been spe-
cially created for the sake of expression. From this time for
ward 1 occasionally attended to the subject, both with respect
to man and our domesticated animals, My book sold largely;
5267 copies having been disposed of on the day of publication,
‘In the summer of 1860 1 was idling and resting near Hart-
field, where two species of Drosera abound ; and I noticed
that numerous insects had been entrapped by the leaves,
cartied home some plants, and on giving them insects saw the
movements of the tentacles, and this made me think it proba
bile that the insects were caught for some special purpose.
Fortunately a crucial test occurred to me, that of placing a
fange number of leaves in various nitrogenous and non-nitro-
genems fuids of equal density ; and as soon as I found that
the former alone excited energetic movements, it was obvious
‘that here was a fine new field for investigation,
During subsequent years, whenever I had leisure, E pur-
sued my experiments, and my book on ‘Inscctivorous Plants’
was published in July 1875—that is, sixteen years after my
first observations. The delay in this case, as with all my
‘ther books, has been a great advantsge to me; for a man
after a long interval can criticise his own work, almost as well
as if it were that of another person. ‘The fact that a plant
should secrete, when properly excited, a fluid containing an
acid and ferment, closely analogous to the digestive fluid of
an animal, was certainly a remarkable discovery.
Diring this autumn of 1836 [shall publish on the * Effects
‘ef Cross and Self-Fextilisation in the Vegetable Kingdom.’
‘This book will form a complement to that on the ‘ Fertilisn-
‘doa of Orchids’ in which 1 showed how perfect were the
means for cross-fertilisation, and here I shall show how im+
ortant are the results, I was led to make, during cleven
years, the numerous experiments recorded in this volume, by
@mere accidental observation ; and indeed it required the
‘accident to be repeated before my attention was thoroughly
SE
7
aroused to the remarkable fact that seedlings of self-fertilised
parentage are inferior, even im the first generation, in height
and vigour to seedlings of crossfertilised parentage I hope
also to republish a revised edition of my book on Orchids,
and hereafter my papers on dimorphic and trimorphic plants,
together with some additional observations on allied points
which I never have had time to arrange. My strength will
then probably be exhausted, and I shall be ready to exclaim
“Nune dimittis.”
Written May vst, 1881.— The Effects of Cross and Self-
Fertilisation * was published in the autumn of 1876; and the
results there arrived at explain, as I believe, the endless and
wonderful contrivances for the transportal of pollen from one
plant to another of the same species. 1 now heliewe, however,
chiefly from the observations of Hermann Maller, that I ought
to have insisted more strongly than I did on the many adapta-
tions for self-fertilisation; though T was well aware of many
such adaptations, A much enlarged edition of my * Fertilisax
tion of Orchids” was published in 1877.
In this same year ‘The Different Forms of Flowers, &c.,’
appeared, and in 1880 a second edition. This book consists
chiefly of the several papers on Hetcrostyled flowers originally
published by the Linnean Society, corrected, with much new
matter added, together with observations on some other cases
in which the sume plant bears two kinds of flowers, As be-
fore remarked, no little discovery of mine ever gave me so
much pleasure as the making out the meaning of heterosty}ed
flowers, The results of crossing such flowers in an illegith-
mate manner, I believe to be very important, ax bearing on
the sterility of hybrids; although these results have been
noticed by only a few persons,
In 1879, I had a translation of Dr, Ernst Krause’s * Life of
Erasmus Darwin’ published, and 1 added a sketch of his
character and habits from material in my possession. Many
persons have been much interested by this little life, and I
am surprised that only $09 or geo copies were sold,
In 1880 I published, with [my son] Frank's assistance, our
ee
isation, viz. that the great and important classes of move-
‘ments, excited by light, the attraction of gravity, &c., are all
‘modified forms of the fundamental mavement of circummatar
tion. It has always pleased me to exalt plants in the scale of
organised beings ; and I therefore felt an especial pleasure in
showing how many and what admirably well adapted move-
ments the tip of a root
‘Thaye now (May +, 183r) sent to the printers the MS. of
alittle book on “The Formation of Vegetable Mould, through
the Action of Worms.” This is a subject of but small im-
portance; and I know not whether it will interest any readers,’
‘but it has faterested me. It is the completion of a short
paper read before the Geological Society more than forty
‘Years ago, and has revived old geological thoughts.
Thave now mentioned all the books which I have pub-
lished, and these have been the milestones in my life, so
thar little remains to he said. 1 am not conscious of ant
change in my mind during the last thirty years, excepting i
‘one point presently to be mentioned ; nor, indeed, could any
change have been expected unless one of general deterioration.
‘Bot my father lived to his cighty-third year with his mind as
lively a5 ever it was, and all his faculties undimmed ; and 1
hope that T may die before my mind fails to a sensible ex-
ent. Tthink that I have become a little more skilful in
guessing right explanations and in devising experimental
“* Beeween November 1851 and February 1384, $500 copies lave been
we
(a
80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
tests; but this may probably be the result of mere practice,
and of a larger store of knowledge. Ihave as much difficulty
as ever in expressing myself clearly and concisely ; and this
difficulty has caused me a very great loss of time ; but it has
had the compensating advantage of forcing me to think long
and intently about every sentence, and thus I have been led
to see errors in reasoning and in my own observations or
those of others.
‘There seems to be a sort of fatality in my mind leading
me to put at first my statment or proposition ina wrong or
awkward form. Formerly I used to think about my sen-
tences before writing them down; but for several years I have
found that it saves time to scribble in a vile hand whole pages
as quickly as { possibly can, contracting half the words; and
then correct deliberately, Sentences thus scribbled down:
are often better ones than I could have written deliberately,
Having said thus much about my manner of writing, I
will add that with my large books I spend a good deal of
time over the general arrangement of the matter. T first
make the rudest outline in two or three pages, and then a
larger one in several pages, a few words or one word stand-
ing for a whole discussion or series of facts. Each one of
these headings is again enlarged and often transferred be
fore I begin to write #w exfenso, As in several of my books
facts observed by others have been very extensively used,
and as T have always had several quite’ distinct subjects in
hand at the same timc, 1 may mention that I keep from
thirty to forty large portfolios, in cabinets with labelled
shelves, into which I can at once put a detached reference
‘or memorandum. [have bought many books, and at their
‘ends I make an index of all the facts that concern my work ;
‘of, if the hook is not my own, write out a separate abstract,
and of such abstracts I have a large drawer full, Before
beginning on any subject I look to all the short indexes and
make a general and classified index, and by taking the one
or more proper portfolios 1 have all the information collected
during my life rendy for use.
MENTAL QUALITIES. Sr
T have said that in one respect my mind has changed
during the last twenty or thirty years. Up to the age of
thirty, or beyond it, poetry of many kinds, such ay the works
of Milton, Gray, Byron, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Shelley,
gave me great pleasure, and even as a schoolboy I took
intense delight in Shakespeare, especially in the historical
plays. [have also said that formerly pictures gave me con-
siderable, and music very great delight. But now for many
| years f cannot endure to read 2 line of poetry: I have tried
lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so intolerably dull
that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my taste for
paetisres or music. Music generally sets me thinking too en-
‘ergetically on what I have been at work on, instead of giving
me pleasure. I retain some taste for fine scenery, but it does
not cause me the exquisite delight which it formerly did.
Om the other hand, novels which are works of the imagina-
tion, though not of a very high order, have been for years
a wonderful relief and pleasure to me, and I often bless all
hovelists. A surprising number have been read aloud to me,
and Tike all if moderately good, and if they do not end un-
happily—against which a law ought to be passed.) A novel,
‘according to my taste, does not come into the first class
‘enless it contains some person whom one can thoroughly
love, and if a pretty woman all the better,
‘This curious and lamentable loss of the higher sesthetic
tastes is all the odder, as books on history, biographies, and
travels (independently of any scientific facts which they may
‘epntain), and essays on all sorts of subjects interest me as
Mauch as ever they did. “My mind seems to have become a
kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large callee-
tions of facts, but why this should have caused the atrophy
of that part of the brain lone, on which the higher tastes
‘depend, T cannot conceive, A man with a mind more highly
‘organised or better constituted than mine, would not, f sup-
pose, have thus suffered ; and if I had to live my life again,
T would have made a rule to read some poctry and listen to
fome music at least once every week ; for perhaps the parts
.
82 AUTOBIOGRATHY, —
of my brain now atrophied would thus have been kept active
through use, ‘The loss of these tastes isa loss of happiness,
and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more
probably to the moral character, by. enfeebling the emotional
part of our nature.
My books have sold largely in England, bave been trans-
lated into many languages, and passed through several
editions in foreign countries, I have heard it said that
the success of awork abroad is the best test of its endure
ing value. 1 doubt whether this is at all trustworthy; but
judged by this standard my name ought to last for a few
years. Therefore it may be worth while to try to analyse
the mental qualities and the conditions on which my suc-
cess has depended ; though I am aware that no man can do
this correctly.
Thave no great quickness of apprehension or wit which is
so rexmarkable in some clever men, for instance, Hualey, I
am therefore a poor critic: a paper or book, when first read,
generally excites my admiration, and it is only after consider
able reflection that I perceive the weak points. My power to
follow a long and purely abstract train of thought is very
limited; and therefore I could never have succeeded with
metaphysics or mathematics. My memory is extensive, yet
hagy: it suffices to make me cautious by vaguely telling me
that I have observed or read something opposed to the con
clusion which I am drawing, or on the other hand in favour
of it; and after a time I can generally recollect where to
search for my authority, So poor in one sense is my memory,
thar I have never been able to remember for more than a few
days a single date or a line of poctry.
Some of my critics have said, “Oh, he is a good observer,
Dut he has no power of retwoning!" I do not think that this
can be true, for the ‘Origin of Species” is one Jong argument
from the beginning to the end, and it has convinced not a
few able men, No one could have written it without having
some power of reasoning T have a fair share of invention,
and of common sense or judgment, such as every fairly suc
_—_—ai
83
cessful lawyer or doctor must have, but not, I believe, in any
higher degree.
‘On the fayourable side of the balance, I think that I am
sopertor to the common run of men in noticing things which
easily scape attention, and in observing them carefully.
Sipfiadistty hom been nearly as great as it could have been
in the olservation and collection of facts. What is far more
important, my love of natural science has been steady and.
ardent.
‘This pure love has, however, been much aided by the
ambition to be esteemed by eny fellow naturalists, From my
early youth I have had the strongest desire to understand or
explain whatever I observed,—that is, to group all facts
wnder some general laws These causes combined have
given me the patience to reflect or ponder for any number!
of years over any unexplained problem. As far as I cas
judge, f am not apt to follow blindly the lead of other men.
T have steadily endeavoured to keep my mind free so as 1
give up any hypothesis, however much beloved (and I cannot!
resist forming one on every subject), as soon as facts ar
shown to be opposed to it.~Indeed, I have had no choice
Dat to act in this manner, for with the exception of the Coral
Reefs, I cannot remember a single first-formed hypothesis
whieh had not aftera time to be given up or greatly modified.
‘This has naturally led me to distrust greatly deductive reason~
img in the mixed sciences. On the other hand, f am not
Very seeptical—a frame of mind which I believe to be inju-
fions to the progress of science. A good deal of scepticism
‘in a scientific man is advisable to avoid much loss of time,
but I have met with not a few men, who, I feel sure, have
‘often thus been deterred from experiment or observations,
which would have proved directly or indirectly serviceable,
In ilustration, 1 will give the oddest case which I have
Known, A gentleman (who, as T afterwards heard, is a good
‘Tocal botanist) wrote to me from the Eastern cau that
‘the seed of beans of the common field-besn had this year
everywhere grown on the wrong side of the pod. I wrote
4s
Sy AUTOBIOGRAPHY. -
back, asking for further information, as 1 did not understand
what was meant; but I did not receive any answer for a very
long time, I then saw in two newspapers, one published in
Kent and the other in Yorkshire, paragraphs stating that it
was a most remarkable fact that "the beans this year had alt
grown on the wrong side.” So I thought there must be some
foundation for so general & statement. Accordingly, 1 went
to my gardener, an old Kentish man, and asked him whether
he had heard anything about it,and he answered, “Oh, no,
sir, it must be a mistake, for the beans grow on the wrong
side only on leap-year, and this is not leap-year.” I then
asked him how they grew in common years and how on leap-
years, but soon found that he knew absolutely nothing of how
they grew at any time, but he stuck to his belief,
After a time I heard from my first informant, who, with
many apologies, said that he should not have written to me
had he not heard the statement from several intelligent farm-
ers; but that he had since spoken again to every one of them,
and not one knew in the least what he had himself meant.
So that here a belief—if indeed a statement with no definite
idea attached to it can be called a belief—had spread over al-
most the whole of England without any vestige of evidence,
Thave known in the course of my life only three inten
tionally falsified statements, and one of these may have been
a hoax (and there have been several scientific hoaxes) which,
however, took in an American Agricultural Journal, It re
lated to the formation in Holland of a new breed of oxen by
the crossing of distinct species of Bos (some of which I hap-
pen to know are sterile together), and the author had the im-
pudence to state that he had corresponded with me, and that
Thad been deeply impressed with the importance of his re~
sult. The article was sent to me by the editor of an English
Agricultural Journal, asking for my opinion before republish-
ing it,
A second case was an account of scveral varieties, raised
by the author from several species of Primula, which had
spontaneously yielded a full complement of seed, although
(MENTAL QUALITIES. 83
‘the parent plants had been carefully protected from the ac~
cess of insects, This account was published before I had dis-
covered the meaning of heterostylism, and the whole state~
‘meat must have been fraudulent, or there was neglect in ex+
‘cluding insects so gross as to be scarcely credible.
‘The third case was more curious; Mr, Hath published in
his book on ‘Consanguincous Marriage’ some long extracts
from a Belgian author, who stated that he had interbred rab-
bits in the closest manner for very many generations, without
the least injurious effects, ‘The account was published in a
‘mest respectable Journal, that of the Royal Society of Bel-
gium; but I could not avoid feeling doubt»—T hardly know
why, except that there were no accidents of any kind, and my
‘experience in breeding animals made me think this very im-
So with much hesitation 1 wrote to Professor Van Ben-
‘eden, asking him whether the author wax a trustworthy man,
T soon heard in answer that the Society had been greatly
shocked by discovering that the whole account was a fraud.*
‘The writer had been publicly challenged in the Journal to
say where he had resided and kept his large stock of rabbits
while carrying on his experiments, which must have con-
‘sfimed several years, and no answer could be extracted from
him,
My habits are methodical, and this has been of not a little
‘use for my particular line of work. Lastly, I have had ample
Teiture from not having to eam my own bread. Even ill
health, though it has annihilated several years of my life, has
saved me from the distractions of society and amusement,
‘Therefore my success as a man of science, whatever this
‘may have amounted to, has been determined, as far as! can
Judge, by complex and diversified mental qualities and con-
ditions. Of these, the most important have been—the love
* The falseness of the published ntatements on which Mr. Huth relied
‘bas been pointed out by himself ine slip inserted (a all the copies of bis
‘book which then remained ansold,
86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY:
of science—unbounded patience in long refleeting over any
subject—industry in observing and collecting facts—and a
fair share of invention.as well as of common sense, With
such moderate abilities as I possess, it is truly surprising that
Tshould have influenced to a considerable extent the belict
of scientific men on some important points.
ROM THE GARDEN,
Comtary Magattna,
REMINISCENCES,
He walked with a swinging action, using a stick heavily
shod with iron, which he struck loudly against the ground,
producing a4 he went round the “Sand-walk” at Down, a
rhythmical click which is with all of us a very distinct re-
membrance, As he returned from the midday walk, often
carrying the waterproof or cloak which had proved. too hot,
one could see that the swinging step was kept up by some-
thing of an effort, Indoors his step was often slow and
laboured, and as he went upstairs in the afternoon he might
de heard mounting the stairs with a heavy footfall, as if each
step were an effort. When interested in his work he moved
about quickly and easily enough, and often in the middle of
dictating he went eagerly into the hall to get a pinch of snuff,
Jeaving the study door open, and calling out the last words of
his sentence as he went. Indoors he sometimes used an owk
stick like a little alpenstock, and this was a sign that he felt
giddiness.
In spite of his strength and activity, I think he must
always have had a clumsiness of movement. He was natt-
rally awkward with his hands, and was unable to draw at all
well.” This he always regretted much, and he frequently
urged the paramount necessity of a young naturalist making
himself a good draughtsman.
He could dissect well under the simple microscope, but T
think it was by dint of his great patience and carefulness, Ik
was characteristic of him that he thought many little bits of
skilful dissection something almost superhuman. He used to
‘speak with admiration of the skill with which he saw New-
port dissect a humble bee, getting out the nervous system
with a few cuts of a fine pair of scissors, held, as my father
ised to show, with the elbow raised, and in an attitude whieh
certainly would render great steadiness necessary. He used
to consider cutting sections a great feat, and in the last year
of his life, with wonderful energy, took the pains to lear to
* The figure representing the aggregated cell-contents in Unsectivoe
tous Plants’ was drawn by him,
$9
and leaves, His hand was not steady
esough to hold the object to be cut, and he employed a
common microtome, in which the pith for holding the object
was clamped, and the razor slid on a glass surface in makin
the sections, He used to laugh at himself, and at his ove
skill in seetion-cutting, at which he would say he was “speech-
Jess with admiration.” On the other hand, he must have had
peeuracy of eye and powcr of co-ordinating his movements,
‘since he was a good shot with a gun as a young man, and as
‘a boy was skilful in throwing, He once killed a hare sitting
in the flower-garden at Shrewsbury by throwing « marble at
Ht, and, as 2 tnan, he once killed a crossbeak with a stone,
‘He was so unhappy at having usclessly killed the cross-beak
that he did not mention it for years, and then explained that
be should never have thrown at it if he had not felt sure that
his old skill had gone from him.
When watking he had a fidgetting movement with his
fingers, which he has described in one of his books as the
habit of an old man. When he sat still he often took hold of
‘one wrist with the other hand; he sat with his legs crossed,
aed from being 40 thin they could be crossed very far, as
tmay be seen in one of the photographs. He had his chai
the study and in the drawing-room raised so as to be much
higher than ordinary chairs; this was done because sitting on
a low of even an ordinary chair caused him some discomfort,
We used to laugh at him for making his tall drawing-room
ebaie still higher by putting footstools on it, and then neu-
tralising the result by resting his fect on another chair.
‘Wis beard was full and almost untrimmed, the hair being
grey and white, fine rather than coarse, and wavy or {riezled,
‘His moustache was somewhat disfigured by being cut short
across, He became very bald, having only a
and this perhaps made
id than he was, He wrote
to Dr, Hooker (June 15, 349}, “ Every one tells me that I
ook qaie. looming and beautiful; and most think 1 am
a g
shamming, but you have never been one of those.” And it
must be remembered that at this time he was miserably ill,
far worse than in later years. His eyes were bluish grey
under deep overhanging brows, with lek bushy projecting:
eyebrows, His high forebead was much wrinkled, but ather-
wise his face was not much marked or lined. His expression
showed no signs of the continual discomfort he suffered,
When he was excited with pleasant talk his whole manner
‘was wonderfully bright and animated, and his face shared to
‘the full in the general animation, THis laugh was a free and
sounding peal, like that of a man who gives himself sympa-
therically and with enjoyment to the person and the thing
which have amused him, He often used some sort of gesture
with his laugh, lifting up his hands or bringing one down with
aslap. I think, generally speaking, he was given to gesture,
and often used his hands in explaining anything (e. the
fertilisation of a flower) in a way that seemed rather an aid
to himself than to the listener. He did this on occasions
when most people would illustrate their explanations Ly
means of a rough pencil sketch,
He wore dark clothes, of a loose and easy fit. Of late
years he gave up the tall hat even in London, and wore a
volt black one in winter, and a big straw hat in summer, His
usual out-of-doors dress was the short cloak in which Elliot
and Fry's photograph represents him leaning against the
pillar of the verandah, Two peculiarities of his indoor dress
were that he almost always wore a shawl over his shoulders,
and that he had great loose cloth boots lined with fur which
he could slip on over his indoor shoes, Like most delicate
people he suffered from heat as well as from chillinesss it
was as if he could not hit the balance between too hot and
too cold; often a mental cause would make him too hot, 80
that he would take off his coat if anything went wrong in the
course of his work.
He rose early, chiefly because he could not lie in bed, and
I think he would have liked to get up earlier than he did.
He took a short turn before breakfast, a habit which began
poss, or
the first time to a water-cure establishment.
‘up tll almost the end of his life. 1 used,
as 2 little boy, to like going out with him, and I have a vague
‘sense of the red of the winter sunrise, and a recollection of
the pleasant companionship, and a certain honour and glory
init. He used to delight me as a boy by telling me how, in
sail cartier walks, on dark winter mornings, he had once or
twice met foxes trotting home at the dawning,
After ting alone about 7°45, he went to work at
once, considering the +} hour between 3 and g's0 one of his
best working times At 9'go he came into the drawing-room
for his letters—rejoicing if the post was a light one and being
Sometimes much worried if it was not. He would then hear
‘any family letters read aloud as he lay on the sofa,
‘Phe reading aloud, which also included part of a novel,
Tasted till about half-past ten, when he went back to work
fill twelve or a quarter past. By this time he considered his
day's work over, and would often say, in a satisfied voice,
“ J're done a good day's work.” He then went out of door
‘whether it was wet or fine; Polly, his white terrier, went with
him in fair weather, but in rain she refused or might be seen
hesitating in the verandals, with a mixed expression of disgust
‘and shame at her own want of courage ; generally, however,
her conscience carried the day, and as soon as he was evi-
destly gone she could not hear to stay behind,
My father was always fond of dogs, and asa young man
had the power of stealing away the affections of his sister's
pets; at Cambridge, he won the love of his cousin W. D.
Fox's dog, and this may perhaps have been the little beast
which used to creep down inside his bed and sleep at the
foot every night. My father had a surly dog, who was de-
‘voted to him, but unfriendly to every one else, and when he
came back from the Aeragle voyage, the dog remembered
him, but in a curious way, which my father was fond of tell
fing. He went into the yard and shouted in his old manner;
the dog mished out and set off with him on his walk, shows
ing no more emotion or excitement than if the same thing
92 REMINISCENCES.
had happened the day before, instead of five years ago.
‘This story is made use of in the ‘Descent of Man,’ and Edit,
14
¥ ei my memory there were only two dogs which had much
connection with my father, One was a large black and white
half-bred retriever, ealled Bob, to which we, as children, were
much devoted. He was the dog of whom the story of the
“hot-house face” is told in the * Expression of the Emotions.”
But the dog most closely associated with my father was
the above-mentioned Polly, a rough, white fox-terrier, She
was a sharp-witted, affectionate dog; when her master was
going away on a journey, she always discovered the fact by
the signs of packing going on in the study, and became lows
spirited accordingly. She began, too, to be excited by seeing
the study prepared for his return home, She was a cunning
little creature, and used to tremble or put on an air of misery
when my father passed, while she was waiting for dinner, just
as if she knew that he would say (as he did often say) that
“she was famishing.” My father used to make her catch
biscuits off her nose, and had an affectionate and mock-
solemn way of explaining to her before-hand that she must
“be a very good girl.” She had a mark on her back where
she had been burnt, and where the hair had regrown red
instead of white, and my father used to commend her for
this tuft of hair as being in accordance with his theory of
pangenesis; her father had been a red bull-terricr, thus the
red hair appearing after the burn showed the presence of
Iatent red gemmules, He was delightfully tender to Polly,
and never showed any impatience at the attentions she re-
quired, such as to be let in at the door, or out at the veran-
dah window, to bark at “naughty people,” a self-imposed
daty she much enjoyed, She died, or rather had to be killed,
a few days after his death
1¢ bauket in which she uoually lay curled up near the fire in his
study Is faithfully represented in Mr. Pancon's drawing, “The Study ak
Down,” facing page tor.
WALKS. 93
ene generally began by a call at the
where he looked at any germinating seeds or
experimental plants which required a casual exarnination, but
he hardly ever did any serious observing at this time, Then
he went on for his constitutional—either round the “ Sand-
walk,” or outside his own grounds in the immediate neigh
bourhood of the house The “Sand-walk" was a narrow
strip of land 14 acres in extent, with a gravel-walk round it,
On one side of it was a broad old shaw with fair-sized oaks
fe it, which made a sheltered shady walk ; the other side was
separated from a neighbouring grass ficld by a low quickset
hedge, over which you could look at what view there was, a
quiet little valley losing itself in the upland country towards
the edge of the Westerham hill, with hazel coppice and larch
wood, the remnants of what was once a large wood, stretch-
ing svay to the Westerham road. I have heard my futher
say that the charm of this simple little valley helped to make
him settle at Down.
‘The Sand-walk was planted by my father with a variety
of trees, such as hazel, alder, lime, hornbeam, birch, privet,
aed dogwood, and with a long line of holies all down the
exposed side, In earlier times he took a certain number of
terns every day, and used to count them by means of a heap
‘of flints, one of which he kicked out on the path each time
he passed. Of late years I think he did not keep to any
fixed number of turns, but took as many as he felt strength
for, The Sand-walk was our play-ground as children, and
here we continually saw my father ashe walked round, He
Tiked to see what we were doing, and was ever ready to sym+
pathize in any fun that was going on, It is curious to think
how, with regard to the Sand-walk in connection with my
‘father, my earliest recollections coincide with my latest ; it
shows bow unvarying his habits have been,
Sometimes when alone he stood still or walked stealthily
to observe birds or beasts. It was on one of these occasions
that some young squirrels ran up his back and legs, while
‘thelr mother barked at them in an agony from the tree. He
always found birds’ nests even up to the last years of his life,
and we, as children, considered that he had a special genius
in this direction, In his quiet prowls he came across the less
common birds, but I fancy he used to conceal it from me, a8
a little boy, because he observed the agony of mind which I
endured at not haying seen the sitkin or goldfinch, or what-
ever it might bave been, He used to tell us how, when he
was creeping noisclessly along in the “ Big-Woods,” he came
upon a fox asleep in the daytime, which was so much aston
ished that it took a good stare at him before it ran off, A
Spitz dog which accompanied him showed no sign of excites
ment at the fox, and he used to end the story by wondering
how the dog could have been s9 faint-hearted.
Another favourite place was “Orchis Bank,” above the
quiet Cudham valley, where fly- and musk-orchis grew among
the junipers, and Cephalanthera and Neottin under the beech
Doughs ; the little wood " Hangrove,” just above this, he was
also fond of, and here 1 remember his collecting grasses,
when he took a fancy to make out the names of all the com-
ton kinds. He was fond of quoting the saying of one of
his little boys, who, having found a grass that bis father had
not seen before, had it laid by his own plate during dinner,
remarking, “I are an extraordinary grass-finder
My father much enjoyed wandering slowly in the garden
with my mother or some of his children, or making one of &
party, sitting out on a bench on the lawn; he generally sat,
‘however, on the grass, and T remember him often lying under
‘one of the big lime-trees, with his head on the green mound
atits foot. In dry summer weather, when we often sat out,
the big fly-wheel of the well was commonly heard spinning
round, aud so the sound became associated with those pleas
ant days, He used to like to watch us playing at lawa-ten=
nis, and often knocked up a stray ball for us with the curved
handle of his stick, .
‘Though he took no personal share in the management of
the garden, he had great delight in the beauty of flowers—
for instance, in the mass of Azaleas which generally stood in
RIDING. os
the | ‘I think he sometimes fused together his
admiration of the structure of a flower and of its intrinsic
betsty ; for indtance, in the case of the big pendulous pink
and white flowers of Dielytra. In the same way he had an
affection, half-artistic, half-botanical, for the little blue Lo~
belia, In admiring flowers, he would often laugh at the dingy
hhigh-art colours, and contrast them with the bright tints of
nature. Ivused to like to hear him admire the beauty of a
flower; it was a kind of gratitude to the flower itself, and a
personal love for its delicate form and colour, I seem to
remember him gently touching a flower he delighted in; it
was the same simple admiration that a child might have.
He could not help personifying natural things. ‘This feel-
out in abuse as well as in praise—e.¢. of some seed
Yings—""The little beggars arc doing just what f don’t want
them to." He would speak in a half-provoked, half-admiring
way of the ingenuity of a Mimosa leaf in screwing itself out
of & basin of water in which he had tried to fix it. One
might see the same spirit in his way of speaking of Sundew,
earth-worms, &c,*
Within my his only outdoor recreation, besides
walking, was riding, which he took to on the recommendation
‘of Dr. Benes Jones, and we had the luck to find for him the
easiest and quietest cob in the world, named "Tommy." He
enjoyed these rides extremely, and devised a number of shart
rounds which brought him home in time for lunch, Our
‘country is good for this purpose, owing to the number of
szoall yalleys which give a variety to what in a flat country
‘would bea dull loop of toad, He was not, T think, naturally
fond of horses, nor had he a high opinion of their intelli-
genes, and Tommy was often laughed at for the alarm he
showed at pasting and repassing the same heap of hedge
* CE Laalle Stephen's ‘Swift,’ 1882, p. 200, where Swift's inspection of
the manners and custorns of seevanty are compared to my father’s otverva~
tions on worms, “The difference is," says Mr. Stephon, " that Darwin had
‘pone bat kindly feelings for worms”
————
clippings as he went round the ficld. I think he used to feel
surprised at himself, when he remembered how bold a rider
he had been, and bow utterly old age and bad health had
taken away his nerve. He would say that riding prevented
him thinking much more effectually than walking—that hav~
ing to attend to the horse gave him occupation sufficient to
prevent any really hard thinking. And the change of scene
which it gave hii was good for spirits and health.
Unluckily, Tommy one day fell heavily with him en
Keston common, ‘This, and an accident with another horse,
upset his nerves, and he was advised to give up riding,
If I go beyond my own experience, and recall what T
have heard him say of his love for sport, &e., [can think of a
good deal, but much of it would be a repetition of what is
contained in his ‘Recollections.’ At school he was fond of
batefives, and this was the only game at which he was skilful.
He was fond of his gan as quite a boy, and became a good
shot ; he used to tell how in South America he killed twenty~
three snipe in twenty-four shots. In telling the story he was
careful to add that he thought they were not quite so wild ag
English snipe,
See at Down came after his midday walk; and
[see T may say a word ot two about his meals generally. He
had a boy-like love of sweets, unluckily for himself, since he
was constantly forbidden to take them. He was not particu-
larly successful in keeping the “vows,” as he called them,
which he made against eating sweets, and never considered
them binding unless he made them aloud,
He drank very little wine, but enjoyed, and was revived
by, the little he did drink, He had a horror of drinking,
and constantly warmed his boys that any one might be led
into drinking too much, 1 remember, in my innocence as a
small boy, asking him if he had been ever tipsy; and he
answered very gravely that he was ashamed to sayhe had
‘once drunk too much at Cambridge. I was much impressed,
80 that T know now the place where the question was asked.
‘After his Iunch, he read the newspaper, lying on the sofa
CORRESPONDENCE. oF
im the drawing-room. 1 think the paper was the only non-
scientific matter which he read to himself. Everything else,
‘novels, travels, history, was read aloud to him. He took so
‘wide an interest in life. that there was much to occupy him
in newspapers, though he laughed at the wordiness of the
debates : reading them, I think, only in abstract. is inter=
feat in politics was considerable, but his opinion on these
matters was formed rather by the way than with any serious
‘=mount of thought.
After he had read hix paper, came his time for writing
Hetters, ‘These, as well as the MS, of his books, were written
ae him as he sat in a huge horse-hair chair by the fire, his
supported on a board resting on the arms af the chair,
When he had many or long letters to write, he would dictate
them from a rough copy; these rough copies were written on
the backs of manuscript or of proof-shects, and were almost
illegible, sometimes even to himself. He made a rule of
‘Keeping aif letters that he received ; this was a habit which
the learnt from his father, and which he said had been of
Breat use to him.
He received many letters from foolish, unscrupulous people,
and all of these received repli He used to say that if he
did not answer them, he had it on his conscience afterwards,
and no doubt it was in great measure the courtesy with which
he answered every one, which produced the universal and
widespread sense of his kindness of nature, which was s0
‘evident on his death.
He was considerate to his correspondents in other and
Hesset things, for instance when dictating a letter to a foreigner
be hardly ever failed to say to me, “You'd better try and
write well, as it's to a foreigner.” His letters were generally
written on the assumption thar they would be carelessly read 5
thes, when he was dictating, he was careful to tell me to make
an important clause begin with an obyious paragraph “to
catch his eye," 9s he often said. How much he thought of
the trouble be gave others by asking questions, will be well
enough shown by hisletters. It is difficult to say anything
sl el
8
about the general tone of his letters, they will speak for thers
selves, The wavarying courtesy of them is very striking. ¥
hada proof of this quality in the feeling with which Mr. Lacon,
his solicitor, regarded him. He had never seen my father,
yet had a sincere fecling of friendship for him, and spoke
especially of his letters as being such as a man seldom receives
in the way of business :—" Everything I did was right, and
everything was profusely thanked for,"*
~~ He hadi a printed form to be used in replying to trouble
some correspondents, but he hardly ever used it; I suppose
he never found an occasion that seemed exactly suitable. FE
remember an occasion on which it might have been used with
advantage, He received a letter from a stranger stating that
the writer had undertaken to uphold Evolution at a debating
society, and that being a busy young man, without time for
reading, he wished to have a sketch of my father's views.
Even this wonderful young man got a civil answer, though I
think he did not get much-material for his speech, His rule
was to thank the donors of books, but not of pamphlets. He
sometimes expressed surprise that so few people thanked him
for his books which he gave away liberally; the letters that
he did receive gave him much pleasure, because he habitually
formed so humble an estimate of the value of all his works,
that he was generally surprised at the interest which they
excited.
In money and business matters he was remarkably careful
and exact. He kept accounts with great care, classifying
them, and balancing at the end of the year like a merchant.
T remember the quick way in which he would reach out for
his account-book to enter each cheque paid, ax though he
were in a hurry to get itentered before he had forgotten it,
His father must have allowed him to believe that he would
be poorer than he really was, for some of the difficulty expe>
Tienced in finding a house in the country must have arisen
from the modest sum he felt prepared to give, Yet he knew,
of course, that he would be in easy cireumstances, for in his
* Recollections” he mentions this as one of the reasons for his
|
(
|
“BUSINESS. 99
} at medicine with so much zeal as he would ©
pease had been obliged to gain his living.
‘He had & pet economy in paper, but it was rather a hobby
thas areal economy, All the blank sheets of letters received
| were kept in portfolio to be used in making notes; it was
|his respect for paper that made him write so much on the
backs of his old MS., and in this way, unfortunately, he de-
stroyed large parts of the original MS, of his books, His
feeling about paper extended to waste paper, and he objected,
half in fun, to the careless custom of throwing a spill into the
fire after it had been used for lighting a candle.
‘My father was wonderfully liberal and generous to all his
children in the matter of money, and I have special cause to
femember his kindness when I think of the way in which he
paid some Cambridge debts of mine—making it almost seem.
a virtue in me to have told him of them, In his later years
he had the kind and generous plan of dividing his surplus at
the year’s end among his children,
‘He had a great respect for pure business capacity, and
often spoke with admiration of a relative who had doubled
his fortune. And of himself would often say in fun that
what he really mas proud of was the money he had saved,
He also felt satisfaction in the money he made by his books,
His anxiety to save came in a great measure from his fears
that his children would not have health enough to earn their
‘own livings, a foreboding which fairly haunted him for many
years. And [have a dim recollection of his saying, “Thank
God, you'll have bread and cheese," when I was so young
that I was rather inclined to take it literally
When letters were finished, about three in the afternoon,
hee rested in his bedroom, lying on the sofa and smoking a
cigarette, and listening to a novel or other book not scientilic,
He only amoked when resting, whereas snuff was a stimulant,
and was taken duting working hours He took. snuff for
weny years of his life, having learnt the habit at Edinburgh
as astudent, He had a nice silver snuff-box given him by
‘Mrs. Wedgwood of Maer, which he valued much—but he
=
“rarely carried it, because it tempted him to take too many.
pinches. In one of his early letters be speaks of having given
up snuff for 4 month, and describes himself as feeling “most
lethargic, stupid, and melancholy,” Our former neighbour
and clergyman, Mr. Brodi¢ Lanes, telly me that at one time
my father made a resolve not to take snuff except away from
home, “a most satisfactory arrangement for me,” he adds,
“as T kept a box in my study to which there was access from
the garden without summoning servants, and I had more fre-
quently, than might have been otherwise the case, the privilege
of a few minutes’ conversation with my dear friend." He
e erally took snulf from a jar on the hall table, becawse
ing to go this distance for a pinch was a slight check; the
= of the lid of the snuff jar was a very familiar sound,
Sometimes when he was in the drawing-room, it would occur
to him that the study fire must be burning low, and when
some of us offered to see after it, it would turn out that he
also wished to get a pinch of snuff.
Smoking he only took to permanently of late years, though
&n his Pampas rides he learned to smoke with the Gauchos,
and T have heard him speak of the great comfort of 2 cup of
wat? and a cigarette when he halted after « long ride and
was unable to get food for some tine,
‘The reading aloud often sent him to sleep, and he used to
regret losing parts of a novel, for my mother went steadily on
lest the cessation of the sound might wake him. He came
down at four o'clock to dress for his walk, and he was so reg-
ular that one might be quite certain it was within a few min-
utes of four when his descending steps were heard,
From about half-past four to half-past five he worked;
then he came to the drawing-room, and was idle till it was
time (about six) to go up for another rest with novel-reading
and a cigarette.
Latterly he gave up late dinner, and had a simple tea at
hhalf-past seven (while we had dinner), with an egg or a small
piece of meat. After dinner he never stayed im the room,
and used to apologise by saying he was an old woman, who
a)
ed every night; for many years a score of
on was kept, and in'this score he took
Tle became extremely animated over
lamenting his bad luck and: exploding
Inger at my mother's good fortune,
that is, after he had read as much as his
nd before the reading aloud begai ie
sofa and listen to my mother playiniy
‘not a good ear, yet in spite of this he had
ic, He used to lament that his enjoy-
‘become dulled with age, yet within my
‘of a god tune was strong. I never
mor than one tune, the Welsh song “ Ar hyd
‘went through correctly ; he used also, 1 ber
ittle Otaheitan song. From his want of ear
‘a tune when he heard it again, but
it to what he liked, and would often say,
was played, “That's a fine thing; what
J especially parts of Beethoven’s symphonies,
‘He made a little list of all the pieces
liked among those which my mother
fa few words the impression that each one
these hotes are unfortunately lost. He
differences in style, and enjoyed the late Mrs,
on's playing intensely, and in June 138%,
er paid a visit at Down, he was roused to
by his magnificent performance on the
ntich enjoyed good singing, and was moved al»
most to teats by grand or jpathetic songs. is niece Lady
Farrer’s singing of Sullivan's “Will page come” was a never
about his own taste, 4nd‘correspondingly pleased when he
found that others agrted with him,
He became much tired in the evenings, especially of late
years, when he left the drawing-room about ten, going to bed
at half-past nights were gencrally bad, and he often
lay awake or in bed for hours, suffering much discom.
fort. He was troubled at night by the uctivity of his thoughts,
and would, biome exhausted by his mind working at some
problenr'ylitch he would willingly have dismissed. At aight,
hunt him, and I think it was then that he suffered if
he-batd not answered some troublesome person's letter,
«Fhe regular readings, which I have mentioned, continued
‘tor.so many years, enabled him to get through a great deal
of the lighter kinds of literature. He was extremely fond of
novels, and I remember well the way in which he would an-
ticipate the pleasure of having a novel read to him, as he lay
down, or lighted his cigarette. He took a vivid interest both
in plot and characters, and would on no account know before-
hand, how a story finished ; he considered looking at the end
of & novel a8 a feminine vice, He could not enjoy any story
with a tragical end, for this reason he did not keenly appreci-
ate George Eliot, though he often spoke warmly in praise of
‘Silas Marner.’ Walter Scott, Miss Austen, and Mra. Gaskell,
were read and re-read till they could be read no more. He
two or three books in hand at the same time—a novel
and perhaps a biography and a book of travels, He did not
often read out-of-the-way or old standard books, but gener=
ally kept to the books of the day obtained from a circulating
library.
T do not think that his literary tastes and opinions were
on a level with the rest of his mind. He himself, though he
was clear as to what he thought good, considered that im
matters of literary taste, he was quite outside the pale, and
103
‘those within it liked or disliked, as if
19 which he had ao claim to belong,
‘of art he was inclined to laugh at professed
their opinions were formed by fashion.
‘Thus in painting, he would say how in his day cvery one
adinired masters who are vow neglected. His love of pict+
lures as a young man is almost a proof that he must have had
‘an appreciation of a portrait as a work of art, not ax a likes
ness. Yet he often talked laughingly of the small worth of
portraits, and said that a photograph was worth any number
of pictures, as if he were blind to the artistic quality in a
painted portrait. But this was geaerally said in his attempts
to persuade us to give up the idea of having his portrait
palated, an operation very irksome to him,
‘This way of looking at himself as an ignoramus in all
matters of art, was strengthened by the absence of pretence,
‘which was part of his character. With regard to questions of
faite, as well as to more serious things, he always had the
‘courage of his opinions, 1 remember, however, an instance
that sounds like a contradiction to this: when he was look-
ing at the Turners in Mr. Ruskin’s bedroom, he did not con
fess, a8 he did afterwards, that he could make out absolutely
‘nothing of what Mr. Ruskin saw in them. But this little
pretence was not for his own sake, but for the sake of coure
fesy to his host He was pleased and amused when subse
quently Mr, Ruskin brought him some photographs of picts
‘ures (I think Vandyke portraits), and courteously scemed to
value my father’s opinion about them.
Much of his scientific Feading was in German, and this
was a great labour to him; in reading a book after him, f
‘Was often struck at seeing, from the pencilmarks made each
day where he left off, how little he could read at atime, He
‘used to call German the “Verdammte,” pronounced as if in /
English, He was especially indignant with Germans, because
he was convinced that they could write simply if they chose,
often praised Dr, F. Hildebrand for writing C
which was as clear as French. He sometimes gave a German
a eae
TO4
sentence to a friend, a patriotic German lady, and used to
laugh at her if she did not translate it fluently. He himseit
Jearnt German simply by hammering away with a dictionary;
he would say that his only way was to read a sentence a
great many times over, and at last the meaning occurred to
him, When he began German long ago, he boasted of the
fact (as he used to tell) to Sir J. Hooker, who replied,
“Ah, my dear fellow, that’s nothing; I've begun it many
times.”
In spite of his want of grammar, he managed to get on
wonderfully with German, and the sentences that he failed to
make out were generally really difficult ones, He never
attempted to speak German correctly, but pronounced the
words as though they were English; and this made it not a
little difficult to help him, when he read ont a German sen-
tence and asked for a translation, He certainly had a bad
ear for vocal sounds, so that he found it impossible to per-
ceive small differences in pronunciation,
His wide interest in branches of science that were not
specially his own was remarkable. In the biological sciences
his doctrines make themselves felt so widely that there was
something interesting to him in most departments of it. He
read a good deal of many quite special works, and large parts
‘ef text books, such as Huxley's ‘Invertebrate Anatomy,’ or
such a book as Balfour's ‘Embryology,’ where the detail, at
any rate, was not specially in his own line. And in the case
of elaborate books of the monograph type, though he did not
make a study of them, yet he felt the strongest admiration for
them,
Tn the non-biological sciences he felt keen sympathy with
work of which he could not really judge. For instance, he
used to read nearly the whole of * Nature,’ though so much
of it deals with mathematics and physics, I have often heard
him say that he got a kind of satisfaction in reading articles
which (according to himself) he could not understand, T
wish 1 could reproduce the manner in which he would laugh
at himself for it,
READING. 105
‘Tt was remarkable, too, how be kept up his interest in
which he had formerly worked, ‘This was strik-
ingly the case with geology. In one of his letters to Mr,
Judd be begs him to pay him a visit, saying that since Lyell’s
death he hardly ever gets 2 geological talk, His observa-
tions, made only afew years before his death. on the upright
pebbles in the drift at Southampton, and discussed in a letter
to Mr, Gelkio, afford another instance, Again, in the letters
to Dr. Dohrn, he shows how his interest in barnactes remained
alive. I think it was all due to the vitality and persistence of
his mind—a quality I have heard him speak of as if he felt
that he was strongly gifted in that respect, Not that he used
any such phrases as these about himself, but he would say
that he had the power of keeping a subject or question more
‘or leas before him for a great many years, ‘The extent to
which he possessed this power appears when we consider the
number of different problems which he solved, and the early
period at which some of them began to occupy him,
Ik was w sure sign that he was not well when he was idle
@t any times other than his regular resting hours; for, as long
‘as he remained moderately well, there was no break in the
tegularity. of his life. Week-days and Sundays passed by
alike, each with their stated intervals of work and rest. It
is almost impossible, except for those who watched his daily
life, to realise how essential to his well-being was the regular
routine that F have sketched: and with what pain and diffi
culty anything beyond it was attempted. Any public appeare
ance, even of the most modest kind, was an effort to him.
Tn 187 he went to the little village church for the wedding
‘of his elder daughter, but he could hardly bear the fatigue of
being present through the short service. The same may be
said of the few other occasions on which he was present at
T remember him many years ago at a christening; a
‘memory which bas remained with me, because to us children
it seemed an extraordinary and abnormal occurrence. T
remember his look most distinctly at his brother Erasmus's
8
i
106 REMINISCENCES.
funeral, as he stood in the scattering of snow, wrapped in a
long black funeral cloak, with a grave look of sad reverie,
When, after an interval of many years, he again attended
amecting of the Linnean Soclety, it was felt to be, and was
in fact, a serious undertaking ; one not to be determined on
without much sinking of heart, and hardly to be carried into
effect without paying a penalty of subsequent suffering. In
the same way a breakfast-party at Sir James Paget's, with
some of the distinguished visitors to the Medical Congress
(1881), was to him a severe exertion.
‘The early morning was the only time at which he could
make any effort of the kind, with comparative impunity.
‘Thus it came about that the visits he paid to his scientific
friends in London were by preference made as early as ten in
the morning, “For the same reason he started on his journeys
by the earliest possible train, and used to arrive at the houses
of relatives in London when they were beginning their
day.
He kept an accurate journal of the days on which he
worked and those on which his ill health prevented him from
working, so that it would be possible to tell how many were
idle days in any given year. In this journal—a little yellow
Letts's Diary, which lay open on’ his mantel-piece, piled on
the diaries of previous years—he also entered the day an
which he started for « holiday and that of his return.
The most frequent holidays were visits of a week to Lon-
don, either to his brother's house (6 Queen Anne Street), or
to his daughter's (4 Bryanston Street). He was generally
persuaded by my mother to take these short holidays, when
it became clear from the frequeney of “bad days,” or from
the swimming of his head, that he was being overworked.
He went unwillingly, and tried to drive hard bargains, stipu-
lating, for instance, that he should came home in five days
instead of six. Even if he were leaving home for no more
than a week, the packing had to be begun early on the pre=
‘vious day, and the chief part of it he would do himself, The
discomfort of a journey to hin was, at least latterly, chiefly in
HOLIDAYS. 107
the anticipation, and in the miserable sinking feeling from
which He suffered immediately before the start ; even a fairly
Jong journey, such as that to Coniston, tired him wonderfully
little, considering how much an invalid he was; and he eer-
tainly enjoyed it in an almost boyish way, and to a carious
extent.
Although, as he bas said, some of his wsthetic tastes had
sulfered a gradual decay, his love of scenery remained fresh
and strong. Every walk at Coniston was a fresh delight, and
he was never tired of praising the beauty of the broken hilly
‘country at the head of the lake,
One of the happy memories of this time [1879] is that of
a delightful visit to Grasmere: “The perfect day," my sister
writes, “and my father’s vivid enjoyment and fow of spirits,
form picture in my mind that I like to think of He could
hardly sit still in the carriage for turning round and getting
up to admire the view from each fresh point, and even in re-
turning he was full of the beauty of Rydal Water, though he
would not allow that Grasmere at all equalled his beloved
Coniston.”
Besides these longer holidays, there were shorter visits to
variows relatives—to his brother-in-law's house, close to L
Hil, and to his son near Southampton. He always parti
larly enjoyed rambling over rough open country, such as the
commons near Leith Hill and Southampton, the heath-covered
wastes of Ashdown Forest, or the delightful “ Rough" near
the bouse of his friend Sir Thomas Farrer. He never was
quite idle even on these holidays, and found things to ob-
serve, At Hartfield he watched Drosera catching insects,
&e.; at Torquay he observed the fertilisation of an orchid
(Sfiranties), and also made out the relations of the sexes in
‘Thyme,
He was always rejoiced to get home after his holidays ;
he used greatly to enjoy the welcome he got from his dog
Polly, who would get wild excitement, panting, squeak-
ing, fushing round the room, and jumping on and off the
chairs; and he used to stoop down, pressing her face to his,
108 REMINISCENCES,
letting her lick him, and speaking to her with a peculiarly
tender, caressing voice,
My father had the power of giving to these summer holi«
days a charm which was strongly felt by ail his family. The
pressure of hia work at home kept him at the utmost stretch
‘of his powers of endurance, and when released from it, he
entered on a holiday with a youthfulness of enjoyment that
made his companionship delightful; we felt that we saw more
of him in a week's holiday than in a month at home.
Some of these absences from home, however, had a de-
pressing effect on him ; when he had been previously much
‘overworked it scemed as though the absence of the custom:
ary strain allowed him to fall into a peculiar condition of
miserable health,
Besides the holidays which I have mentioned, there were
his visits to water-cure establishments In 1849, when very
ill, suffering from constant sickness, he was urged by a friend
to try the water-cure, and at last agreed to go to Dr. Gully’s
establishment at Malvern, His letters to Mr. Fox show how
much good the treatment did him ; he seems to have thought
that he had found a cure for his troubles, but, like all other
remedies, it had only a transient effect on hit. However, he
found it, at first, so good for him that when he came home
he built himself a douche-bath, and the butler learnt ta be
his bathman.
He paid many visits to Moor Park, Dr. Lane’s water-cure
establishment in Surrey, not far from Aldershot, ‘These visits
were pleasant ones, and he always looked back to them with
pleasure. Dr. Lane has given his recollections of my father
in Dr, Richardson's ‘Lecture on Charles Darwin,’ October
22, 1882, from which I quote -—
“In a public institution like mine, he was surrounded, of
course, by multifarious types of character, by persons of both
sexes, mostly very different from himself—commanplace peo
ple, in short, as the majority are everywhere, but like to him
fat least in this, chat they were fellow-creatures and fellow
WITH HIS CHILDREN, 109
patients, And never was any one more genial, more con-
siderate, more friendly, more altogether charming than he
universally was"... . He “never aimed, as too often hap=
pens with good talkers, at monopolising the conversation. It
‘was his pleasure rather to give and take, and he was as good
@ listener as a speaker. He never preached nor prosed, but
his talk, whether grave or gay (and it way each by turns), was
{oll of life and salt—racy, bright, and animated,”
‘Some idea of his relation to his family and his friends may
be gathered from what has gone before; it would be impos-
sible to attempt a complete account of these relationships,
But a slightly fuller outline may not be out of place. Of his
married life I cannot speak, save in the briefest manner. In
Bis relationship towards my mother, his tender and sympa-
thetic nature was shown in its most beautiful aspect. In her
presence he found his happiness, and through her, his life,—
which might have been overshadowed by gloom,—becaime
‘one of content and quiet gladness,
‘The * Expression of the Emotions’ shows how closely he
watebed his children; it was characteristic of him that (as I
Ihave beard him tell), although he was so anxious to observe
accurately the expression of a crying child, his sympathy with
the grief spoiled his observation. His note-book, in which are
recorded sayings of his young children, shows his pleasure in
them. He seemed to retain a sort of regretful memory of the
childhoods which had faded away, and thus he wrote in his
“Recollections ":—" When you were very young it was my
Gelight to play with you all, and 1 think with a sigh that such
days can never return.”
I may quote, as showing the tenderness of his nature, some
sentences from an account of his little daughter Annie, writ-
ten & few days after her death -—
“Our poor child, Annie, was born in Gower Street, on
March 2, 1841, and expired at Malvern at mid-day on the
aged of April, 18s,
on (5 -|
110 REMINISCENCES,
“ [write these few pages, as I think in after years, if we
live, the impressions now put down will recall more vividly
her chief characteristics. From whatever point I look back
at her, the main feature in her disposition which at once rises
before me, is her buoyant joyousness, tempered by two other
characteristics, namely, her sensitiveness, which might easily
have been overlooked by a stranger, and her strong affection.
Her joyousness and animal spirits radiated from her whole
countenance, and rendered every movement elastic and full of
life and vigour, It was delightful and cheerful to behold her,
Her dear face now rises before me, as she used sometimes to
come running downstairs with a stolen pinch of souff for me
her whole form radiant with the pleasure of giving pleasure,
Even when playing with her cousins, when her joyousness
almost passed into boisterousness, a single glance of my eye,
not of displeasure (for T thank God I hardly ever cast one on
her), but of want of sympathy, would for some minutes alter
her whole countenance.
"Phe other point in her character, which made ber joy»
Gusness and spirits so delightful, was her strong affection,
which was of a most clinging, fondling nature, When quite
a baby, this showed itself in never being easy without touch.
ing her mother, when in bed with her; and quite lately she
would, when poorly, fondle for any length of time one of ber
mother's arms. When very unwell, her mother lying down
beside her seemed to soothe her in a manner quite different
from what it would have done to any of our other children,
So, again, she would at almost any time spend half an hour in
arranging my hair, ‘making it,' as she called it, ‘beautiful,’
or in smoothing, the poor dear darling, my collar or cuffs—in
short, in fondling me,
“Hiesides her joyousness thus tempered, she was in her
manners remarkably cordial, frank, open, straightforward,
natural, and without any shade of reserve. Her whole mind
was pure and transparent, One felt one knew her thoroughly
and could trust her. I always thought, that come what might,
we should have had in our old age at least one loving soul
WITH HIS CHILDREN. mt
which nothing could have changed. All her movements
were vigorous, active, and usually graceful. When going
round the Sand-walk with me, although I walked fast, yet she
‘often used to go before, pirouetting in the most elegant
way, her dear face bright all the time with the sweetest «miles.
‘Occasionally she had a pretty coquettish manner towards me,
the memory of which is charming, She often used exagger-
ated language, and when { quizzed her by exoggerating what
she had said, how clearly can I now sce the little toss of the
head, and exclamation of ‘Oh, papa what a shame of you!?
Mm the Inst short illness her conduct in simple truth was an-
gelic. She never once complained; never became fretful;
was ever considerate of others, and was thankful in the most
gentle, pathetic manner for everything done for her. When
so exhausted that she could hardly speak, she praised every-
thing that was given her, and said some tea ‘wns beautifully
good.’ When T gave her some water she said, ‘I quite thank
you:' and these, I believe, were the last precious words ever
‘addressed by her dear lips to me.
“We have lost the joy of the household, and the solace
of our old age. She most have known how we loved her,
Oh, that she could now know how decply, how tenderly,
we do still and shall ever lave her dear joyous face! Bless-
ings on her!
“April yo, 1851."
We his children all took especial pleasure in the games he
played at with us, but do not think he romped much with
us; I suppasehis health prevented any rough play. He used
Sometimes to tell us stories, which were considered especially
delightful, partly on account of their rarity.
‘The way he brought us up is shown bya little story about
may beother Leonard, which my father was fond of telling
He came into the drawing-room and found Leonard dancing
about on the sofa, which was forbidden, for the sake of the
springs, and said, "Oh, Lenny, Lenny, that's against all rules,”
and received for answer, “'Then I think you'd better go out
al .
12 REMINISCENCES.
of the room.” Ido not believe he ever spoke an angry word
to any of his children in his life; but I am certain that it
never entered our heads to disobey him. I well remember
‘ong occasion when my father reproved me for a piece of care-
lessness ; and I can still recall the feeling of depression which
came over me, and the care which he took to disperse it by
speaking to me soon afterwards with especial kindness, He
kept up his delightful, affectionate manner towards us all his
life. I sometimes wonder that he could do so, with such an
undemonstrative race as we are; but I hope he knew how
much we delighted in his loving words and manner. How
often, when a man, I have wished when my father was behind
my chair, that he would pass his hand over my hair, as he
used to do when Iwas a boy. He allowed his grown-up chil-
dren to Iaugh with and at him, and was, generally speaking,
‘on terms of perfect equality with us.
He was always full of interest about each one’s plang or
successes, We used to laugh at him, and say he would not
believe in his sons, because, for instance, he would be a little
doubtful about their taking some bit of work for which he did
not feel sure that they had knowledge enough. On theather
hand, he was only too much inclined to take a favourable view
of our work. When I thought he had set too higha value on
anything that I had done, he used to be indignant and inclined
to explode in mock anger. His doubts were part of his hu-
mility concerang what was in any way connected with
himself; his too favourable view of our work was due to his
sympathetic nature, which made him lenient to every one.
He kept up towards his children his delightfal manner of
expressing his thanks; and I never wrote a letter, or read a
page wloud to hie, without receiving a few kind words of
recognition. His love and goodness towards his little grand-
son Rernard were great; and he often spoke of the pleasure
it ws to him to see “ his little face opposite to him” at lunch-
con. He and Bernard used to compare their tastes ; in
liking brown sugar better than white, &c.; the result being,
"We always agree, don't we?”
WITH 113 CHILDREN. n3
‘My sister writes —
* My first remembrances of my father are of the delights
‘of his playing with ux. He was passionately attached to his
own children, although he was not an indiscriminate child-
fover, Toall of us he was the most delightful play-fellow,
and the most perfect sympathiser. Indeed it is impossible
adequately to describe how delightful a relation his was to his
family, whether as children or in their later life.
“It is a proof af the terms on which we were, and also of
how much he was valued as a play-fellow, that anc of his sons
when about four years old tried to bribe him with sixpence
to come and play in working hours, Weall knew the sacred-
‘ness of working-time, but that any one should resist sixpence
seemed an impossibility.
“He must have been the most patient and delightful of
furses, I remember the haven of peace and comfort it
Seemed to me when I was unwell, to be tucked up on the
study sofa, idly considering the old geological map hung on
the wall. This must haye been in his working hours, for I
always picture him sitting in the horsehair arm-chair by the
cornce of the fire.
Another mark of his unbounded patience was the way in
which we were suffered to make raids into the study when we
had an absolute need of sticking-plaster, string, pins, scissors,
Mamps, foot-rule, or hammer. These and other such neces-
saries were always to be found in the study, and it was the
oaly place where this was a certain We used to feel it
wrong to go in during worketime; still, when the necessity
was great we did so. I remember his patient look when he
said onee, ‘Don’t you think you could not come in again, T
have been interrupted very often.’ We used to dread going
in for sticking-plaster, because he disliked to see that we had
Gut ourselves, both for our sakes and on account of his acute
sensitivencss to the sight of blood. I well remember lurking
about the passage till he was safe away, and then stealing in
for the plaster.
14 REMINISCENCES,
“ Life seems to me, as I look back upon it, to have been
very regular in those early days, and except relations (and a
few intimate friends), Ido not think any one came to the
house, After lessons, we were always free 10 go where we
would, and chat was chiefly in the drawing-room and about
the garden, so that we were very much with both my father
and mother, We used to think it most delightful when he
told us any stories about the Seagée, or about early Shrews-
bury days—little bits about school-life and his boyish tastes.
Sometimes too he read aloud to his children such books as
Scott's novels, and T remember a few little lectures on the
steam-engine,
“Twas more or less ill during the five years between my
thirteenth and eighteenth years, and for a long time (years it
seeins to me) he used to play a couple of games of back-
gammon with me every afternoon. He played them with the
greatest spirit, and I remember we used atone time to keep
account of the games, and as this record came out in favour
of him, we kept a list of the doublets thrown by each, as I
was convinced that he threw better than myself.
“His patience and sympathy were boundless during this
weary illness, and sometimes when most miserable E felt his
sympathy to be almost too keen. When at my worst, we
went to my aunt's house at Hartfield, in Sussex, and as soon
as we had made the moye safely he went on to Moor Park
for a fortnight's water-cure. I can recall now how on his
return I could hardly bear to have him in the toom, the
expression of tender sympathy and emotion in his face was
too agitating, coming fresh upon me after his little absence.
"He cared for all our pursuits and interests, and lived our
lives with us in a way that very few fathers do. But { am
certain that none of us felt that this intimacy interfered the
least with our respect or obedience. Whatever he said was
absolute truth and law to us He always put his whole mind
into answering any of our questions, One trifling instance
makes me fecl how he cared for what we cared for. He had
no special taste for cats, though he admired the pretty ways
WITH HIS FAMILY. 115
ofa kitten. But yet he knew and remembered the individu-
alities of my many cats, and would talk about the habits and
characters of the more remarkable ones years after they had
died.
“ Another characteristic of his treatment of hts children
was his respect for their liberty, and for their personality.
Even as quite a girl, 1 remember rejoicing in this sense of
freedom, Our father and mother would not even wish to
know what we were doing or thinking unless we wished to
tell, He always made us fecl that we were each of us ereat-
utes whose opinions and thoughts were valuable to him, so
That whatever there was best in us came out in the sunshine
‘of his presence.
“1 do not think his exaggerated sense of our good quali-
ies, intellectual or moral, made us conceited, as might perhaps
have been expected, but rather more humble and grateful to
him. The reason being no doubt that the influence of his
character, of his sincerity and greatness of nature, had
miich deeper and more lasting effect than any small exalta-
tion which his praises or admiration may have caused to our
vanity.”
As head of a household he was much loved and respected ;
he always spoke to servants with politeness, using the expres-
sion, “would you be so good,” in asking for anything. He
was hardly ever angry with his servants ; it shows how seldom
this occurred, that when, a8 a small boy, T overheard a servant
being scolded, and my father speaking angrily, it impressed
tee as an appalling circumstance, and I remember running up
stairs out of a general sense of awe. He did not trouble him-
self about the management of the garden, cows, &e. He
considered the horses so little his concern, that he used to ask
doubtfully whether he might have a horse and cart to send to
Keston for Drosera, or to the Westerham purseries for plants,
or the like.
‘As a host my father had a peculiar charm: the presence
Sof wisliors excited him, and made him appear to his best
m6 REMINISCENCES
advantage, At Shrewsbury, he used to say, it was his father’s
wish that the guests should be attended to constantly, and in
one of the letters to Fox he speaks of the impossibility of
writing a letter while the house was full of company. I think
he always felt uneasy at not doing more for the entertainment
of his guests, but the result was successful ; and, to make up
for any loss, there was the gain that the guests felt perfectly
free to do as they liked. The most usual visitors were those
who stayed from Saturday till Monday; those who remained
longer were generally relatives, and were considered to be
rather more my mother’s affair than his.
Besides these visitors, there were foreigners and other
strangers, who came down for luncheon and went away in
the afternoon, He used conscicatiously to represent to them
the enormous distance of Down from London, and the labour
it would be to come there, unconsciously taking for granted
that they would find the journey as toilsome as he did him-
sclf. If, however, they were not deterred, he used to arrange
their journcys for them, telling them when to come, and prac
tically when to go. Tt was pleasant to see the way in which
he shook hands with a guest who was being welcomed for the
first time; his hand used to shoot out in a way that gaye one
the feeling that it was hastening to meet the guest’s hands,
With old friends his hand came down with a hearty swing
into the other hand in a way T always had satisfaction in see-
ing. His good-bye was chiefly characterised by the pleasant
way in which he thanked his guests, as he stood at the door,
for having come to see him.
These luncheons were very successful entertainments,
there was no drag or flagging about them, my father wis
bright and excited throughout the whole visit, Professor De
Candolle bas described a visit to Down, in his admirable and
sympathetic sketch of my father.* He speaks of his manner
as resembling that of a “savant” of Oxford or Cambridge.
* *Darwin comiidéré au point de vue des causes de son sucety’—
Geneva, r882,
MANNER. nz
‘This does not strike me as quite a good comparisor his
ease and naturalness there was more of the manner of some
soldiers; a manner arising from total absence of pretence or
affectation. 11 was this absence of pose, and the natural and
simple way in which he began talking to his guests, so as to
get them on their own lines, which made him so charming a
host to a stranger. His happy choice of matter for talk
seemed (o flow out of his sympathetic nature, and humble,
| vivid interest in other people's work.
To some, 1 think, be caused actual pain by his modesty;
T have seen the late Francis Balfour quite discomposed by
having knowledge ascribed to himself on a point about which
my father claimed to be utterly ignorant.
It is difficult to seize on the characteristics of my father's
conversation.
He had more dread than have most people of repeating
‘his stories, and continually said, “You must have heard me
#* or “I dare say I've told you," One peculiarity he had,
which gave a curious effect to his conversation. The first
few words of a sentence would often remind him of some
‘exception to, or some reason against, what he was going to
say; and this again brought up some other point, so that the
Sentence would become a system of parenthesis within paren
thesis, and it was often impossible to understand the drift of
what he was saying until he came to the end af his sentence,
He used to say of himself that he was not quick enough
hold an argument with any one, and I think this was true.
Unless it was a subject on which he was just then at work,
he could not get the train of argument into working order
quickly enough, This is shown even in his letters; thus, in
the case of two letters to Prof. Semper abant the effect of
isolation, he did not recall the serics of facts he wanted until
vome days after the first letter had been sent off.
When puzzled in talking, he had a peculiar stammer on
the first word of a sentence. 1 only recall this occurring with
words beginning with w; possibly he had a special difficulty
‘with this letter, for I have heard him say that as a boy he
ug REMINISCENCES.
could not pronounce w, and that sixpence was offered him if
he could say “white wine," which he pronounced “rite rine.”
Possibly he may have inherited this tendency from Erasmus
Darwin, who stammered.*
He sometimes combined his metaphors in a curious way,
using such a phrase as “holding on like life,""—a mixture of
“holding on for his life,” and “holding on like grim death.”
It came from his eager way of putting emphasis into what he
was saying, This sometimes yave an air of exaggeration
where it was not intended; but it gave, too, a noble air of
strong and generous conviction; as, for instance, when he
gave his evidence befare the Royal Commission on vivisection
and came out with his words about cruelty, “It deserves
detestation and abhorrence.” When he felt strongly about
any similar question, he could hardly trust himself to speak,
as he then easily became angry, a thing which he disliked
excessively. He was conscious that his anger had a tendency
to multiply itself in the utterance, and for this reason dreaded
(for example) having to scold. a seevant,
It was a great proof of the modesty of his style of talking,
that, when, for instance, a number of visitors came over from
Sir John Lubbock’s for a Sunday afternoon call he never
seemed to be preaching ot lecturing, although he had so much
of the talk to himself. He was particularly charming when
“chaffing” any one, and in high spirits over it. His manner
at such times was light-hearted and boyish, and his refine-
ment of nature came out most strongly. So, when he was
talking to a lady who pleased and amused him, the combinas
tion of raillery and deference in his manner was delightfal
to see.
When my father had several guests he managed them well,
getting @ talk with each, or bringing two or three together
* My father related a Johnsonian anqwer of Rraumus Das
find \t very inconvenient stammering, Dr, Darwin?"
cause E have time to think before 1 speak, and don't ask impertinent ques
tions.”
FRIENDS. 119
round his chair, In these conversations there was always
a good deal of fun, and, speaking generally, there was cither
a humorous turn in his talk, or a sunny geniality which
served instead. Perhaps my recollection of a pervading ele-
ment of humour is the more vivid, because the best talks were
with Mr, Husley, in whom there ix the aptness which is akin
to humour, even when humour itself is not there, My father
enjoyed Mr. Huxley's humour exceedingly, and would often
say, “What splendid fun Huxley is!” 1 think he probably
had more scientific argument (of the nature of a fight) with
Lyell and Sir Joseph Hooker.
He used to say that it grieved him to find thut for the
friends of his later life he had not the warm affection of
his youth. Certainly in his carly letters from Cambridge
he gives proofs of very strong friendship for Herbert and
Fox; but no one except himself would have said that his
affection for hig friends was not, throughout life, of the
warmest possible kind. In serving a friend he would not
spare himself, and precious time and strength were willingly
give. He undoubtedly had, to an unusual degree, the power
of attaching his friends to him. He had many warm friend~
ships, bot to Sir Joseph Hooker he was bound by ties of
affection stronger than we offen see among men. He wrote
im his “Recollections, “Ihave known hardly any man more
Jovable than Hooker.”
His relationship to the village people was a pleasant one;
he treated them, one and all, with courtesy, when he came in
eontact with them, and took an interest in all relating to
their welfare, Some time after he came to live at Down he
helped to found a Friendly Club, and served as treasurer for
thirty years, He took much trouble about the club, keep-
ing its accounts with minute and scrupulous exactness, and
taking pleasure in its prosperous condition. Every Whit-
Monday the club used to march round with band and banner,
and paraded on the lawn in front of the house. ‘There he met
them, and explained to them their financial position ina little
speech seasoned with a few well worn jokes, He was often
120 REMINISCENCES.
unwell enough to make even this little ceremony an exertion,
but I think he never failed to meet them,
He was also treasurer of the Coal Club, which gave him
some work, and he acted for some years as a County Magis-
trate.
With regard to my father's interest in the affairs of the
village, Mr. Brodie Innes has been so good as to give me his
recollections —
“On my becoming Vicar of Down in 1846, we became
friends, and 40 continued till his death, His conduct towards
me and my family was one of unvarying kindness, and we
repaid it by warm affection
“Tn all parish matters he was an active assistant ;
matters connected with the schools, charities, and other busi-
ness, his liberal contribution was ever ready, and in the
differences which at times occurred in that, as is ether
parishes, T was always sure of his support. He held that
where there wes really no important objection, his assistance
should be given to the clergyman, who ought to know the
circumstances best, and was chiefly responsible,”
His intercourse with strangers was marked with scrapalous
and rather formal politeness, but in fact he had few oppar-
tunities of meeting strangers.
Dr. Lane has deseribed* how, on the rare occasion of
my father attending a lecture (Dr. Sanderson's) at the Royal
Institution, “the whole assembly rose to their feet to
welcome him,” while he seemed “scarcely conscious that
such an outburst of applause could possibly be intended for
himself." ‘The quict life he led at Down made him feel con-
fused in a large society ; for instance, at the Royal Society's
soirdes he felt oppressed by the numbers, The feeling that he
ought to know people, and the difficulty he bad in remember-
ing faces in his latter years, also added to his discomfort on
* Leolure by Dr. 1, W, Richardson, in St. George's Hall, Oct. 23, 1882.
WORK. wat
sch oceasions. He did not realise that he would be recog-
nixed from his photographs, and I remember his being uneasy
at being obviously recognised bya stranger at the Crystal
Palace Aquarium,
‘1 must say something of his manner of working: one
istic of it was his respect for time; he never forgot
how precious it was, ‘This was shown, for instance, in the
way in which he tried to curtail his holidays; also, and more
‘clearly, with respect to shorter periods. He would often say,
that saving the minutes was the way to get work done; he
showed this love of saving the minutes in the difference he
felt between a quarter of an hour and ten minutes’ work; he
never wasted afew spare minutes from thinking that it was
‘pot worth while to set to work, 1 was often struck by his
way of working up to the very limit of his strength, so that
he suddenly stopped in dictating, with the words, “I believe
Tmustn’t do any more." ‘The same eager desire not to lose
time was seen in his quick movements when at work, T
particularly remember noticing this when he was making an
experiment on the roots of beans, which required some care
fm manipulation; fastening the little bits of card upon the
roots was done carefully and necessarily slowly, but the in-
termediate movements were all quick; taking a fresh bean,
seeing that the root was healthy, impaling it on a pin, fixing
itor a cork, and sccing thar it was vertical, &c.; all these
procsses were performed with a kind of restrained eagerness.
‘He always gave one the impression of working with pleasure,
and notwith any drag IT have an image, too, of himas he
recorded the result of some experiment, looking eagerly at
ench root, &c., and then writing with equal eagerness. 1
remember the quick movement of his head up and down as
hie looked from the object to the notes.
He saved a great deal of time through not having to do
Ahings twice, Although he would patiently go on repeating
‘experiments where there was any good to be gained, he could
Not endure having to repeat an experiment which ought, if
complete care had been taken, to have succeeded the first
9
EE i)
122 REMINISCENCES,
time—and this gave him a continual anxiety that the experi-
ment should not be wasted; he felt the experiment to be
sacred, however slight 4 one it was He wished to learn as
much as possible from an experiment, so that he did not cons
fine himself to observing the single point to which the experi>
ment was directed, and his power of seeing a number of other
things was wonderful. 1do not think he cared for prelimi-
nary or rough observation intended to scrve as guides and
to be repeated, Any experiment done was to he of some tse,
and in this connection f remember how strongly he urged the
necessity of keeping the notes of experiments which failed,
and to this cule he always adhered. :
In the literary part of his work he had the same horror of
losing time, and the same zcal in what-he was doing at the
moment, and this made him careful not to be obliged unneces
sarily to read anything @ second time.
His natural tendency was to use simple methods and few
instruments, ‘The use of the compound microscope has much
increased since his youth, and this at the expense of the
simple one. It strikes us nowadays as extrnordinary that he
should have had no compound microscope when he went his
Beagle voyage; but in this he followed the advice of Robt.
Brown, wha was an authority in such matters. He always
had a great liking for the simple microscope, and maintained
that nowadays it was too much neglected, and that one ought
always to see as much as possible with the simple before
taking to the compound microscope. In one of his letters
he speaks on this point, and remarks that he always suse
pects the work of a man who never ubes the simple micro-
scope.
His dissecting table was a thick board, let into a window
of the study; it was lower than an ordinary table, so that be
could not have worked at it standing: but this, from wishing
to save his strength, he would not have done in any ease, He
sat at his dissecting-table ona curious low stool which had
belonged to his father, with a seat revolving on a vertical
spindle, and mounted on large castors, so that he could turn
. WORK. 133
side to side. His ordinary tools, &c., were lying
about on the table, but besides these a number of odds and
‘ends were kept in around table full of radiating drawers, and
turning on a vertical axis, which stood close by his left side,
as he sat at his microscope-table. The drawers were labelled,
“best tools,” “rough tools,” “specimens,” “ preparations for
specimens,” &c. The most marked peculiarity of the con-
tents of these drawers was the care with which little scraps
and almost useless things were preserved; he held the well-
known belief, that if you threw a thing away you were sure
to want it directly—and so things accumulated.
If any one had looked at his tools, &,, lying on the table,
he would have been struck by an air of simpleness, make-shift,
and oddness.
At his right hand were shelves, with a number of other
‘odds and ends, glasses, saucers, tin biscuit boxes for germi-
nating seeds, zinc labels, saucers full of sand, &e., &e, Con-
sidering how tidy and methodical he was in essential things,
it is curious that he bore with so many make-shifts: for in»
stance, instead of having a box made of a desired shape, and
stained black inside, he would hunt up something like what
fhe wanted and get it darkened inside with shoe-blacking ;
he did not care to have glass covers made for tumblers in
whieh he germinated seeds, but used broken bits of isregular
shape, with perhaps a narrow angle sticking usclessly out on
one side, But so much of his experimenting was of a simple
‘kind, that he had no anced for any elaboration, and 1 think
his habit in this respect was in great measure duc to his
Gesite to husband his strength, and not waste it on inessential
Hiss way of marking objects may here be mentioned. If
Te had a number of things to distinguish, such as leaves,
Hlowers, &c., he tied threads of different colours round them,
To particular he used this method when he had only two
‘classes of objects to distinguish; thus in the case of crossed
‘and self-fertilised flowers, one set would be marked with
‘Black and one with white thread, tied round the stalk of the
a &
14 REMINISCENCES,
flower, I remember well the look of two sets of capsules,
gathered and waiting to be weighed, counted, &c., with pieces
of black and of white thread to distinguish the trays in which
they lay. When he had to compare two sets of seedlings,
sowed in the same pot, he separated them by a partition of
zinceplate; and the zinc label, which gave the necessary de-
tails about the experiment, was always placed on a certain
side, so that it became instinctive with him to know without
reading the label which were the “crossed” and which were
the “ self-fertilised.
His love of each particular experiment, and his eager real
not to lose the fruit of it, eame out markedly in these cross
ing experiments—in the elaborate care he took not to make
any confusion in putting capsules into wrong trays, &e., Ke.
I can recall his appearance as he counted sceds under the
simple microscope with an alertness not usually characterising
such mechanical work as counting. I think he personified
each seed as a small demon trying to elude him by getting
into the wrong heap, of jumping away altogether; and this
give to the work the excitement of a game, He had great
ith in instruments, and [ do not think it naturally occerred
tohim to doubt the accuracy of a scale or measuring glars,
&e. He was astonished when we found that one of his mi-
erometers differed from the other. He did not require any
great accuracy in most of his measurements, and had mot
good scales; he had an old three-foot rule, which was the
common property of the household, and was constantly being
borrowed, because it was the only one which was certain to
be in its place—untess, indeed, the last borrower had forgot-
ten to put it back. For measuring the height of plants he
had a seven-foot deal rod, graduated by the village carpenter.
Latterly he took to using paper scales graduated to milli-
meters. For small objects he used a pair of compasses and
an ivory protractor. Tt was characteristic of him that he took
scrupulous pains in making mcasurements with his somewhat
rough scales, A trifling example of his faith in authority is
that he took his “inch in terms of millimeters” from an old
hook, in which it tamed out to be inaccurately given, He
‘had a chemical balance which dated from the days when he
worked at chemintey with his brother Erasmus. Mewsure-
‘ments of capacity were made with an apothecary’s measuring
glass: T remember well its rough look and bad graduation,
WEB this, too, I remember the great care he took in getting
the fuid-line on to the graduation. Ido not mean by this
account of his instruments that any of his experiments suffered
from want of accuracy in measurement, I give them as exam~
ples of his simple methods aod faith in othem—faith at
feast in instrument-makers, whose whole trade was a mystery
to him,
‘A few of his mental characteristics, bearing especially on
his mode of working, occur to me, There was one quality of
wind which seemed to be of special and extreme advantage
in leading him to make discoveries. It was the power of never
— letting exceptions pass unnoticed. Everybody notices a fact
‘Be an exception when it is striking or frequent, but he had a
© special instinet for arresting an exception. A point appar
‘ently slight and unconnected with his present work is passed
‘over by many a man almost unconsciously with some half-
explanation, which is in fact no explanation. It
‘was just these things that he seized on to make a start from,
Th a certain sense there is nothing special in this procedure,
© many discoveries being made by means of it, T only mention
ft because, as I watched him at work, the value of this
‘Power to an experimenter was so strongly impressed upon
me.
Apother quality which was showa in his experimental
[torts was his power of sticking to a subject; he used almost
‘t0 apologise for his patience, stying that he could not bear to
he Desten, as if this were rather a sign of weakness on his
part, He often quoted the saying, “t's dogged as does it;"
I think doggedness expresses his frame of mind almost
Detter than perseverance. Perseverance seems hardly to ex:
Press his almost fierce desire to force the truth to reveal itsell.
‘He often said that it was important that a man should know
126 REMINISCENCES,
the right point at which to give up an inquiry. And I think
it was his tendency to pass this point that inclined him to
apologise for his perseverance, and gave the air of doggedness
to his work.
He often said that no one could be a good observer unless
‘This brings me back to what
I said about his instinct for arresting exceptions ; it was as
though he were charged with theorising power ready to flow
into any channel on the slightest disturbance, so that no fact,
however small, could avoid releasing a stream of theory, and
thus the fact became magnified into importance. In this way
it naturally happened that many untenable theories occurred
to him; but fortunately his richness of imagination was
equalled by his power of judging and condemning the
thoughts that occurred to him. He was just to his theories,
and did not condemn them unheard; and so it happened
that he was willing to test what would seem to most people
not at all worth testing. These rather wild trials he called
“ fool's experiments,” and enjoyed extremely, As an exam
ple f may mention that finding the cotyledons of Biophytum
to be highly sensitive to vibrations of the table, he fancied
that they might perceive the vibrations of sound, and there-
fore made me play my bassoun close to a plant *
The love of experiment was very strong in him, and 1 can
remember the way he would say, “I shan’t be easy till T have
tried it," as if an outside force were driving him. He enjayed
experimenting much more than work which omly entailed
reazoning, and when he was engaged on one of his books
which required argument and the marshalling of facts, he felt
experimental work to be a rest or holiday. “Thus, while work-
ing upon the ‘Variations of Animals and Plants,’ in 1860-61,
he made out the fertilisation of Orchids, and thought himself
idle for giving so much time to them, Tt is interesting to
think that so important a piece of research should have been
* This is not so mach an example of superabundant theoridng fram a
amall cause, but only of his wish to test the most improbable ideas
WORK, 127
cundertaken and largely worked out as a pastime in place of
more serious work. ‘The letters to Hooker of this period can-
tain expressions such as, “God forgive me for being so idle:
Tam quite sillily interested in this work.” ‘The intense pleas-
ure he took in understanding the adaptations for fertilisation
is strongly shown in these letters. He speaks in one of his
letters of his intention of working at Drosera as a rest from
the “Descent of Man.’ He has described in his 'Recollee~
tions’ the strong satisfaction he felt in solving the problem of
heterostylism. And I have heard him mention that the Geol-
ogy of South America gave him almost more pleasure than
anything else, It was perhaps this delight in work requiring
Keen observation that made him value praise given to his
observing powers almost more than appreciation of his other
For books he had no respect, but merely considered them
as tools to be worked with. Thus he did not bind them, and
even when a paper book fell to pieces from use, a8 happened
to Miller's" Befruchtung,’ he preserved it from complete dis«
solittion by putting a metal clip over its back. In the same
way he would cut « heavy book in half, to make it more con»
venient to hold. He used to boast that he made Lyell pub-
fish the second edition of one of his books in two volumes in
stead of in one, by telling him how he had been obliged to
cutitinhalf. Pamphlets were often treated even more severe-
Ty than books, for he would tear out, for the sike of saving
to0e2, all the pages except the one that interested him, ‘The
‘consequence of all this was, that his library was not orna-
‘mental, but was striking from being so evidently « working
eallection of books,
‘He was methodical in his manner of reading books and
pamphicts bearing on his own work. He had one shelf on
‘which were piled up the hooks he had not yet read, and an-
‘other to which they were transferred after having been read,
and before being catalogued. He would often groan over his
unread books, because there were so many which he knew he
should never read. Many a book was at once transferred to
=
128 REMINISCENCES.
the other heap, cither marked with a cypher at the end, to
show that it contained no marked passages, or inscribed, per-
haps, “not read,” or “only skimmed," The books accumu
lated in the “read” heap until the shelves overflowed, and
then, with much lamenting, a day was given up to the cata-
loguing. He disliked this work, and as the necessity of under~
taking the work became imperative, would often say, in a
voice of despair, “We really must do these books soon.
In each book, as he read it, he marked passages bearing
on his work. In reading » book or pamphlet, &c., he made
pencil-lines at the side of the page, often adding short
remarks, and at the end made a list of the pages marked.
When it was to be catalogued and put away, the marked
pages were looked at} and so a rough abstract of the book
was made, This abstract would perhaps be written under
three or four headings on different sheets, the facts being
sorted out and added to the previously collected facts in dif-
ferent subjects. He had other sets of abstracts arranged, not
according to subject, but according te periodical. When col-
lecting facts on a large scale, in earlier years, he used to read
through, and make abstracts, in this way, of whole series of
periodicals.
In some of his carly letters he speaks of filling several
note-books with facts for his book on species: but it was
certainly early that he adopted his plan of using portfolios
as described in the ‘Recollections."* My father and M. de
Candolle were mutually pleased to discover that they had
adopted the same plan of classifying facts, De Candolle de=
scribes the method in his ‘Phytologic,’ and in his sketch of
my father mentions the satisfaction he felt in seeing it in
action at Down.
Besides these portfolios, of which there are some dozens
fall of notes, there ate large bundles of MS. marked “used *
* ‘The racks on which the p.rtfolius wete placed are shown in the illuse
teation, "The Study of Down,” facing p. tof, in the recess at thetight-
hand side ot the fire-place,
—
Srvne 129
He felt the value of his notes, and had a”
of their destruction by fire. I remember, when some”
‘of fire had happened, his begging me to be especially
adding very earnestly, that the rest of his life would
be miserable if his notes and books were to be destroyed,
He shows the same feeling in writing about the loss of a
manuscript, the purport of his words being, "I bave a copy,
‘ot the loss would have killed me." In writing » book he
would spend much time and labour in making a skeleton or
plan of the whole, and in enlarging and sub-classing each”
heading, as described in his ‘Recollections.’ I think this
careful arrangement of the plan was not at all essential to the
building up of his argument, but for its presentment, and for
the arrangement of his facts. In his ‘Lifeof Erasmus Darwin,’
fas it was first printed in slips, the growth of the book from a
skeleton was plainly visible, The arrangement was altered
afterwards, because it was too formal and categorical, and
seemed to give the character of his grandfather rather by
means of a list of qualities than as a complete picture.
At was only within the last few years that he adopted a plan
‘of writing which he was convinced suited him best, and which
is described in the ‘Recollections ;" namely, writing a rough
‘copy stealght off without the slightest attention to style. It
was characteristic of him that he felt unable to write with
‘sufficient want of care if he used his best paper, and thus it
was that he wrote on the backs of old proofs or manuscript.
‘The tough copy was then reconsidered, and a fair copy wan
made For this purpose he had foolscap paper ruled at wide
intervals, the lines being needed to prevent him writing so
‘closely that correction became difficult. The fair copy was
then corrected, and was recopied before being sent to the
printers. The copying was done by Mr. E. Norman, who
‘began this work many years ago when village schoolmaster at
Down. My father became so used to Mr. Norman's band-
‘Writing, that he could not correct manuscript, even when
clearly written out by one of his children, until it had been
recopied by Mr. Norman, ‘The MS,, on returning from Mr.
He
130 REMINISCENCES,
Norman, was once more corrected, and then sent off to the
printers. ‘Then came the work of revising and correcting the
proofs, which my father found especially wearisome.
It was at this stage that he first seriously considered the
style of what he had written, Wheo this was going on he
usually started some other piece of work as a relief. The
correction of slips consisted in fact of two processes, for the
correction were first written in pencil, and then re-considered
and written in ink,
When the book was passing through the “slip” stage he
was glad to have corrections and suggestions from others.
Thus my mother looked over the proofs of the ‘Origin. In
some of the later works my sister, Mrs, Litehfied, did much
of the correction, After my sister's marriage perhaps most
of the work fell to my share.
My sister, Mrs. Litchfield, writes —
“This work was very interesting in itsslf, and it was inex-
pressibly exhilarating to work for him. He was always so
* ready to be convineed that any suggested alteration was an
improvement, and so full of gratitude for the trouble taken.
T do not think that he ever used to forget to tell me what im-
provement he thought that I had made, and he used almost
to excuse himself f he did not agree with any correction. 1
think I felt the singular modesty and graciousness of his
nature through thus working for him in a way Enever should
otherwise have done
“He did not write with case, and was apt to invert his
sentences both in writing and speaking, putting the qualifying
clause before it was clear what it was to qualify, He corrected
a great deal, and was eager to express himself as well as be
possibly could.”
Perhaps the commonest corrections needed were of obscu-
ities duc to the omission of a necessary link in the reasoning,
something which he had evidently omitted through familiazity
with the subject. Not that there was any fault in the sequence
‘STYLE, 431
‘of the thoughts, but that from familiarity with his argument
he did not notice when the words failed to reproduce his
thought. He also frequently put too much matter into one
sentence, So that it had to be cut up into two.
On the whole, f think the pains which my father took over
the liverary part of the work was very remarkable, He often
laughed or grumbled at himself for the difficulty which he
found in writing English, saying, for instance, that if a bad
Arrangement of s sentence was possible, he should be sure to
adopt it, He once got much amusement and satisfaction out
‘of the difficulty which one of the family found in writing a
Short circular, “He had the pleasure of correcting and laugh-
ing at obscurities, involved sentences, and other defects, and
thus took his revenge for all the criticism he had himself
to bear with. He used to quote with astonishment Miss
Martineau's advice to young authors, to write straight off
‘and send the MS. to the printer without correction, But in
some eases he acted in a somewhat similar manner. When
= sentence got hopelessly involved, he would ask himself,
“now what do you want to say?" and his answer written
_ down, would often disentangle the confusion,
His style has been much praised: on the other hand, at
~ Teust one good judge has remarked to me that it is not a good
Style. It is, above all things, direct and clear; and it is
characteristic of himself in its simplicity, bordering on naiveté,
‘and initsabsence of pretence. He had the strongest disbelief
in the common idea that a classical scholar must write good
English ; indecd, he thought that the contrary was the case,
In writing, he sometimes showed the same tendency to strong,
Expressions as he did in conversation. Thus in the * Origin’
P. 449, there is a description of a larval cirripede, “with
SIX pairs of beautifully constructed natatory legs, a pair of
‘magnificent compound eyes, and cxtremely complex antennwe.””
We vised to laugh at him for this sentence, which we coms
pared toan advertisement, This tendency to give himself
“Up to the enthusiastic turn of his thought, without fear of
“Dejng ludicrous, appears elsewhere in his writings,
le
132 REMINISCENCES.
His courteous and conciliatory tone towards his reader is
remarkable, ard it must be partly this quality which revealed
his personal sweetness of character to 80 many who had
never seen him, I have always felt it to be a curious fact,
that he who had altered the face of Biological Science,
and is in this respect the chief of the modems, should
have written and worked in 50 essentially a non-modern spirit
and manner, In reading his books one is reminded of the
older naturalists rather than of the modern school of writers,
He was a Naturalist in the old sense of the word, that is,
man who works at many branches of the science, not merely
a specialist inone. Thus it is, that, though he founded whole
new divisions of special subjects—such as the fertilisation of
flowers, insectivoraus plants, dimorphism, &c.—yet even in
treating these very subjects he does not strike the reader as a
specialist. The reader fcels like a friend who is being talked
to by a courteous gentleman, not like a pupil being lectured
by a professor. ‘The tone of such a book as the ‘Origin * is
charming, and almost pathetic; it is the tone of a man who,
convinced of the truth of his own views, hardly expects to
convince othees; it is just the reverse of the style of a fanatic,
who wants to force people to believe. ‘The reader is never
scorned for any amount of doubt which he may be imagined
to feel, and his scepticism is treated with patient respect, A
sceptical reader, of perhaps even an unreasonable reader,
seems to have been generally present to his thoughts. It.was
in consequence of this feeling, perhaps, that he took much
trouble aver points which he imagined would strike the reader,
‘or save him trouble, and so tempt him to read.
For the some reason he took much interest in the illustra-
tions of his books, and 1 think rated rather too highly their
value, The illustrations for his earlier books were drawn by
professional artists. This was the case in ‘Animals and
Plants,’ the ‘Descent of Man,’ and the ‘Expression of the
Emotions.” On the other hand, ‘Climbing Plants," * Insee-
tivorous Plants,’ the ‘Movements ef Plants,’ and ‘Forms of
Flowers,’ were, to a large extent, illustrated by some of his
Ean 133
children—my brother George having drawn by far the most,
Vt was delightful to draw for him, as he was enthusiastic in
his praise of very moderate performances, 1 remember well
his charming manner of receiving the drawings of one of his
daughtervin-law, and how he would finich his words of praise
hy saying, ‘Tell A—, Michael Angelo is Aothing to it.”
‘Though he praised 4o generously, be always looked closely at
the drawing, and easily detected iistakes of carelessness,
He had a horror of being lengthy, and scems to have
been really much annoyed and distressed when he found how
the “Variations of Animals and Plants” was growing under
his hands I remember his cordially agreeing with ' Tristram
Shandy’s" words, “Jet no man say, ‘Come, Mil
duodecimo.'”
His consideration for other authors was as marked a char-
acteristic as his tone towards his reader. He speaks of all
other agthors as persons deserving of respect. In cases
where, as in the case of *s experiments om Drosera, he
of the author, he speaks of him in such a way
guspeet it, In other cases he treats the
ceonfsed writings of ignorant persons as though the fault lay
for not appreciating or understanding them,
general tone of respect, he had a pleasant way of
expressing his opinion on the value of a quoted work, or hia
obligation for a piece of private information,
His respectful fecling was not only morally beautiful, but
was T think of practical use in making hin ready to consider
the ideas and observations of all manner of people. He used
almost to apologise for this, and would say that he was at
first inclined to rate everything too highly.
Te was a great merit in his mind that, in spite of having so
Strong @ respectful feeling towards what he read, he had the
keenest of instincts as to whether a man was trustworthy or
not. He seemed to form a very definite opinion as to the
accuracy of the men whose books he read; and made use of
‘this judgment in his choice of facts for use in argument or
a8 illustrations. I gained the impression that he felt this
=— Fi
( MINESCI
power of judging of a man's trustworthiness to be of much
value,
He had a keen fecling of the sense of honour that ought
to reign among authors, and had a harror of any kind of lax-
ness in quoting, He had a contempt for the love of honour
and glory, and in his letters often blames himself for the
Pleasure he took in the success of his books, as though he
were departing from his ideal—a Jove of truth and careless.
és about fame. Often, when writing to Sir J. Hooker what
he calls a boasting letter, he laughs at himself for his conceit
and want of modesty. ‘There is a wonderfully interesting
letter which he wrote to my mother bequeathing to her, in
case of his death, the care of publishing the manuscript cf his
first essay on evolution, This letter secms to me full of the
intense desire that his theory shouid succeed as a contribu-
tion to knowledge, and apart from any desire for personal
fame. He certainly had the healthy desire for success which
aman of strong feelings ought to have, But at the time of
the publication of the * Origin’ it is evident that he was over>
whelmingly satisfied with the adherence of such men as Lyell,
Hooker, Huxley, and Asa Gray, and did not dream of or
desire any such wide and general fame as he attained to.
Connected with his contempt for the undue love of fame,
was an equally strong dislike of all questions of priority. The
letters to Lyell, at the time of the * Origin,’ show the anger he
felt with himself for not being able to repress # feeling of dis-
appointment at what he thought was Mr, Wallace’s forestalle
ing of all his years of work, His sense of literary honour
comes out strongly in these letters; and his feeling about
priority is again shown in the admiration expressed in his
* Recollections" of Mr, Wallace's self-annihilation.
Fis feeling about reclamations, including answers to at-
tacks and all kinds of discussions, was strong. It is simply
expressed in a letter to Falconer (18632), “If I ever felt
angry towards you, for whom I have a sincere friendship, E
should begin to suspect that Iwasa little mad, Twas very
sorry about your reclamation, as I think it is in every case a
ee
TAL MEALTI 135
‘mistake and should be left to others, Whether I should so
‘act myself under provocation isa different question.” It was
@ feeling partly dictated by instinctive delicacy, and partly
‘by a strong sense of the waste of time, energy, and temper
‘thes caused, He said that he owed his determination not to
get into discussions™ to the advice of, L.yell,—advice which
he transmitted to those among his friends who were given to
paper warfare,
If the character of my father’s working life is to be undes-
‘stood, the conditions of ill-health, under which he worked,
must be constantly borne in mind, He bore his illness with
such uncomplaining patience, that even his children can
hardly, 1 believe, realise the extent of his habitual suffering,
‘Tn their case the difficulty is heightened by the fact that,
from the days of their carliest recollections, they saw him in
‘constant ill-health,—and saw him, in spite of ir, full of pleas«
ure in what pleased them. ‘Thus, in later life, their percep-
tion of what he endured had to be disentangled from the
ypression produced in childhood by constant genial kind-
‘ess under conditions of unrecognised difficulty. No one
indeed, except my mother, knows the full amount of suffering
he endured, of the full amount of his wonderful patience.
For all the latter years of his life she never left him for a
night; and her days were so planned that all his resting ||
hours might be shared with her. She shielded him from
‘every avoidable annoyance, and omitted vothing that might
‘save lim trouble, or prevent him becoming overtired, or that
might alleviate the many discomforts of his ill-health. 1 hesir
fate to speak thus freely of a thing so sacred as the life-long
* He departed from hin rul
Woodpecker, Galopter composts \s,
his “ Note on the Habits of the Pampas
Proc. Zool, S00." 1870, p. 7051 also in
$54), In which case he
afterwards ‘ol. His teplies to eritie
‘Gis, in tho Fater editions of the ‘Origin,” can hardly be clawed ay infrace
“tions of his rule,
REMINISCENCES.
devotion which prompted all this constant and tender care,
But it is, 1 repeat, a principal feature of his life, that for
nearly forty years he never knew one day of the health of
ordisary men, and thar thus his life was one long stroggle
against the weariness and strain of sickness. And this eannot
be told without speaking of the one condition which enabled
hima to bear the strain and fight out the struggle to the end.
LETTERS.
‘Tue earliest letters to which I have access are those
written by my father when an undergraduate at Cambridge.
The history of his life, as told in his correspondence,
must therefore begin with this period.
10
CHAPTER Iv.
CAMBRIDGE LIFE,
[My father's Cambridge life comprises the time between
the Lent Term, 1828, when he came up as a Freshman, and
the end of the May Term, 1831, when he took his degree and
left the University,
It appears from the College books, that my father “ admis-
sus est pensionaris minor sub Magistro Shaw" on Oct, 15,
1827, He did not come into residence till the Lent Term,
828, so that, although he passed his examination in duc sea-
son, he was unable to take his degree at the usual time;—the
beginning of the Lent Term, 1831, In such a case a man
usually took his degree before Ash-Wednesday, when he was
called “Baccalaureus ad Diem Cinerum,” and ranked with
the B.A.'s of the year. My father's name, however, occurs
in the list of Bachelors “ad Baptistam,” or those admitted
between Ash-Wednesday and St. John Baptist’s Day (June
‘a4th) ;* he therefore took rank among the Bachelors of 1932,
He “kept” for a term or two in lodgings, over Bacon the
tobacconist’s; not, however, over the shop in the Market
Place, now 80 well known to Cambridge men, but in Sidney
Street, For the rest of his time he had pleasant rooms on
the south side of the first court of Christ's. ¢
Darsin, of Christ’s College, was admitted
B.A—Cambridge Chroniete, Friday, Aptil 29, 1831.
4 The rooms are om the first loor, on the west aide of the middle stair
xe, A motallion (given by my brother) has recently been let into the
‘wall of the sitting-room.
140 CAMBRIDGE, ATAT. 1-22
What determined the choice of this college for his brother
Erasmus and himself I have no means of knowing. Erasmus
the elder, their grandfather, had been at St. John’s, and this
college might have been reasonably selected for them, being
connceted with Shrewsbury School. But the life of an under-
gmduate at St. John’s seins, in those days, to have been a
troubled one, if { may judge from the fact that a relative of
mine migrated thence to Christ's to escape the harassing dis-
cipline of the place. A story told by Mr, Herbert illustrates
the same state of things :-—
“tm the beginning of the October Term of 1830, an inci-
dent occurred which was attended with somewhat disagree-
able, though ludicrous consequences to myself, Darwin asked
me to take a long walk with him in the Fens, to search for
some natural objects he was desirous of having, After a
very long, fatiguing day’s work, we dined together, late in the
evening, at his rooms in Christ's College; and as soon as our
dinner was over we threw ourselves into easy chairs and fell
sound asleep, I was the first to awake, about three in the
morning, when, having looked at my watch, and knowing the
strict rule of St. John’s, which required men iw state puprliard
to come into college before midnight, I rushed homeward at
the utmost speed, in fear of the consequences, but hoping
that the Dean would accept the excuse as sufficient when I
told him the real facts. He, however, was inexorable, and
refused to receive my explanations, or any evidence I could
bring; and although during my undergraduateship I had
never heen reported for coming late into College, now, when
Iwas a hard-working B.A, and had five or six pupils, he
sentenced me to confinement to the College walls for the rest
of the term. Darwin's indignation knew no bounds, and the
stupid injustice and tyranny of the Dean raised not only a per-
fect ferment among my friends, but was the subject of expostu-
lation from some of the leading members of the University,
My father seems to have found no difficulty in living at
* See p. 42.
—_ = =—S
CHRIST'S COLLEGE. i4t
‘peace with all men in and out of office at Lady Margaret's
‘other foundation. ‘The impresion of & contemporary of
my father’s is that Christ's in their day was a pleasant, fairly
‘quiet college, with some tendency towards “ horsiness ; many
of the men made a custom of going to Newmarket during the
races, though betting was not a regular practice. In this ges
were by no means discouraged by the Senior Tutor, Mr,
Shaw, who was himsclf generally to be seen on the Heath on
these occasions. There was a somewhat high proportion of
Fellow-Commoners,—eight or nine, to sixty or seventy Pen-
‘stoners, and this would indicate that it was not an unpleasant
college for men with money to spend and with no great love
‘of striet discipline.
‘The way in which the service was conducted in chapel
shows that the Dean, at least, was not over zealous, I have
heard my father tell how at evening chapel the Dean used to
read alternate verses of the Psalms, without making even a
pretence of waiting for the congregation to take their share,
And when the Lesson was a lengthy one, he would rise and
go On with the Canticles after the scholar had read fifteen or
twenty verses,
Itis curious that my father often spoke of his Cambridge
life ag if it had been so much time wasted, forgetting that,
although the set studies of the place were barren enough for
him, he yet gained in the highest degree the best advantages
of a University life—the contact with men and an opportunity
for his mind to grow vigorously. Itis true that he valued
at its highest the advantages which he gained from associating,
with Professor Henslow and some others, but he seemed to
consider this asachance outcome of his life at Cambridge,
fot an advantage for which Alma Mater could claim any
credit, One of my father’s Cambridge friends was the late
Mr. J. M. Herbert, County Court Judge for South Wales,
from whom I was fortunate enough to obtain some notes
which help us to gain an idea of how my father impressed
his contemporaries. Mr. Herbert writes: “I think it was in
the spring of 1828 that I first met Darwin, cither at my
442 CAMBRIDGE, TAT. 19-22.
cousin Whitley's rooms in St. John's, or at the rooms of some
other of his old Shrewsbury schoolfellows, with many of
whom I was on terms of great intimacy. But it certainly was
in the summer of that year that our acquaintance ripened
foto intimacy, when we happened to be together at Barmouth,
for the Long Vacation, reading with private tutors—he with
Batterton of St. John’s, his Classical and Mathematical Tutor,
and I with Yate of St, John’s."’
‘The intercourse between them practically ceased in 183%,
when my father said good-bye to Herbert at Cambridge, on
starting on his Beagle voyage. I once met Mr, Herbert, then
almost an old man, and Twas much struck by the evident
warmth and freshness of the affection with which he remem-
bered my father, The notes from which 1 quote end with
this warm-hearted eulogium: “Jt would be idle for me to
speak of his vast intellectual powers . . . but I cannot end
this cursory and rambling sketch without testifying, and I
doubt not all his surviving eollege friends would concur with
me, that he was the most genial, warm-hearted, generous, and
affectionate of friends; that his sympathies were with all that
was good and true; and that he had a cordial hatred for
everything false, or vile, or cruel, or mean, or dishonourable,
He was not only great, but pre-eminently good, and just, and
loveable” 4
‘Two ancedotes told by Mr. Herbert show that my father's
fecling for suffering, whether of man or beast, was as strong
in him asa young man as it was in later years: “ Before he
left Cambridge he told me that he had made up his mind not
to shoot any more; that he had had two days’ shooting at his
friend's, Mr. Owen of Woodhouse ; and that on the second
day, when going over some of the ground they had beaten
‘on the day befare, he picked up a bird not quite dead, but
lingering from a shot it had received on the previous day;
and that it had made and left such a painful impression on
his mind, that he could not reconcile it to his conscience to
continue to derive pleasure from a sport which inflicted such
eruel suffering,”
‘MR. HERBERT'S RECOLLECTIONS, 143
‘To realise the strength of the feeling that led to this re~
solve, we must remember how passionate was his love of sport.
We must recall the boy shooting his first snipe,” and trembling
‘with excitement so that he could hardly reload lis gun, Or
think of such a sentence as, “Upon my soul, it is only about
fortnight to the * First,’ then if there is a bliss on earth that
isit"t
Another anecdote told by Mr. Herbert illustrates again
hig tenderness of heart:>—
“When at Barmouth he and I went to an exhibition of
“learned dogs.’ In the middle of the entertainment one of
‘the dogs failed in performing the trick his master told him to
do, On the man reproving him, the dog put on a most
piteous expression, as if in fear of the whip. Darwin seeing
it, asked me to leave with him, saying, ‘Come along, I can't
stand this any longer; how those poor dogs must have been
Hicked."”
It is curious that the same feeling recurred to my father
more than fifty years afterwards, on seeing some performing
dogs at the Westminster Aquarium ; on this occasion he was
reassured by the manager telling him that the dogs were
taught more by reward than by punishment, Mr. Herbert
goes on >—"It stirred one's inmost depth of feeling to hear
him descant wpon, and groan over, the horrors of the slave-
trade, or the cruelties to which the sulfering Poles were sub-
jected to at Warsaw. . . . These, and other like proofs have
eft on my mind the conviction that a more humane or tender
hearted man never lived."
His old college friends agree in speaking with affectionate
warmth of his pleasant, genial temper asa young man. From
‘what they have been able to tell me, 1 gain the impression of
‘A young man overflowing with animal spirits—leading a varied
healthy life—not over-industrious in the set studies of thel
place, but full of other pursuits, which were followed with a
* Recollections. p. 34
f Letter from C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
144 CAMBRIDGE. ASTAT. 19-29.
rejoicing enthusiasm. Entomology, riding, shooting in the
fens, suppers and card-playing, music at King’s Chapel, en-
gravings at the Fitewilliam Museum, walks with Professor
Henslow—al! combined to fll up a happy life. He seems to
have infected others with his enthusiasm. Mr. Herbert re-
lates how, during the same Barmouth summer, he was pressed
into the service of “the science""—as my father called col-
lecting beetles, ‘They took their daily walks together among
the hills behind Barmouth, or boated in the Mawddach estu-
ary, of sailed to Sarn Badrig to land there at low water, or
went fly-fishing in the Corsy-gedol lakes. “On these occa
sions Darwin entomologized most industriously, picking up
creatures as he walked along, and bagging everything which
seemed worthy of being pursued, or of further examination,
And very soon he armed me with a bottle of alcohol, in which
Thad to drop any beetle which struck me as not of a common
kind, 1 performed this duty with some diligence in my con-
stitutional walks; but alas! my powers of discrimination sel-
dom enabled me to secure a prize—the usual result, on his
examining the contents of my bottle, being an exclamation,
‘Well, old Cherbury'® (the nickname he gave me, and by
which he usually addressed me), ‘none of these will do,
Again, the Rev. T. Butler, who was one of the Barmouth
readingsparty in 1828, says: “ He inoculated me with a taste
for Botany which has stuck by me all my life.”
Archdeacon Watkins, another old college friend of my
father’s, remembers him unearthing beetles in the willows
between Cambridge and Grantchester, and speaks of a certain
beetle the remembrance of whose name it “Crux major,” +
How enthusiastically must my father have exulted over this
beetle to have impressed its name on a companion so that he
remembers it after half a century! Archdeacon Watkins goes
on; “Ido not forget the long and very interesting conversa~
tions that we had about Brazilian scenery and tropical vege»
* No doubt in allusion to the title of Lord Merbert of Cherbury.
+ Panagarus crus-mafor
FRIENDS. 145
tation of all sorts. Nor do I forget the way and the wehe-
Mmence with which he rubbed his chin when he got excited
‘on such subjects, and discoursed eloquently of lianas, or
chids, &c.”"
He became intimate with Henslow, the Professor of
Botany, and through him with some other older members of
‘the University. “ But," Mr. Herbert writes, “he always kept
‘up the closest connection with the friends of his own standing;
‘and at our frequent social gatherings—at breakfast, wine or
supper partics—he was ever one of the most cheerful, the
‘fost popalar, and the most welcome.”
My father formed ane of a club for dining once a week,
‘called the Gourmet” Club, the members, besides himself and
Mr. Herbert (fom whom I quote), being Whitley of St. John’s,
now Honorary Canon of Durham; t+ Heaviside of Sidney,
now Canon of Norwich; Lovett Cameron of Trinity, now
vicar of Shoreham; Blane of Trinity, who held a high post
during the Crimean war; H. Lowe { (now Sherbrooke) of
‘Trinity Hall; and Watkins of Emmanuel, now Archdeacon
‘of York. The origin of the club's name seems already to
have become involved in obscurity, Mr. Herbert says that it
was chosen in derision of another “set of men who called
themselves by along Greek name signifying ' fond of dainties,"
‘but who falsified their claim to such a designation by their
‘weekly practice of dining at xome roadside inn, six miles from
Cambridge, on mutton chops or beans and bacon,” Another
‘old member of the club tells me that the name arose because
the members were given to making experiments on “birds
‘and beasts, which were before unknown to human palate."
He says that hawk and bittern were tried, and that their aval
‘broke down over an old brown owl, “ which was indescrib-
able.” At any mate, the meetings seemed to have been suc-
‘cessful, and to have ended with "a game of mild vingt-et-un.”
* Mr. Herbert mentions the naine ax “The Glutton Club!
+ Formerly Reader in Natural Philosophy at Durham University,
$ Brother of Lord Sherbrooke.
= &
146 CAMBRIDGE, ‘ETAT, 19-22.
Mr. Herbert gives an amusing account of the musical
examinations described by my father in his ‘Recollections.’
‘Mr. Herbert speaks strongly of his love of music, and adds,
“What gave him the greatest delight was some grand sym-
phony or overture of Mozart's or Beethoven's, with their fall
harmonics,” On one occasion Herbert remembers “accom-
panying him to the afternoon service at King’s, when we heard
a very beautiful anthem, At the end of one of the parts,
which was exceedingly impressive, be turned round to me
and said, with a deep sigh, ‘Mow's your backbone?’ He
often spoke of a feeling of coldness or shivering in his back
Penihearingy beuitifal musics
Besides a love of music, he had certainly at this time a
love of fine literature; and Mr, Cameron tells me that he us
to read Shakespeare to my father in his rooms at Christ's,
who took much pleasure in it. He also speaks of bis “great
liking for first-class line engravings, especially those of Rae
phael Morghen and Miller ; and he spent hours in the Fit-
william Museum in looking over the prints in that colleetion,”*
My father’s letters to Fox show how sorely oppressed
he felt by the reading of an examination am reading
very hard, and have spirits for nothing, I actually have not
stuck a beetle this term.” His despair over mathematics must
have been profound, when he expressed a hope that Fox's
silence is due to “your being ten fathoms deep in the Mathe-
matics ; and if you are, God help you, for so am I, only with
this difference, I stick fast in the mud at the bottom, and
there 1 shall remain.” Ms, Herbert says: “He had, I im-
agine, no natural turn for mathematics, and he gave up his
mathematical reading before he had mastered the first part
of Algebra, haying had a special quarrel with Surds and the
Binomial Theorem."
We get some evidence from his letters to Fox of my
father’s intention of going into the Church. “Iam glad,"
he writes,* “to hear that you are reading divinity. I should
* March 18, 1829.
W. D. FOX. 17
Tike to know what books you are reading, and your opinions
about them; you need not be afraid of preaching to me pre-
maturely.” Mr, Herbert's sketch shows how doubts arose in
my father’s mind as to the possibility of his taking Orders,
He writes, “We had an earnest conversation about going into
Holy Orders; and I remember his asking me, with reference
to the question put by the Bishop in the ordination service,
“Do you trust that you ure inwardly moved by the Holy
Spirit, Kc.’ whether I could answer in the affirmative, and on
ty saying I could not, he said, ‘Neither can 1, and therefore
T cannot take orders’” This conversation appears to have
taken place in 1829, and if 50, the doubts here expressed
must have been quicted, for in May 1830, he speaks of having
some thoughts of reading divinity with Henslow.
The greater number of the following letters are addressed
by my father to his cousin, William Darwin Fox. Mr. Fox's
relationship to my father is shown in the pedigree given in
Chapter I. The degree of kinship appears to have remained
A problem to my father, as he signs himself in one letter
a cousin» ‘Their friendship was, in fact, due to their being
undergraduates together, My father's letters show clearly
‘enough how genuine the friendship was. In after years, dis
tanee, large families, and ill-health on both sides, checked the
intercourse ; but a warm feeling of friendship remained. The
correspondence was never quite dropped and continued till
Mr. Fox’s death in 3880. Mr. Fox took orders, and worked
as a country clergyman until forced by ill-health to leave
his living in Delamere Forest, His love of natural history
femained strong, and he became a skilled fancier of many
Kinds of birds, &e, The index to ‘ Animals and Plants,’ and
my father’s later correspondence, show how much help he
received from his old College friend.]
a =
148 CAMBRIDGE. ATAT. 19-02. {xéa8.
©. Darwin to J. M. Herbert,
Saturday Exening
[September 14, 1438]*
My DEAR oy Cuernury,
1am about to fulfil my promise of writing to you, but
Tam sorry to add there is a very selfish motive at the bottom.
Tam going to ask you @ great favour, and you cannot imagine
how tnuch you will oblige me by procuring some more speci-
meng of some insects which I dare say 1 can describe. In
the first place, I must inform you that I have taken some of
the rarest of the British Insects, and their being found near
Barmouth, is quite unknown to the Entomological world ; 1
think I shall write and inform some of the crack entomol-
ogists.
But now for business, Several more specimens, if you cas
procure them without much trouble, of the following insects;—
The violet-black coloured beetle, found on Craig Storm,t
under stones, also a large smooth black one very like it; a
bluish metallic-coloured dung-beetle, which is tery common
‘on the hill-sides; also, if you weuld be so very kind as to
cross the ferry, and you will find a great number under the
stones on the waste land of a long, smooth, jet-black beetle
{a great many of these); also, in the same situation, a very
small pinkish insect, with black spots, with a curved thorax
projecting beyond the head; also, upon the marshy land over
the ferry, near the sea, under old seaweed, stones, &e, you
will find & small yellowish transparent beetle, with two or four
blackish marks on the back, Under these stones there are
two sorts, one much darker than the other; the lighter-col-
oured is that which I want. These last two insects are ¢x~
cessively rare, and you will really extremely oblige me by taking
all this trouble pretty soon, Remember me most kindly to
* The postmark being Derby seoms to show that the letter was written,
from bis cousin, W, 1. Fox's hovse, Osmaston, near Derby,
+The top of the hill immediately behind Barmouth was ealled Cralge
Storm, a hybrid Cambro-English word.
1835] SHOOTING. 149
Butler, tell him of my success, and I dare say both of you will
‘easily recognise these insects. I hope his caterpillars go on
well. Ithink many of the Chrysalises are well worth keeping.
I really am quite ashamed [of] so long a letter all about my
‘own concerns ; but do return good for evil, and send me a
Jong account of all your proceedings
To the first week I killed seventy-five head of game—a
very contemptible number—but there are very few birds. 1
killed, however, a brace of black game. nee then I have
been staying at the Fox's, near Derby ; it is a very pleasant
house, and the music meeting went off very well. 1 want to
hear how Yates likes his gun, and what use he has made of it,
If the bottle is not Jarge you can buy another for me,
and when you pass through Shrewsbury you can leave these
treasures, and I hope, if you possibly can, you will stay a day
or two with me, as I hope I need not say how glad J shall be
to see you again. Fox remarked what deuced good-natured
fellows your friends at Barmouth must be; and if I did not
know that you and Butler were so, I would not think of giving
you s0 much trouble.
Believe me, my dear Herbert,
Yours, most sincerely,
Cuartes Darwin,
Remember me to all friends.
[In the following January we find him looking forward
with pleasure to the beginning of another year of his Cam
bridge life: he writes to Fox—
“1 waited till to-day for the chance of a letter, but T
Will wait no longer, 1 must most sincerely and cordially
congratulate you on having finished all your labours, I think
your place a tery goad one considering by how much you
have beaten many men who had the start of you in reading.
I do so wish I were now in Cambridge (a very selfish wish,
however, as I was not with you in all your troubles and
misery), to join in all the glory and happiness, which dangers
150 CAMBRIDGE, TAT. 19-28. [r829.
gone by can give, How we would talk, walk, and entomolo-
gise | Sappho should be the best of bitches, and’ Dash, of
dogs; then should be ‘peace on earth, good will to men,—
which, by the way, I always think the most perfect descrip-
tion of happiness that words can give.""]
C, Darwin tw W. D. Fox,
Cambridge, Thursday [Pebruary 26, 1329].
My pax Fox,
When I arrived here on ‘Tuesday I found to my great
grief and surprise, a letter on my table which I had written to
you about a fortnight ago, the stupid porter never took the
trouble of getting the letter forwarded. 1 suppose you have
been abusing me fora most ungrateful wretch; but I am sure
yon will pity me now, as nothing is so vexatious as having
written a letter in vain.
‘Last Thursday I left Shrewsbury for Londom, and stayed
there till Tuesday, on which { came down here by the * Times.”
¢ The first two days I spent entirely with Mr, Hope,* and did
Tittle else but talk about and look at insects; his collection is
most magnificent, and he himself is the most generous of
entomologists; he has given me about 160 new species, and
actually often wanted to give me the rarest inscets of which
he had only two specimens. He made many civil speeches,
and hoped you will call on him yome time with me, whenever
we should happen to be in London, He greatly conspliments
our exertions in Entomology, and says we have taken a won
derfully great number of good insects. On Sunday I spent
the day with Holland, who lent me a horse to tidein the Park
with
‘On Monday evening I drank tea with Stephens; } his
* Founder of the Chair of Zoology at Oxford
1 J.P. Stephens, suthor of *A Manual of Uritish Coleoptera," 289%
and ocher works,
SHOOTING. 11
cabinet is more t than the most zealous entomolo-
gist could dream of ; he appears to be a very good-humoured
pleasant little man. Whilst in town I went to the Royal
Tnstitation, Linnean Society, and Zoological Gardens, and
‘many other places where naturalists arc gregarious, If you
‘bad been with me, I think London would be a very delightful
place ; as things were, it was much pleasanter than I could
have supposed such a dreary wilderness of houses to be,
I shot whilst in Shrewsbury a Dundiver (female Goo-
sander, as 1 suppose you know). Shaw has stuffed it, and
when I have an opportunity I will send it to Osmaston.
‘There have been shot also five Waxen Chatterers, three of
which Shaw has for sale; would you like to purchase a
‘specimen? I have not yet thanked you for your last very
Jong and agreeable letter. It would have been still more
‘agreeable had it contained the joyful intelligence that you
were coming up here; my two solitary breakfasts have already
made me aware how very very much I shall miss you,
. - . . .
Believe me,
My dear old Fox,
Most sincerely yours,
C. Danwry.
[Later on in the Lent term he writes to Fox —
“T am leading a quiet everyday sort of a life; a little of
Gibbon’s History in the morning, and a good deal of Van
Sohn the evening; this, with an occasional ride with Sim-
cox and constitutional with Whitley, makes up the regular
routine of my days. I sce a good deal both of Herbert and
Whitley, and the more I sce of them increases every day the
respect I have for their excellent understandings and disposie
tions. Theyhave been giving some very gay partics, nearly
sixty men there both evenings.)
— cox
152 CAMBRIDGE. ETAT, 15-23, {2829.
©. Darwin to WD, Fox,
Christ's College (Cambridge), April x (182)
My pear Fox,
In your letter to Holden you are pleased to observe “that
of all the blackguards you ever met with I am the greatest.”
Upon this observation I shall make no remarks, excepting
that I must give you all due credit for acting on it most rig-
idly. And now I should like to know in what one particular
are you less of a blackgusrd than I am? You idle old wretch,
why have you not answered my last letter, which I am sure
1 forwarded to Clifton nearly three weeks ago? If I was not
really very anxious to hear what you are doing, I should have
allowed you to remain till you thought it worth while to treat
me like a gentleman. And now having vented my spleen in
scolding you, and having told you, what you must know, how
very much and how anxiously I want to hear how you and
your family are getting on at Clifton, the purport of this letter
ig finished, If you did but know how often J think of you,
and how often I regret your absence, I am sure 1 should have
heard from you long enough ago.
1 find Cambridge rather stupid, and as T know scarcely any
‘one that walks, and this joined with my lips not being quite
_-4s0 well, has reduced me toa sort of hybernation, . . . Lhave
{ caught Mr. Harbour letting — have the first pick of the
beetles; accordingly we have made our final adiens, my part
in the affecting scene consisted in telling him he was a d—d
| rascal, and signifying I should kick him down the stairs if
ever lie appeared in my rooms again, It seemed altogether
mightily to surprise the young gentleman, I haye no news
to tell you ; indeed, when a correspondence has been broken
off like ours has been, it is difficult to make the first start
again, Last night there was a terrible fire at Linton, eleven
miles from Cambridge. Seeing the reflection:so plainly in
the sky, Hall, Woodyeare, Turner, and myself thought we
would ride and sce it, We set out at half-past nine, and rode
like incarnate devils there, and did not return till two in the
why.) CONDOLENCE. 153
morning. Altogether it was a most awful sight, 1 cannot
conclude without telling you, that of all the blackguards I
ever wet with, you are the greatest and the best.
©, Darwix,
©. Darwin to WD. Fox.
Cambridge, Thursday, April 93, 1829
Drecein res, [canibring + April 23, 1829.)
T have delayed answering your last letter for these few
days, as I thought that under such melancholy circumstances
my writing to you would be probably only giving you trouble.
This morning J received a letter from Catherine informing me
of that event,* which, indeed, from your letter, 1 had hardly
dared ta hope would have happened otherwise. I feel most
sincerely and deeply for you and all your family; but at the
same time, as far a8 any one can, by his own good principles
and religion, be supported under such 2 misfortune, you, I |
am assured, will know where to look for such support. And |
after so pure and holy a comfort as the Bible affords, 1 aro
‘equally assured how useless the sympathy of all friends must 4
appear, although it be as heartfelt and sincere, as T hope you
believe me capable of feeling. At such a time of deep dis-~
tress L will say nothing more, excepting that I trust your father
and Mrs. Fox bear this blow as well as, under such circum:
stances, can be hoped for,
1 am afraid it will be a long time, my dear Fox, before
we meet ; till then, believe me at all times,
Yours most affectionately,
Cuaries Darwin,
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
Shrewsbury, Friday (July 4, 1829).
My bran Fox,
I should have written to you before only that whilst our
expedition lasted I was too much engaged, and the conclu
© The death of Fox's sister, Mra Brintowe.
“
14 CAMBRIDGE, TAT. 19-22. [1629
sion was so unfortunate, that 1 was too unhappy to write to
you till this week's quiet at home. “The thoughts of Wood-
house next week has at last given me courage to relate my
unfortunate case,
T started from this place about a fortnight ago to take an
‘entomological trip with Mr. Hope through al! North Wales ;
and Barmouth was our first destination. The two first days
I went on pretty well, taking several good insects; but for
the rest of that weck my lips became suddenly so bad,” and
1 myself not very well, that I was unable to leave the room,
and on the Monday'E retreated with grief and sorrow back
again to Shrewsbury. ‘The first two days 1 took some good
insects, . .. But the days that J was unable to go out, Mr.
Hope did wonders... . and to-day I have received another
such magnificent Elaters (two species of the bright scarlet
sort). I am sure you will properly sympathise with my un-
fortunate situation: I am determined I will go over the same
ground that he does before autumn comes, and if working
hard will procure insects I wit bring home a glorious stock.
. . .
My i Fox,
Yours most sis
cerely,
Cras, DARWIN,
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox,
Shrewsbury, July 18, 1829,
Tam going to Macr next week in order to entomologise,
and shall stay there a week, and for the rest of this summer
I intend to lead a perfectly idle and wandering life.
You see J am much in the same state that you are, with this
difference, you make good resolutions and never keep them ;
Tnever make them, s0 cannot keep them ; it is all very well
writing in this manner, but I must read for my Little-go.
Graham smiled and bowed so very civilly, when he told me
* Probably with eczema, from which he often suffered,
1829. 155
‘that he was one of the six appointed to make the examination
Stricter, and that they were determined this would make it a
very different thing from any previous examination, that from
all this am sure it will be the very devil to pay amongst all
idle men and entomologists. Erasmus, we expect home in a
few weeks’ time : he Intends passing next winter in Paris. Be
‘sure you order the two lists of insects published by Stephens,
‘one printed on both sides, and the other only on one; you
will find them very useful in many points of view.
Dear old Fox, yours,
C, Darwin.
C, Darwin to WD. Fox,
Christ's College, Thurstay [October 16, 1839}
My pear Fox,
Tam afraid you will be very angry with me for not having
written during the Music Mecting, but really T was worked
so hard that Thad no time; T arrived here on Monday and
found my rooms in dreadful confusion, as they have been
taking up the floor, and you may suppose that I have had
plenty to do for these two days, ‘The Music Meeting was
the most glorious thing T ever experienced ; and as for Mali«
bean, words cannot praixe her enough, she is quite the most
charming person T ever sam, We had extracts out of several
fof the best operas, acted in character, and you eannot imagine
hhow very superior it made the concerts to any T ever heard
before. J. de Begnis + acted ‘Il Fanatico' in character ; be-
1 Gog dressed up an extraordinary figure gives a much greater
© effect to his acting, He kept the whole theatre in goars of
| Aaughter, I liked Madame Blasis very much, but nothing
| ‘will do after Malibran, who sung some comic songs, and [a]
heart must have been made of stone not to have lost
ittto her, I lodged very near the Wedgwoods, and lived
i entirely with them, which was very pleasant, and had you
FALBinningban —_+ De Begnis’s Christian name was Giuseppe.
ee
156 CAMBRIDGE. .ETAT. 19-22 [xty0.
been there it would have been quite perfect, It knocked me
up most dreadfully, and I will never attempt again to de two
things the same day.
* : . . .
C. Darwin lo W,.D, Fox,
{Cambeidge} Thursday [March 1890].
My peak Fox,
Tam through my Little-Go!!1 I am too much exalted to
humble myself by apologising for not having written before.
But I assure you before I went in, and when my nerves were
in a shattered and weak condition, your injured person often
rose before my eyes and taunted me with my idleness. But I
am through, through, through, I eould write the whole sheet
full with this delightful word. I went in yesterday, and have
just heard the joyful news. 1 shall not know for a week
which class Iam in, ‘The whole examination is carried on in
a different system. It has one grand advantage—being over
in one day. They are rather strict, and ask # wonderful
number of questions.
And now I want to know something about your plans; of
eourse you intend coming up here: what fun we will have
together; what beetles we will catch; it will do my heart
good to go once more together to some of our old haunts. I
have two very promising pupils in Entomology, and we will
) J make regular campaigns into the Fens. Heaven protect the
+ | beetles and Mr, Jenyns, for we won't leave him a pair in the
whole country. My new Cabinet is come down, and a gay
“Tittle affair it is,
And now for the time—I think 1 shall go for a few days
to town to hear an opera and see Mr. Hope; not to mention
my brother also, whom I should have no objection to see.
If I go pretty soon, you can come afterwards, but if you
settle your plans definitely, I will arrange mine, so send me a
letter by return of post. And I charge you let it be favour-
able—that is to say, come directly, Holden has been or-
dained, and drove the Coach out on the Monday. I do not
BEETLE COLLECTING.
think he is looking very well. Chapman wants you and
myself to pay him a visit when you come up, and begs to be
remembered to you, You must excuse this short letter, as I
have no end more to send off by this day’s post. 1 long to
‘see you again, and till then,
My dear good old Fox,
Yours most sincerely,
C. Danwin.
[in August he was in North Wales and wrote to Fox s—
"I have been intending to write every hour for the last
fortnight, but realy have had no time. I left Shrewsbury this
day fortnight ago, and have since that time been working
from morning to night in catching fish or beetles. This is
literally the first idle day I have had to myself; for on the
rainy days 1 go fishing, on the good ones entomologising.
‘You may recollect that for the fortnight previous to all this,
you told me not to write, so that I hope 1 have made out
some sort of defence for not having sooner answered your
‘two long and very agreeable letters.""]
C. Darwin te W. D. Fox,
{Cambridge, November 5, 1830.)
My omar Fox,
T have so little time at present, and am so disgusted by
reading that I have not the heart to write to anybody.
\ have only written once home since { came up, This must
‘excuse me for not having answered your three letters, for
which Lam really very much obliged. . . .
Thave not stuck an insect this term, and scarcely opened
case. IFT had time I would have sent you the insects which
Thave so long promised; tut really Ihave not spirits or time
to do anything. Reading makes me quite desperate; the
plague of getting up all my subjects is next thing to intoler-
able. Henslow is my tutor, and a most admirable one he
makes; the hour with him is the pleasantest in the whole day.
a
158 CAMBRIDGE, ATAT, 10-42, [r83r.
I think he is quite the most perfect man I ever met with. T
have been to some very pleasant partigs there this term, His
good-nature is unbounded.
T am sure you will be sorry to hear poor old Whitley's
father is dead. In a worldly paint of view it is of great con
sequence to him, as it will prevent him going to the Bar for
some time—(Be sure answer this :) What did you pay for the
iron hoop you had made in Shrewsbury? Because I do not
mean o pay the whole of the Cambridge man’s bill, You
need not trouble yourself about the Phallus, as 1 have bought
up both species. { have heard men say that Henslow has
some curious religious opinions. I never perceived anything
of it, have you? I am very glad to hear, after all your delays,
you have heard of a curacy where you may read all the com-
mandments without endangering your throat, I am also still
more glad to hear that your mother continues steadily to
improve. I do trust that you will have no further cause for
uneasiness. With every wish for your happiness, my dear
old Fox,
Believe me yours most sincerely,
Cuarias DARWIN,
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
Cambridge, Sunday, January 23, 1651.
My pear Fox,
Ido hope you will excuse my not writing before I took
my degree, T felt a quite inexplicable aversion to write
to anybody. But now I do most heartily congratulate you
upon passing your examination, and hope you find your
curacy cofnfortable. If it is my last shilling (11 have not
many), I will come and pay you a visit.
I do not know why the degree should make one so
miserable, both before and afterwards I recollect you were
sufficiently wretched before, and I can assure [you] I am now,
and what makes it the more ridiculous is, I know not what
about, I believe it is a beautiful provision of nature to make
one regret the less leaving so pleasant a place as Cambridge ;
159
and amongst all its pleasures—I say it for once and for all—
‘none so great as my friendship with you. I sent you a news-
yesterday, in which you will see what a good place
roth] U have got in the Poll. As for Christ's, did you ever
see such a college for producing Captains and Apostles? *
‘There are no men either at Emmanuel or Christ's plucked.
‘Cameron is gulfed, together with other three Trinity scholars!
‘My plans are not at all settled. 1 think I shall keep this term,
and then go and cconomise at Shrewsbury, return and take
my degree,
A man may be excused for writing so much about himself
when he has just passed the examination; s0 you must excuse
[me]. And on the same principle do you write a letter
brimfal of yourself and plans, I want to know something
‘about your examination. ‘Tell me about the state of your
‘nerves; what books you got up, and how perfect. I take an
interest about that sort of thing, as the time will come when
T must suffer, Your tutor, Thompson, begged to be remem-
Dered to you, and so does Whitley. If you will answer this,
T will send as many stupid answers as you can desire.
Believe me, dear Fox,
Cuas, DARWIN.
+ The “Captain ie at the head of the “ Poll: the * Apostles" ane
‘the last twelve fa the Mathewatical Trivos.
CHAPTER V.
THE APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘ BEAGLE.”
[lw a letter addressed to Captain Fitz-Roy, before the
Beagle sailed, my father wrote, “What a glorious day the
4th of November * will be to. me—tmy second life will then
commence, and it shall be as a birthday for the rest of my
life.”
‘The circumstances which led to this second birth—so
fuch more important than my father then imagined—are con-
nected with his Cambridge Iife, but may be more appropri-
ately told in the present chapter, Foremost in the chain of
circumstances which led to his appointment to the Benge,
was my father’s friendship with Professor Henslow. He
wrote in & pocket-book or diary, which contain a brief record
of dates, &c., throughout his life —
“4833. Chréttmar—Passed my examination for B, A. de-
gree and kept the two following terms.
“During these months lived much with Professor Hens-
low, often dining with him and walking with him ; became
slightly acquainted with several of the learned men in Cam-
bridge, which much quickened the zeal which dinner parties
and hunting had not destroyed.
“In the spring paid Mr, Dawes a visit with Ramsay and
Kirby, and talked over an excursion to Teneriffe. In the
* The Ararty did not however make her final and successful start until
December 27.
THE BEAGLE LAID ASHORE, RIVER SANTA CRUE
Mi
HENSLOW. 161
spring Henslow persuaded me to think of Geology, and intro-
duced me to Sedgwick. During Midsummer geologised a
little in Shropshire.
“August—Went on Geological tour* by Llangollen,
Ruthin, Conway, Bangor, and Capel Curig, where I left Pro
fessor Sedgwick, and crossed the mountain to Barmouth,”
Tn a letter to Fox (May, 183), my father writes :—"T am
very busy . . . and sce a great deal of Henslow, whom I do
{mot know whether I love or respect most." His feeling for
this admirable man is finely expressed ina letter which he
wrote to Rev. L, Blomefield (then Rev. L. Jenyns), when the
fatter was engaged in his ‘Memoir of Professor Henslow"
(published 1862). The passage + has been made use of in the
first of the memorial notices written for ‘Nature,’ and Mr,
Romanes points out that my father, “while describing the
character of another, is unconsciously giving a most accurate
description of his own” -—
“T went to Cambridge carly in the year #828, and soon
became acquainted, through some of my brother entomolo-
gists, with Professor Henslow, for all who cared. for any
branch of natural history were equally encouraged by him.
Nothing could be more simple, cordial, and unpretending
than the encouragement which he afforded to all young
naturalists. I soon became intimate with him, for he had a
remarkable power of making the young feel completely at ease
with him ; though we were all awe-struck with the amount of
his knowledge. Before I saw him, I heard one young man
Sem up his attaintments by simply saying that he knew every-
thing, When I reflect how immediately we felt at perfect ease
with m man older, and in every way so immensely our superior,
T think it was as much owing to the transparent sincerity of
* Sentioned by Sedgwick in his preface to Salter’s ‘Catalogue of Came
‘brian and Silurian Fossils,” 1873.
F*Memoir of the Rey. Joln Stevens Heuslow, M.A," by the Rex,
Lernard Jenynu Seo. London, 1862, p. st,
a
162 APPOINTMENT TO THE “BEAGLE! ASTAT, 22.
his character as to his kindness of heart; and, perhaps, even
still more, to a highly remarkable absence in him of all self-
conscionsness. One perceived at once that he never thought
of his own varied knowledge or clear intellect, but solely on
the subject in hand. Another charm, which must have struck
every ong, was that his manner to old and distinguished
persons and to the youngest student was exactly the same:
and to all he showed the same winning courtesy, He would
receive with interest the most trifling observation in any
‘branch of natural history ; and hawever absurd a blunder one
might make, he pointed it out so clearly and kindly, that one
Jeft him no way disheartened, but only determined to be
more accurate the next time. In short, no man could be
better formed to win the entire confidence of the young, and
to encourage them in their pursuits.
“His lectures on Botany were universally popular, and as
clear as daylight. So popular were they, that several of the
older members of the University attended successive courses.
Once every week he kept open house in the evening, and all
who cared for natural history attended these parties, which,
by thus favouring inter-communication, did the same good in
Cambridge, in a very pleasabt manner, as the Scientific So-
cicties do in London, At these parties many of the most
distinguished members of the University occasionally attend:
ed; and when only a few were present, I have listened to
the great men of those days, conversing on all sorts of sub-
jects, with the most varied and brilliant powers. This was
no amall advantage to some of the younger men, as it stimu-
Jated their mental activity and ambition, Two or three times
in each session he took excursions with his botanical class;
either a long walk to the habitat of some rare plant, or ina
barge down the river to the fens, or in coaches to some
more distant place, as to Gamlingay, to see the wild lily of
the valley, and to catch on the heath the rare natter-jack.
‘These excursions have left a delightful impression on my
mind. He was, on such occasions, in as good
boy, and laughed as heartily asa boy at the misadventures
HENSLOW. 163
‘of those who chased the splendid swallow-tail butterflies
across the broken and treacherous fens. He used to pause
‘every now and then to lecture on some plant or other objec
and something he could tell us on every insect, shell, or fossil
collected, for he had attended to every branch of natural
history. After our day's work we used to dine at some
inn or house, and most jovial we then were, I believe
all who joined these excursions will agree with me that
they have left an enduring impression of delight on our
minds,
“As time passed on at Cambridge T became very inti- ”
mate with Professor Henslow, and his kindness was un-
bounded ; he continually asked me to his house, and allowed
me to accompany him in his walks, He talked on all sub»
jects, including his deep sense of religion, and was entirely
open. I owe more than I can express to this excellent
“During the years when T associated so much with Pro-
fessor Henslow, I never once saw his temper even ruffled.
He never took an ill-natured view of any one’s character,
though very far from blind to the foibles of others. It always
Strick me that his mind could not be even touched by any
paltry feeling of vanity, envy, or jealousy. With all this
equability of temper and remarkable benevolence, there was
no insipidity of character. A man must have been blind not
to have perceived that beneath this placid exterior there was
a vigorous and determined will. Whea principle came into
play, no power on earth could have turned him one hair’s-
breadth, .. .
" Reflecting over his character with gratitude and rever-
ence, his moral attributes rise, as they should do in the
highest character, in pre-eminence over his intellect.
Tn a letter to Rev, L. Blomefield (Jenyns), May 24, 1862,
my father wrote with the same feclings that he had expressed
in his letters thirty years before -—
“Tehank you most sincerely for your kind present of your
Memoir of Henslow. 1 have read about half, and it has
164 APPOINTMENT TO THE “BEAGLE.” 2:TAT, 22,
interested me much. I did not think that I could have
venerated him more than I did; but your book has even
exalted his character in my eyes From turning over the
pages of the latter half, should think your account would
be invaluable ta any clergyman who wished to follow poor
dear Henslow’s noble example. What an admirable man he
was.”
‘The geological work mentioned in the quotation from my
father's pocket-book was doubtless of importance as giving
him some practical experience, and perhaps of more impor-
tance in helping to give him some confidence in himself. In
July of the samo year, 1834, he was “working like a tiger”
at Geology, and trying to make a map of Shropshire, but not
finding it “as easy as I expected."
In writing to Henslow about the same time, he gives some
account of his work —
“T should have written to you some time ago, only I was
determined to wait for the clinometer, and Tam very glad to
say I think it will answer admirably. I put all the tables in
my bedroom at every conceivable angle and direction. T will
venture to say I haye measured them as accurately as any
geologist going could do... . 1 have been working at so
many things that I have not got on much with geology. I
suspect the first expedition I take, clinometer and hammer in
hand, will send me back very little wiser and a good deal
more puzzled than when I started. As yet I have only in-
dulged in hypotheses, but they are such powerful ones that
I suppose, if they were put into action for but one day, the
world would come to an end,”
He was evidently most keen to get to work with Sedgwick,
for he wrote to Henslow ; “I have not heard from Professor
Sedgwick, so I am afraid he will not pay the Severn forma-
tions a visit, I hope and trust you did your best to urge
him.”
My father has given in his Recollections some account of
this Tour.
‘There too we read of the projected excursion to the Ca-
THE OFFER, 165
aries, of which slight mention occurs in letters to Fox and
In April 1831 he writes to Fox: “At present I talk,
think, and dream of a scheme I have almost hatched of going
to the Canary Islands. I have long had a wish of seeing
tropical scenery and vegetation, and, according to Humboldt,
‘Teneriffe is a very pretty specimen.” And again in May:
* As for my Canary scheme, it is rash of you to ask questions :
my other friends most sincerely wish me there, I plague them
#0 with talking about tropical scenery, &c, Eyton will go
next summer, and I am learning Spanish.”
Later on in the summer the scheme took more definite
form, and the date seems to have been fixed for June, 1832.
He got information in London about passage-money, and in
July was working at Spanish and calling Fox “un grandisimo
lebron,” in proof of his knowledge of the language; which,
however, he found “intensely stupid.” But even then he
seems to have tad some doubts about his companions’ zeal,
for he writes to Henslow (July 27, 831); “1 hope you con=
tinue to fan your Canary ardour. I read and re-read Hum-
Doldt ; do you do the same? I am sure nothing will prevent
us seeing the Great Dragon Tree,”
Geological work and Teneriffe dreams carried him through
the summer, till on returning from Barmouth for the sacred
rst of September, he received the offer of appointment as
Naturalist to the Beagle.
‘The following extract from the pocket-book will be a help
in reading the letters ;-—
“Retumed to Shrewsbury at end of August. Refused
offer of voyage.
“ September,—Went to Maer, returned with Uncle Jos. to
Shrewsbury, thence to Cambridge. London.
“ r1th—Went with Captain Fitz-Roy in steamer to Plym-
‘outh to see the Beagle.
“aand—Returned to Shrewsbury, passing through Cam:
bridge.
166 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE! ATAT. a2. [1ép1.
“October amé—Vook leave of my home, Stayed in
London.
“ aqth—Reached Plymouth.
“ October and November —These months very miserable.
“ December roth —Sailed, but were obliged to put back,
“ aut-—Put to sea again, and were driven back.
“ a7/h—Sailed from England on our Circumnavigation,
George Peacoch® to J. S. Henslow.
7 Suffolk Street, Pall Mall Bast,
(u8s1.)
My prax Hexstow,
Captain Fite-Roy is going out to survey the southern
coast of Tierra del Fuego, and afterwards to visit many of
the South Sea Islands, and to return by the Indian Archi-
pelago. ‘The vessel is fitted out expressly for scientific pur-
poses, combined with the survey ; it will furnish, therefore, a
rare opportunity for a naturalist, and it would be a great mis=
fortune that it should be lost
An offer has been made to me to recommend a proper
person to go out as a naturalist with this expedition; he will
be treated with every consideration, ‘The Captain is a young
moan of very pleasing manners (a nephew of the Duke of
Grafton), of great zeal in his profession, and who is very
highly spoken of; if Leonard Jenyns could go, what treasures
he might bring home with him, as the ship would be placed
at his disposal whenever his inquiries made it necessary or
desirable. In the absence of so accomplished a naturalist, is
there any person whom you could strongly recommend? he
must be such a person as would do credit to our recommenda
tion, Do think of this subject, it would be a serious loss to
the cause of natural science if this fine opportunity was lost.
. . . . .
* Formerly Dean of Ely, and Lowndean Professor of Astronomy at
Cambridge,
‘The ship sails about the end of September.
‘Write immediately, and tell me what can be done.
Believe me,
My dear Henslow,
‘Most truly yours,
Grocer Peacock,
J. S. Hinslow to C. Darwin,
Cambridge, August 24, 2891,
My pear Darwin,
Before I enter upon the immediate business of this letter,
Jet us condole together upon the loss of our inestimable friend
poor Ramsay, of whose death you have undoubtedly heard
long before this,
T will not now dwell upon this painful subject, as I shall
hape to see you shortly, fully expecting that you will eagerly
cateh at the offer which is likely to be made you of a trip to
‘Tierra del Fuego, and home by the East Indies. Ihave been
asked by Peacock, who will read and forward this to you from
London, to recommend him a Naturalist as companion to
Captain Fitz-Roy, employed by Government to survey the
southern extremity of America. I have stated that I consider
‘you to be the best qualified person I know of who is likely to
‘undertake such & situation, I state this not in the supposi-
tion of your being a fimished naturalist, but as amply qualified
for collecting, observing, and noting, anything worthy to be
noted in Natural History. Peacock has the appointment at
his disposal, and if he cannot find a man willing to take the
office, the opportunity will probably be lost. Captain Fitz-
Roy wants a man (I understand) more as a companion than
‘a mete collector, and would not take any one, however good
a naturalist, who was not recommended to him likewise as a
gentleman, Particulars of salary, &c., I know nothing. ‘The
voyage is to last two years, and if you take plenty of books
‘with you, anything you please may be done, You will have
‘ample opportunities at command. In short, I suppose there
li }
+
168 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE,’ TAT, 22. [r8yt.
never was a finer chance for a man of zeal and spirit; Cap-
tain Fite-Roy is a young man, What I wish you to do is in-
stantly to come and consult with Peacock (at No. 7 Suffolk
Street, Pall Mall Bast, or else at the University Club), and
learn further particulars. Don’t put on any modest doubts
or fears about your disqualifications, for I assure you I think
you ate the very man they are in search of; 80 conceive yours
self to be tapped on the shoulder by your bum-bailiff and
affectionate friend,
J. 8, Hexstow.
‘The expedition is to sail on ath September (at earliest),
so there is no time to be lost.
G. Peacock to C. Darwin.
{x831)
My rar Str,
T received Henslow's letter last night too late to forward
it to you by the post; a circumstance which I do not regret,
ag it bas given me an opportunity of seeing Captain Beaufort
at the Admiralty (the Hydrographer), and of stating to him
the offer which I have to make to you, He entirely approves
of it, and you may consider the situation as at your absolute
disposal. T trust that you will accept it, as it is an opportur
nity which should not be lost, and I look forward with great
interest to the benefit which our collections of Natural His-
tory may receive from your labors.
‘The circumstances are these j=—
Captain Fitz-Roy (a nephew of the Duke of Grafton) sails
at the end of September, in a ship to survey, in the first ine
stance, the South Coast of Tierra del Fuego, afterwards to
visit the South Sea Islands, and to return by the Indian
Archipelago to England. The expedition is entirely for sci-
entific purposes, and the ship will generally wait your leisure
for researches in Natural History, &c. Captain Fitz-Roy is a
public-spirited and zealous officer, of delightful manners, and
greatly beloved by all his brother officers. He went with
‘THE OFFER REFUSED.
369
Captain Beechey,” and spent £1500 in bringing over and
‘educating at his own charge three natives of Patagonia, He
‘engages at his own expense an artist at £200 a year to go
with him. You may be sure, therefore, of having a very
pleasant companion, who will enter heartily into all your
views,
‘The ship sails about the end of September, and you must
Tose no time in making known your acceptance to Captain
Beaufort, Admiralty Hydrographer. 1 have had a good deal
of correspondence about this matter [with Henslow?], who
feels, in common with myself, the greatest anxiety that you
should go, Thope that no other arrangements are likely to
interfere with it, = *
‘The Admiralty are not disposed to give a salary, though
they will furnish you with an official appointment, and every
accommodation. If n salary should be required, however, I
am inclined to think that it would be granted.
Believe me, my dear Sir,
Very truly yours,
Grorce Pxacoce.
©, Darwin to J, S. Henslow,
Slavwrbury, Tuesday [Angust 307, 1831].
My prax Six,
Mr, Peacock’s letter arrived on Saturday, and I received
it late yesterday evening. As far as my own mind is con:
cerned, I should, I think cerfernly, most gladly have accepted
the opportunity which you so kindly have offered me. But
my father, although he does not decidedly refuse me, gives
such strong advice against going, that T should nor be com-
fortable if I did not follow it
My father’s objections are these
For ‘Hieechey” res * King.’ 1 do not Gnd the name Fits-Roy in the
at of Beechey’s officers, The Puegians were brought back from Captain
King’s voyoge.
@
the unfitting me to
, a
170 APPOINTMENT TO THE “BEAGLE” TAT. 22. [r8gt.
settle down as a Clergyman, my little habit of seafaring, she
shortness of the time, and the chance of my not suiting Captain
Fitz-Roy, It is certainly a very serious objection, the very
short time for all my preparations, as not only body but mind
wants making up for such an undertaking, Bur if it had not
been for my father I would have taken all risks, What was
the reason that a Naturalist was not long ago fixed upon? I
am very much obliged for the trouble you have had about it;
there certainly could not have been a better opportunity.
. . . . .
My trip with Sedgwick answered most perfectly. I did
not hear of poor Mr. Ramsay's loss till a few days before
your letter, Ihave been lucky hitherto in never losing any
person for whom I had any esteem or affection. My ac-
quaintance, although very short, was sufficient to give me
those feelings in a great degree. I can hardly make myself
believe he is no more, He was the finest character I ever
knew.
Yours most sincerely,
My dear Sir,
Cu. Darwin.
T have written to Mr. Peacock, and T mentioned that T
have asked you to send one line in the chance of his not
getting my letter, 1 have also asked him to communicate
with Captain FitesRoy. Even if I was to'go, my father dis-
liking would take away all eneegy, and T should want a good
stock of that. Again I must thank you, it adds a Wttle to the
heavy but pleasant load of gratitude which I owe to you.
C Darwin w R. W. Darwin.
[Mace] August ge, fr89¢}
My pear Farner,
Tam afraid Tam going to make you again very uncome
fortable. Rut, upon consideration, T think you will excuse
me once again, stating my opinions on the offer of the
‘MR. DARWIN'S OBJECTIONS. tr
voyage, My excuse and reason is the different way all
the Wedgwoods view the subject from what you and my
sisters do.
T have given Uncle Jos* what I fervently trust is an
accurate and full list of your objections, and he is kind enough
tw give his opinions on all, ‘Phe list and his answers will be
enclosed. But may 1 beg of you one favour, it will be doing
‘me the greatest kindness, if you will send me a decided
‘answer, yes or no? If the latter, I should be most ungrateful
i€T did not implicitly yield to your better judgment, and to
the kindest indulgence you have shown me all through my
Jife; and you may rely upon it I will never mention the sub-
ject again, If your answer should be yes; I will go directly
to Henslow and consult deliberately with him, and then come
to Shrewsbury,
‘The danger appears to me and all the Wedgwoods not
‘The expense cannot be serious, and the time T do
not think, anyhow, would be more thrown away than if T
stayed at home, But pray do not consider that I am so bent
on going that I would for one single moment hesitate, if you
thought that after a short period you should continue un-
comfortable,
1 must again state T cannot think it would unfit me here-
after for a steady life. Ido hope this letter will not give you
fiuch uneasiness. Isend it by the car to-marrow morning:
#f you make up your mind directly will you send mean answer
on the following day by the sarae means? If this letter should
Rot find you at home, I hope you will answer as soan as you
conveniently can.
Tdo not know what to say about Uncle Jos’ kindness; T
‘never can forget how he interests himself about me.
Believe me, my dear father,
Your affectionate son,
Cuagies Darwin,
* Josiah Wedgwood.
172 APPOINTMENT TO THE *BEAGLE” ACTAT. a2. [1831
[Here follows the list of objections which are referred to
in the following letter —
(1) Disreputable to my character as a Clergyman here-
after.
(2.) A wild scheme.
(3.) That they must have offered ta many others before
me the place of Naturalist.
(4.) And from its not being accepted there must be some
serious objection to the vessel or expedition,
(5.) ‘That 1 should never settle down to a steady life here-
after.
(6.) That my accommodations would be most uncomfort=
able,
(7.) That you [%¢, Dr. Darwin] should consider it as again
changing my profession.
(8.) That it would be a useless undertaking.)
Josiah Wedgwood to RW. Darwin.
‘Maer, August 31, 183%.
(Read this last.) *
My prax Doctor,
1 feel the responsibility of your application to me on the
offer that has been made to Charles as being weighty, but as
you have desired Charles ta consult me, I cannot refuse to
five the result of such consideration as I have been able to
[give 2] it.
Charles has put down what he conceives to be your prin-
cipal objections, and I think the best courve I can take will
be to state what oceurs to me upon each of them,
1. Tshould not think that it would be in any degree dis-
reputable to his character as a Clergyman, 1 should on the
contrary think the offer honourable to him ; and the pursuit of
Natural History, though certainly not professional, is very
suitable to a clergyman.
2. I hardly know how to meet this objection, but he would
* In C. Darwin's writing.
JOSIAH WEDGWOOD'S ADVICE. 173
‘have definite objects upon which to employ himself, and might
‘acquire and strengthen habits of application, and I should think
would be as likely to do so as in any way in which he is likely
‘to pass the next two years at home,
3, The notion did not occur to me in reading the letters ;
and on reading them again with that object in my mind I sce
no ground for it.
4. I cannot conceive that the Admiralty would send out
‘a bail vessel on such a service, As to objections to the expe-
‘dition, they will differ in each man’s case, and nothing would,
T think, be inferred in Charles's case, if it were known that
others had objected,
5. You are a much better judge of Charles's character
than Ican be. If on comparing this mode of spending the
‘ext two years with the way in which he will probably spend
them, if he does not accept this offer, you think him more
ikely to be rendered unsteady and unable to settle, it is
undoubtedly a weighty objection. Is it not the case that
‘sailors are prone to settle in domestic and quiet habits ?
6. Tecan form no opinion on this further than that if ap-
pointed by the Admiralty he will have claim to be as well
accommodated as the vessel will allow,
| 7- If 1 saw Charles now absorbed in professional studies
Tshould probably think it would not be advisable to interrupt
them ; but this is not, and, I think, will not be the case with
him, His present pursuit of knowledge is in the same track
‘as he would have to follow in the expedition,
& The undertaking would be useless as regards his pro-
fession, but looking upon him as aman of enlarged curiosity,
it affords him such an opportunity of secing men and things
as happens to few.
‘You will bear in mind that I have had very tittle time
for consideration, and that you and Charles are the persons
who must decide. Tam,
My dear Doctor,
Affectionately yours,
Joan Wenewoon.
a
174 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLES A@TAT. 22. [3891
C. Darwin to f-S, Henslow.
Cambridge, Red Lion (Sept. a), r83r.
My prar Sin,
I am just arrived; you will guess the reason. My
father has changed his mind, I trust the place is not given
away.
Tam very much fatigued, and am going ta bed.
I dare way you have not yet got my second letter.
How soon shall I come to you in the morning? Send
a verbal answer,
Good-night,
Yours,
C Danwm,
©. Darwin te Miss Susan Darwin.
Cambridge, Sunday Morning [September 4}.
My pear Susan,
As a letter would not have gone yesterday, I put off
writing till to-day. I had rather a wearisome journey, but
got into Cambridge very fresh, The whole of yesterday
T spent with Henslow, thinking of what is to be done, and
that T find isa geeat deal. By great good luck I know a man
of the name of Wood, nephew of Lord Londonderry. He is
agreat friend of Captain Fitz-Roy, and has written to him
about me, I heard a part of Captain Fitz-Roy’s letter, dated
some time ago, in which he says: “I have a right good set of
oillicers, and most of my men have beca there before.” It
seems he has been there for the last few years; he was then
second in command with the game vessel that he has now
chosen. He is only twenty-three years old, but [has] seen a
deal of service, and won the gold medal at Portsmouth. The
Admiralty say his maps are most perfect, He had choice of
two vessels, and he chose the smallest. Henslow will give
me letters to all travellers in town whom he thinks may
assist mes
Peacock has sole appointment of Naturalist. ‘The first
CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY, 178
person offered was Leonard Jenyns, who was so near accept-
ing it that he packed up his clothes, But having [a] living,
he did not think it right to leave it—to the great regret of
all his family. Henslow himself was not very far from accept
ing it, for Mrs. Henslow most generously, and without being
asked, gave her consent; but she looked so miserable that
Henslow at once settled the point,
. * * . .
Tam afraid there will be a good deal of expense at first,
Henslow is much against taking many things; it is [the]
mistake all young travellers fall into, [write as if it was
settled, but Henslow tells me dy ao means to. make up my
mind till I have had long conversations with Captains Beau
fort and Fitz-Roy. Good-bye. You will hear from me con-
stantly. Direct 17 Spring Gardens. el? nobody in Shrop-
whire yet. Be sure not.
C. Darwi,
I was so tired that evening T was in Shrewsbury that
T thanked none of you for your kindness half so much as
T felt.
Love to my father,
‘The reason I don’t want people told in Shropshire: in
‘ease I should not go, it will make it more flat.
C. Darwin ta Miss S. Darutin,
15 Spring Gardens, Monday
[September 5, 7831}
Thave so little time to spare that I have none to waste in
e-writing letters, so that you must excuse my bringing up the
other with me and altering it. The last letter was written in
the morning. Jn [the] middle of [the] day, Wood received
Mletter from Captain Fitz-Roy, which I must say was most
Straightforward and gendlewanéthe, but so much against my
going, that I immediately gave up the scheme ; and Henslow
did the same, saying that he thought Peacock had acted very
wrong in misrepresenting things so much.
176 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE! “ETAT. 22. [1891
Tsearcely thought of going to town, but here Iam; and
now for more details, and much more promising ones. Cap-
tain Fitz-Roy is [in] town, and I have seen him; it is no use
attempting to praise him as much as I feel inclined to do, for
you would not believe me, One thing Iam certain, nothing
could be more open and kind than he was tome. It seems
he had promised to take a friend with him, who is in office
and cannot go, and he only received the letter five minutes
before I came in; and this makes things much better for me,
a5 want of room was one of Fitz-Roy’s greatest objections,
He offers me to go share in everything in his cabin if I like to
come, and every sort of accommodation that T can have, but
they will not be numerous, He says nothing would be so
miserable for him as having me with him if 1 was uncom+
fortable, as in 4 small vessel we must be thrown together,
and thought it his duty to state everything in the worst point
‘of view, I think I shall goon Sunday to Plymouth to see the
vessel.
‘There is something most extremely attractive in his mans
ners and way of coming straight to the point. If I live with
him, he says 1 must live poorly—no wine, and the plainest
dinners. The scheme is not certainly so good as Peacock
describes. Captain Fitz-Roy advises me not [to] make up
my mind quite yet, but that, seriously, he thinks it will have
much more pleasure than pain for me. ‘The vessel does not
sail till the roth of October, It contains sixty men, five or
six officers, &c., but is a sunall vessel. It will probably be out
nearly three years, T shall pay to the mess the same as [the]
Captain docs himself, £30 per annum ; and Fitz-Roy says if
T spend, including my outfitting, £500, it will be beyond the
extrem But now for still worse news. The round the
world is not cerfarm, but the chance most excellent. Till that
point is decided, I will not be so, And you may believe,
after the many changes T have made, that nothing bat my
reason shall decide me.
Fitz-Roy says the stormy ses is exaggerated ; that if I do
not choose to remain with them, I can at any time get home
CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY. 177
to England, so many vessels sail that way, and that doring bad
weather (probably two months), if T like I shall be left in some
healthy, safe and nice country; that I shall always have assist-
ance; that he has many books, all instruments, guns, at my
service; that the fewer and cheaper clothes 1 take the better,
‘Phe manner of proceeding will just suit me. ‘hey anchor the
ship, and then remain fora fortnight at a place. Thave made
Captain Beaufort perfectly understand me, He says if I start
and do not go round the world, E shall have good reason to
think myself deceived. I am to call the day after to-morrow,
and, if possible, to receive more certain instructions. The
want of room is decidedly the most serious objection; but
Captain Fitz-Roy (probably owing to Wood's letter) seems
determined to make me [us] comfortable as he possibly ean.
T fike his manner of proceeding. He asked me at once,
“Shall you bear being told that I want the cabin to mysclf
—when I want to be alone? If we treat each other this
way, 1 hope we shall suit; if not, probably we should wish
each other at the devil.
We stop a week at [the] Madeira Islands, and shall see
‘most of [the] big citles in South America, Captain Beaufort
is drawing up the track through the South Sea. 1 am writ-
ing in [a] great hurry; I do not know whether you take inter-
‘est enough to excuse treble postage. I hope I am judging
reasonably, and not through prejudice, about Captain Fitz-
Roy; if-so, Iam sure we shall suit. I dine with him to-day,
Teould write [a] great deal more if T thought you liked it,
and Thad at present time, ‘There is indeed a tide in the
affairs of man, and I have experienced it, and I had entirely
given it up till one to-day.
Love to my father. Dearest Susan, good-bye,
Cx. Darwin.
178 ALPOINTMENT TO TUE ‘BEAGLES ASTAT. 22. [183%
C. Darwin to J. S, Hensiow,
London, Monday, [Septewber s, 1851].
My beax Sin,
Gloria in excelsis is the most moderate beginning 1 can
think of, ‘Things are more prosperous than I should have
thought possible. Captain Fitz-Roy is everything that is
delightful, If 1 was to praise half so much as [ feel ine
clined, you would say it was absurd, only once seeing him, 1
think he really wishes to have me, He offers me to mess with
him, and he will take care I haye such room as is possible.
But about the cases he says F must limit myself; but then he
thinks like a sailor about size. Captain Beaufort says I shall
be upon the Boards, and then it will only cost me like other
officers. Ship sails roth of October. Spends a week at
Madeira Islands; and then Rio de Janeiro, ‘They all think
most extremely probable, home by the Indian arehipelago;
but till that is decided, I will not be so
What has induced Captain Fitz-Roy to take a better
view of the case is, that Mr. Chester, who was going as a
friend, cannot go, so that 1 shall have his place in every re-
spect,
Captain Fits-Roy has [a] good stock of books, many of
which were in my list, and rifles, &c, so that the outfit will
be much less expensive than I supposed.
‘The vessel will be out three years. I do not object so
that my father does not. On Wednesday I have another
interview with Captain Beaufort, and on Sunday most likely
go with Captain Fitz-Roy to Plymouth, So I hope you will
keep on thinking on the subject, and just keep memoranda
of what may strike you. I will call most probably on Mr.
Burchell and introduce myself, Tam in lodgings at 17 Spring
dens, You cannot imagine anything more pleasant, kind,
and open than Captain Fitz-Roy’s manners were to me, I
am sure it will be my fault if we do not suit
What changes E have had. Till one to-day I was building
-38g1.) W. D. FOX, 179
castles in the air about hunting foxes in Shropshire, now
Mamas in South America.
There is indeed a tide in the affairs of men, If you sce
Mr. Wood, remember me very kindly to hie,
Good-bye
My dear Henslow,
Your most sincere friend,
Cuas, Danwix.
Excuse this letter in such a hurry,
©. Darwin to W.D. Fox.
17 Spring Gardens, London,
September 6, 1831.
. . ~ . .
Your letter gave me great pleasure. You cannot imagine
how much your former letter annoyed and hurt me.* But,
thank heaven, I firmly believe that it was my own entire fault
iin so interpreting your letter. I lost a friend the other day,
and I doubt whether the moral death (as I then wickedly
supposed) of our friendship did not grieve me as much as the
real and sudden death of poor Ramsay. We have known
each other too long to need, I trust, any more explanations,
But 1 will mention just one thing—that on my death-bed, L
think 1 could say I never uttered one insincere (which at
the time I did not fully feel) expression about my regard for
you, On thing more—the sending smmertiately the inscets,
‘on my honour, was an unfortunate coincidence. 1 forgot how
you naturally would take them, When you Took at them
now, I hope no unkindly feelings will rise in your mind, and
that you will believe that you have always had in me a
Sincere, and I will add, an obliged friend. The very many
pleasant minutes that we spent together in Cambridge rose
Vike departed spirits in judgment against me, May we have
* He had misunderstood a letter of Fox’s as implying a charge of false«
i
180 APPOINTMENT TO THE "BEAGLE! ASTAT, 22. [1631
many more such, will be one of my last wishes in leaving
England. God bless you, dear old Fox. May you always
be happy.
Yours truly,
Cas. Darwin,
T have left your letter behind, so do not know whether [
direct right.
C Darwin tw Miss Susan Darvoin,
17 Spring Gardens, Tuesday,
[September 6, 1832]
My prar Susan,
Again I am going to trouble you. I suspect, if I keep
fon at this rate, you will sincerely wish me at Tierra del
Fuego, ot any other Terra, but England, First 1 will give
my commissions, ‘Tell Nancy to make me some twelve
instead of eight shirts, ‘Tell Edward to send me up in my
carpet-bag (he can slip the key in the bag tied to some
string), my slippers, a pair of lightish walking-shoes,
Spanish books, my new microscope (about six inches long
and three or four deep), which must have cotton stuffed in
sides my geological compass ; my father knows that; a little
book, if T have got it in my bedroom—' Taxidermy,’ Ask my
father if he thinks there would be any objection to my taking
arsenic for a little time, as my hands are not quite well, and
I have always observed that if I once get them well, and
change my manner of living about the game time, they will
generally remain well, What is the dose? ‘Tell Edward my
gun is dirty, What is Erasmus's direction ? Tell me if you
think there is time to write and receive an answer before I
start, as I should Ike particularly to know what he thinks
about it. I suppose you do not know Sir J. Mackintosh's
direction?
I write all this as if it was settled, but it is not more than
it was, excepting that from Captain Fite-Roy wishing me 10
much to go, and, from his kindness, I feel a predestination £
shall start, I spent a very pleasant evening with him yester+
838) PREPARATIONS, 181
day. He must be more than twenty-three years old; he is
of a slight figure, and a dark but handsome edition of Mr,
‘Kynaston, and, according to my notions, pre-eminently good
manners, He is all for economy, excepting on one point—
vig, fire-arms. He recommends me strongly to get a case of
pistols like his, which cost £601! and never to go on shore
anywhere without loaded ones, and he is doubting about a
« rifles he says I cannot appreciate the luxury of fresh meat
here, Of course I shall buy nothing till everything is settled :
but { work all day long at my lists putting in and striking
out articles. This is the first really cheerful day J haye spent
since T received the letter, and it all is owing to the sort of
involuntary confidence I place in my eau idea? of a Captain.
We stop at Teneriffe. His object is to stop at as many
places as possible. He takes out twenty chronometers, and
it will be a “sin” not to settle the longitude, He cells me to
get it down in writing at the Admiralty that I have the free
ehoice to leave as soon and whenever I like. J dare say you
expect I shall turn back at the Madeira; if 1 have a morsel
of stomach left, 1 won't give up, Excuse my so often troub-
ling and writing : the one is of great utility, the other a great
‘amusement to me. Most likely I shall write to-morrow.
Answer by return of post. Love to my father, dearest Susan,
C. Darwin,
As my instruments want altering, send my things by the
*Oxonian’ the same night,
C. Darwin to Miss Susan Darwin,
London, Friday Morning, September 9, 1891.
My pran Susan,
Thave just received the parcel, T suppose it was not de=
Tivered yesterday owing to the Coronation, ¥ am very much
obliged to my father, and everybody else. Everything is done
quite right. I suppose by this time you have received my
letter written next day, and I hope will send off the things,
My affairs remain én satu guo, Captain Beaufort says 1 am
ie ¢
182 APPOINTMENT TO THE "BEAGLE! TAT. 22. (1831.
‘on the books for vietuals, and he thinks T shail have no diffi-
culty about my collections when I come home. But he is too
deep a fish for me to make him out, ‘The only thing that
now prevents me finally making up my mind, is the want of
certainty about the South Sea Islands; although morally £
have no doubt we should go there whether or no it is put in
the instructions. Captain Fitz-Roy says I do good by plague
ing Captain Beaufore, it stirs him up with a long pole. Cap-
tain Fitz-Roy says he is sure he has interest enough (particu-
larly if this Administration is not everlasting—I shall soon
turn Tory !), anyhow, even when out, to get the ship ordered
home by whatever track he likes, From what Wood says, I
presume the Dukes of Grafton and Richmond interest them-
sclves about him. By the way, Wood has been of the groat-
est use to me; and [ am sure his personal introduction of
me inclined Captain Fitz-Roy to have me,
‘To explain things from the very beginning: Captain Fitz-
Roy first wished to have a Naturalist, and then he seems to
have taken a sudden horror of the chances of having some~
body he should not like on board the vessel. He confesses
his letter to Cambridge was to throw cold water on the scheme,
I don’t think we shall quarrel about politics, although Wood
(as might be expected from a Londonderry) solemnly warned
Fitz-Roy that I was a Whig, Captain Fitz-Roy was before
Uncle Jos, he said, “now your friends will tell you # sea-
captain is the greatest brute on the face of the creation. 1 do
not know how to help you in this case, except by hoping you
will give me atrial.” How one docs change? T actually now
wish the voyage was longer before we touch land, I feel my
blood run cold at the quantity T have to do, Everybody
soems ready (0 assist me. ‘The Zoological want to make me
a corresponding member. All this I can construct without
crossing the Equator. But one friend is quite invaluable, viz.,
a Mr. Yarrell, a stationer, and excellent naturalist.* He goes
* William Yarrell, welt known for his * History of Weitish Minds” and
“History of British Fishes,’ was born in 1784. He inherited from his
‘THE SHOPS SHUT. 183
to the shops with me and bullies about prices (not that I yet
buy): hang me if J give £60 for pistols,
Vesterday all the shops were shut, so thar 1 could do noth-
Sng: and I was child enough to give £r 15, for an excellent
seat to see the Procession. And it certainly was very well
worth seeing. I was surprised that any quantity of gold could
make a long row of people quite glitter, It was like only
what one sées in picture-books of Eastem processions. The
King looked very well, and seemed popular, but there was very
Tittle enthusiasm ; 0 little that T can hardly think there will
be a coronation this time fifty years,
‘The Life Guards pleased me as much as anything—they
fare quite magnificent; and it is beautiful to see them clear
a crowd, You think that they must kill a score at least,
and apparently they really hurt nobody, but most deucedly
frighten theta. Whenever a crowd was so dense that the
people were forced off the causeway, one of these sixefeet
gentlemen, on a black horse, rode straight at the place, miak-
ing his horse rear very high, and fall on the thickest spot.
You would suppose men were made of sponge to see them
shrink away.
In the evening there was an illumination, and much
grander than the one on the Reform Bill. All the principal
streets were crowded just like a race-ground. Carriages
generally being six abreast, and 1 will venture to say not go-
ing one mile an hour. The Duke of Northumberland learnt
@ Tesson last time, for his house was very grand; much more
$0 than the other great nobility, and in much better taste;
évery window in his house was full of straight lines of brilliant
lights, and from their extreme regularity and number had a
beautiful effect. The paucity of invention was very striking,
crowns, anchors, and “W..'s"" were repeated in endless
father a newaagent’s business, to which he steadily adhered up to his death,
“imhir 7Jnt year." He wax a man of a thoroughly amiable and honour,
able character, and was a value! office-bearer of several of the learned
ies.
* The Coronation of William 1V.
— é
TRy APPOINTMENT TO THE *MRAGLE, ACTAT. 22, [2831
succession, ‘Lhe prettiest were gas-pipes with small holes ;
they were almost painfully brilliant, I haye written so much
about the Coronation, that I think you will have ne occasion
to read the Morning Herald.
For about the first time in my life I find London very
pleasant; hurry, bustle, and noise are all in unison with my
feelings. And I have plenty to do in spare moments. I work
at Astronomy, as I suppose it would astound a sailor if one
did not know how to find Latitude and Longitude, 1 am
now going to Captain Fitz-Roy, and will keep [this] letter
open till evening for anything that may occur. I will give
you one proof of FitzRoy being a good officer—all the offie
cers are the same as before; two-thirds of his crew and [the]
cight marines who went before all offered to come again, so
the service cannot be so very bad. ‘The Admiralty have just
issued orders fora large stock of canister-meat and lemon-
juice, &e, &e, T have just returned from spending a long
day with Captain Fitz-Roy, driving about in his gig, and
shopping. This letter is too late for to-day's post. You
may consider it settled that I go. Yet there is room for
change if any untoward accident should happen; this L can
See no reason to expect. I fecl convinced nothing else will
alter my wish of going, I have begun to order things I
have procured a case of good strong pistols and an excel-
lent rifle for £50, there is a saving; & good telescope, with
compass, £5, and these are nearly the only expensive instra~
ments I shall want. Captain Fite-Roy has everything. I
never saw so (what T should call, he says not) extravagant a
man, as regards himself, but as economical towards me. How
he did order things! His fire-arms will cost £400 at least.
1 found the carpet bag when 1 acrived all right, and much
obliged. 1 do not think I shall take any arsenic ; shall send
partridges to Mr. Yarrell ; much obliged. Ask Edward to
dargain with Clemson to make for my gun—fwo spare ham-
mers or cocks, two main-springs, two sere-springs, four nipples
or plugs—I mean one for each barrel, except nipples, of which
there must be two for each, all of excellent quality, and set
4834) VISIT TO PLYMOUTH 185
about them immediately; tell Edward to make inquiries
about prices. I go on Sunday per packet to Plymouth, shall
stay one or two days, then return, and hope to find a letter
from you; a few days in London ; then Cambridge, Shrews~
Dury, London, Plymouth, Madeira, is my route, It is a great
bore my writing so much about the Coronation; 1 could fill
another shect, I have just been with Captain King, Fitz.
Roy's senior officer last expedition ; he thinks that the exe
pedition will suit me. Unasked, he said Fite-Roy's temper
was perfect. He sends his own son with him as midship-
man. The key of my microscope was forgotten ; it is of no
consequence. Love to all.
Cuas. Danwin.
C. Darwia to W. D. Fox.
13 Spring Gardens (and here I shall remain till T staet)
[September 19, 1834],
‘My pear Fox,
T returned from my expedition to sce the Heagie at Plym-
outh on Saturday, and found your most weleome letter on
my table. It is quite ridiculous what a very long period
these Inst twenty days have appeared to me, certainly much
more than as many weeks on ordinary occasions; this will
account for my not recollecting how much I told you of my
plans.
* . . . .
Bat on the whole it is a grand and fortunate opportunity;
there will be so many things to interest me—fine scenery and
an endless occupation and amusement in the different branches
of Natural History ; then again navigation and meteorology
will amuse me on the voyage, joined to the grand requisite of
there being a pleasant set of officers, and, as far as I can
jedge, this is certain. On the other hand there is very con+
siderable risk to one's life and health, and the leaving for so
very long a time so many people whom 1 dearly love, is often
times a fecling s0 painful that it requires all my resolution to
overcome it. But everything is now settled, and before the
0
186 AVPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLES €TAT. 22. [2890
2oth of October I trust to be on the broad sea, My objection
to the vessel is its smallness, which cramps one so for room
for packing my awn body and all my cases, &e., &e. As to
its safety, I hope the Admiralty are the best judges; to a
Tandsman’s eye she looks very small, She is a ten-gun three=
masted brig, but, 1 believe, an excellent vessel. So much for
my future plans, and now for my present, I go to-night by
the mail to Cambridge, and from thence, after settling my
affairs, proceed to Shrewsbury (most likely on Friday 23rd,
or perhaps before); there I shall stay a few days, and be
in London by the 1st of October, and start for Plymouth on
the oth. .
And now for the principal part of my letter. I do not
know how to tell you how very kind I feel your offer of com:
ing to see me before I leave England, Indeed I should like
it very much ; but I must tell you decidedly that I shall have
very little time to spare, and that little time will be almost
spoilt by my having so much to think about ; and secondly,
Tcan hardly think it worth your while to leaws your parish
for such a cause. But I shall never forget such generous
kindness, Now I know you will act just as you think right ;
but do not come up for my sake. Any time is the same for
me. I think from this letter you will know as much of my
plans as I do myself, and will judge accordingly the where
and when to write to me, Every now and then I have mo-
ments of glorious enthusiasm, when I think of the date and
cocoa-ttees, the palms and ferns so lofty and beautifel, every-
thing new, everything sublime. And if I live to sec years
in after life, how grand must such recollections be! Da you
know Humboldt? (if you don’t, do zo directly.) With what
intense pleasure he appears always to look back on the days
spent in the tropical countries, [hope when you next write
to Osmaston, [you will] tell them my scheme, and give them
my kindest regards and ferewells.
Goodbye, my dear Fox,
Yours ever sincerely,
Cuas. Danwix,
aes) BAROMETERS, 187
C, Darwin to R, Fite-Roy,
17 Spuing Gasdens [October 17? 851].
Deaz Firz-Roy,
Very many thanks for your letter; it has made me most
comfortable, for it would have been heart-breaking to have
left anything quite behind, and 1 sever should have thought
of sending things by some other vessel, ‘This letter will, L
trust, accompany some talc. 1 read your letter without at-
tending to the name, But J have now procured some from
Jones, which appears very good, and I will send it this evens
ing by the mail, You will be surprised at not seeing me
proprid persond instead of my handwriting, But E had just
found out that the large steam-packet did not intend to sail
‘on Sunday, and 1 was picturing to myself a small, dirty cabin,
with the proportion of 39-qoths of the passengers very sick,
when Mr. Earl came in and told me the Beagle would not sail
ill the beginning of November, ‘This, of course, settled the
point; so that f remain in London one week more. 1 shall
then send heavy goods by steamer and start myself by the
pach on Sunday evening,
Have you a good set of mountain barometers? Several
great guns in the scientific world have told me some points
in geology to ascertain which entirely depend on their relative
height. If you have not a good stock, I will add one more
4o the list, Tought to be ashamed to trouble you so much,
but will you send one fine to inform me? Lam daily becoming
more anxious to be off, and, if I am so, you must be ina pers
fect fever, What a glorious day the 4th of November will
be tome! My second life will then commence, and it shall
be asa birthday for the rest of my life.
Believe me, dear FitzRoy,
Yours most sincerely,
Cras, Danwex.
Monday—1 hope U have not put you to much inconven=
fence by ordering the roam in readiness,
188 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE.’ AETAT. 22. [1851
. Darwin to J. 8. Hensiow,
Devonport, November 14, 183¢.
My bran Hessiow,
‘The orders are come down from the Admiralty, and every-
thing is finally settled. We positively sail the last day of this
month, and I think before that time the vessel will be ready,
She looks most beautiful, even a landsman must admire her.
We all think her the most perfect vessel ever turned out of
the Dockyard. One thing is certain, no vessel has been fitted
out so expensively, and with so much care. Everything that
can be made so is of mahogany, and nothing can exceed the
neatness and beauty of all the accommodations. ‘The in-
structions are very general, and leave a great deal to the
Captain's mand judgment, paying a substantial as
well a5 a verbal compliment to him,
* ‘ * * .
No vessel ever left England with such a set of Chronom-
eters, viz. twenty-four, all very good ones, In short, every
thing is well, and I have only now to pray for the sickness to
moderate its fierceness, and I shall do very well. Yet I
should not call it one of the very best opportunities for natu-
ral history that has ever occurred, ‘The absolute want of
room is an evil that nothing can surmount. 1 think L, Jenyns
did very wisely in not coming, that is judging from my own
feclings, for I am sure if T had left college some few years, or
been those years older, I acrer could have endured it. ‘The
officers (excepting the Captain) are like the freshest fresh.
men, that is in their manners, in everything else widely differ-
ent, Remember me most kindly to him, and tell him if ever
he dreams in the night of palm-trees, he may in the morning
comfort himself with the assurance that the voyage would not
have suited hin,
Lam much obliged for your advice, de Madhematieis, 1
suspect when Lam struggling with a triangle, I shall often
wish myself in your room, and as for those wicked sulky surds,
Ido not know what I shall do without you to conjure them.
1jt] DEVENPORT. 189
My time passes away very pleasantly. I know one or two
pleasant people, foremost of whom ix Mr. Thunder-andslight-
ning Harris,” whom 1 dare say you have heard of. My chief
employment is to go an board the eagle, and try to look as
much like a sailoras I can. 1 have no evidence of having
taken in man, woman or child.
Tam going to ask you to do one more commission, and f
trust it will be the last. When I was in Cambridge, I wrote
to Mr. Ash, asking him to send my College account to my
father, after having subtracted about .£30 for my furniture.
‘This he has forgotten to do, and my fathee has paid the bill,
and 1 want to have the furniture-money transmitted to my
father. Perhaps you would be kind enough to speak to Mr,
Ash. T have cost my father so much moncy, I am quite
ashamed of myself,
Iwill write once again before sailing, and perhaps you
will write to me before then,
Remember me to Professor Sedgwick and Mr, Peacock,
Believe me, yours affectionately,
Cuas, Darwin.
C. Darwin to J. S. Henstoro,
Devonport, December 3, 183%.
My prar Hesstow,
Te is now late in the evening, and to-night I am going
to sleep cm board. On Monday we most certainly sail, so
you may guess in what a desperate state of confusion we are
allin, If you were to hear the various exclamations of the
officers, you would suppose we had scarcely had a week's
notice, Tam just in the same way taken all adact, and in
such a bustle T hardly know what to do. ‘The number of
things to bedone is infinite, I look forward even to seasick:
ness with something like satisfaction, anything must be better
than this state of anxiety, Iam very much obliged for your
* William Snow Harris, the Electrician,
190 APPOINTMENT TO THE ‘BEAGLE. TAT. a9. (i831.
last kind and affectionate letter. I always like advice from
you, and no one whom I have the luck to know is more eapa-
ble of giving it than yourself, Recollect, when you write,
that Tam n sort of protéyé of yours, and that it is your bounden
duty to lecture me.
Iwill now give you my direction; i i at first, Rio; but
if you will send me a letter on the first Tuesday (when the
packet sails) in February, directed to Monte Video, it will
give me very great pleasure ; I shall so much enjoy hearing a
little Cambridge news, Poor dear old Afma Mater! Tam a
very worthy son in as faras affection goca. I have little more
to write about .., . I cannot end this without telling you
how cordially I feel grateful for the kindness you have shown
me during my Cambridge life. Much of the pleasure and
utility which I may have derived from it is owing to you,
long for the time when we shall again meet, and till then be-
lieve me, my dear Henslow,
Your affectionate and obliged friend,
Cw. Darwin,
Remember me most kindly to those who take any interest
in me.
CHAPTER VL
THR YoYace.
THERE is a natural good-humoured energy in his letters just
Uke himself.’ —From a ietter of Dr, R. W. Darwin's to Prof. Heaslow,
[Tae object of the Beagd voyage is briefly described in
my father’s * Journal of Researches,’ p. 1, as being “to con
plete the Survey, of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, com-
menced under Captain King in 1826 to 1830; to survey the
shores of Chile, Peru, and some island in the Pacific; and
to carry a chain of chronometrical measurements round the
world.”
‘The Beayte is described as a well-built little vessel, of
235 tons, rigged as a barque, and carrying six guns. She
belonged to the old class of ten-gun brigs, which were nick-
named “coffins,” from their liability to go down in severe
weather. ‘They were very " deep-waisted,” that is, thelr bul-
warks were high in proportion to their size, so that a heavy
sea breaking aver them might be highly dangerous. Never
theless, she lived through the five years’ work, in the most
Stormy regions in the world, under Commanders Stokes and
Fitz-Roy, without a serious accident. When re-commissioned
fn 83x for her second voyage, she was found (as T learn from
Admiral Sir James Sulivan) to be so rotten that she had
practically to be rebuilt, and it was this that caused the long
delay in refitting ‘The upper deck was raised, making het
mueh safer in heavy weather, and giving her far more com~
192 THE VOYAGE. ATAT, 22
fortable accommodation below. By these alterations and by
the strong sheathing added to her bottom she was brought
‘up to 242 tons burthen. It is a proof of the splendid seaman-
ship of Captain Fitz-Roy and his officers that she returned
without having carried away a spar, and that in only one
‘of the heavy storms that she encountered was she in great
danger,
She was fitted out for the expedition with all possible care,
being supplied with carefully chosen spars and topes, six
boats, and a “dinghy; " lightning conductors, “invented by
Mr. Harris, were fixed in all the masts, the bowsprits, and even
in the flying jib-boom,”” To quote my father’s description,
written from Devonport, November 17, #838; “Everybody,
who can judge, says it is one of the grandest voyages that
has almost ever been sent out. Everything is on « grand
scale, Twenty-four chronometers, The whole ship is fitted
up with mahogany; she is the admiration of the whole place.
In short, everything is as prosperous as human means can
make it.” "
Owing to the smallness of the vessel, every ane on board
was cramped for room, and my father’s accommodation seems
to have been small enough : “ I have just room to turn round,”
he writes to Henslow, “and that is all.” Admiral Sir James
Sulivan writes to me: “The narrow space at the end of the
chart-table was his only accommodation for working, dress-
ing, and sleeping; the hammock being left hanging over his
head by day, when the sea was at all rough, that he might lic
on it with a book in his hand when he could not any longer
sit ut the table, His only stowage for clothes being several
small drawers in the corner, reaching from deck to deck; the
top one being taken out when the hammock was hung up, with-
out which there was not length for it, so then the foot-clews
took the place of the top drawer, For specimens he had a
very small cabin under the forecastle.”
Yet of this narrow room he wrote enthusiastically, Sep-
tember 17, 1831 :—"* When I wrote last I was in great alarm
about my cabin, ‘The cabins were not then marked out, but
‘THE SHIP. 193
when I left they were, and mine is a capital one, certainly
next best to the Captain's and remarkably light’ My com-
pasion most luckily, I think, will turn out to be the officer
whom I shall like best, Captain Fits-Roy says he will take
care that one corner is so fitted up that I shall be com-
fortable in it and shall consider it my home, but that also I
shall have the run of his, My cabin is the drawing one; and
im the middle is a large table, on which we two sleep in ham-
mocks. But for the first two months there will be no drawing
to be done, so that it will be quite a luxurious room, and good
deal larger than the Captain's cabin,”
My father used to say that it was the absolute necessity of
tidiness in the cramped space of the Aeayle that helped *to
give him his methodical habits of working.’ On the Beagle,
‘too, he would say, that he learned what he considered the
golden rule for saving time; #,¢, taking care of the min-
utes.
Sir James Sulivan tells me that the chief fault in the outfit
‘of the expedition was the want of a second smaller vessel to
act as tender. ‘This want was so much felt by Captain Fite-
Roy that he hired two decked bonts to survey the coast of
Patagonia, at a cost of £1100, a sum which he had to supply,
although the boats saved several thousand pounds to the
country, He afterwards bought a schooner to act as atender,
thus saving the country a further large amount. He was
ultimately ordered to sell the schooner, and was compelled to
hear the loss himself, and it was only after his death that same
inadequate compensation was made for all the losses which he
suffered through his zeal.
For want of a proper tender, much of the work had to be
done in small open whale boats, which sent away from
the ship for weeks together, and this in a climate, where
the crews were exposed to severe hardships from the almost
constant rains, which sometimes continued for weeks together,
‘The completeness of the equipment was also in other respects
largely due to the public spirit of Captain Fitz-Roy, He
provided at his own cost an artist, and a skilled instrument-
to4 THE VOYAGE. -2TAT. 22.
taker to look after the chronometers.* Captain Fitz-Roy's
wish was to take “some well-educated and scientific person
as his private guest, but this generous offer was only accepted
by my father on condition of being allowed to pay a fair share
of the expense of the Captain’s table; he was, moreover, on
the ship's books for victuals.
Tn a letter to his sister (July 1832) he writes contentedly
of his manner of life at sea:—“1 do not think T have ever
given you an account of how the,day passes. We breakfast
at eight o'clock. ‘The invariable maxim is to throw away all
politeness—that is, never to wait for each other, and bolt off
the minute one has done eating, &c. At sea, when the
weather is calm, 1 work at marine animals, with which the
whole ocean abounds. If there is any sea up I am cither sick
or contrive to read some voyage or travels. At one we dine,
You shore-going people are lamentably mistaken about the
manner of living on board. We have never yet (nor shall
we) dined off salt meat. Rice and peas and calatunses are
excellent vegetables, and, with good bread, who could want
moré? Judge Alderson could not be more temperate, as
nothing but water comes on the table. At five we have tea,
‘The midshipmen’s berth have all their meals an hour before
us, and the gun-room an hour afterwards."
‘The crew of the Beagle consisted of Captain Fitz-Roy,
“Commander and Surveyor,” two lieutenants, one of whom
(the first lieutenant) was the fate Captain Wickham, Governor
of Queensland; the present Admiral Sir James Sulivan, K.C.B.,
was the second lieutenant, Besides the master and two mates,
there was an assistant-surveyor, the present Admiral Lort
Stokes. There were also a surgeon, assistant-surgeon, two
midshipmen, master's mate, a volunteer (rst class), purser,
carpenter, clerk, boatswain, eight marines, thirty-four seamen,
and six boys,
‘There are not now (1882) many survivors of my father’s old
ship-mates, Admiral Mellersh, Mr. Hamond, and Mr, Philip
Bither one or both were on the books for vietuals,
THE OFFICERS, 195
King, of the Legislative Council of Sydney, and Mr. Usborne,
are among the number. Admiral Johnson died almost at the
same time as my father.
He retained to the last a most pleasant recollection of the
voyage of the Seayée, and of the friends he made on bourd
her, To his children their names were familiar, from his
many stories of the voyage, and we caught his feeling of
friendship for many who were to us nothing more than names.
Tt is pleasant to know how affectionately his old companions
remembered him,
Sir James Sulivan remained, throughout my father's life-
time, one of his best and truest friends, He writes :—"I can
confidently express my belief that during the five years in the
Beagle, he was never known to be out of temper, or to say one
unkind or hasty word efjor fe any one. You will therefore
readily understand how this, combined with the admiration
of his energy and ability, led to our giving him the name of
“the dear old Philosopher.""* Admiral Mellersh writes to
me:—" Your father is as vividly in my mind's eye us if it
was only a week ago that I was in the Beagle with him ; his
genial smile and conversation can never be forgotten by any
who saw them and heard them. I was sent on two or three
occasions away in « boat with him on some of his scientific
excursions, and always looked forward to these trips with
great pleasure, an anticipation that, uolike many others, was
always realised. I think he was the only man I ever knew
against whom T never heard a word said; and as people
when shut up in a ship for five years are apt to get cross with
each other, that is saying a good deal, Certainly we were
always #0 hard at work, we had no time to quarrel, but if we
had done »o, I feel sure your father would have tried (and
have been successful) to throw oil on the troubled waters.”
His other nickoame was“ The Flycatcher.” Thave heart! my father
tell how he overheard the boatawain of the Beaghe showing another boat
awain over the ship, and pointing ont the officers "That's our first Liew
tenant ; that’s our dector ; that’s our flycatcher."
1096 THE VOYAGE ATAT. 72
Admiral Stokes, Mr, King, Mr Usborne, and Mr, Ha-
mond, all speak of their friendship with him in the same warm-
hearted way.
Of the life on board and on shore his letters give some
idea, Captain Fits-Roy was a strict officer, and made him-
scif thoroughly respected both by officers and men. ‘The
occasional severity of his manner was borne with because
every one on board knew that his first thought was his
duty, and that he would sacrifice anything to the real welfare
of the ship. My father writes, July 1834, “We all jog on
very well together, there is no quarrelling on board, which is
something to say. ‘The Captain keeps all smooth by rowing
every one in turn.” ‘The best proof that Fitz-Roy was valued
as a commander is given by the fact that many* of the crew
had sailed with him in the Beagle’s former voyage, and there
wore a few officers as well as seainen and marines, who had
served in the Adventure or Beagle during the whole of that
expedition.
My father speaks of the officers asa fine determined set
of men, and especially of Wickham, the first lieutenant, as a
“glorious fellow.” ‘The latter being responsible for the
smartness and appearance of the ship strongly objected to
his littering the decks, and spoke of specimens as “d—d
beastly devilment,” and used to add, “If 1 were skipper, 1
would soon have you and all your d—d mess out of the
place.”
A sort of halo of sanctity was given to my father by the
fact of his dining in the Captain’s cabin, so that the midship-
men used at first to call him “Sir,” a formality, however,
which did not prevent his becoming fast friends with the
younger officers, He wrote about the year 1861 or 1862 10
Mr. P, G, King, M.L.C., Sydney, who, as before stated, was
a midshipman on board the Heagle:—" The remembrance of
old days, when we used to sit and talk on the booms of the
Beagle, will always, to the day of my death, make me glad to
* Voyage of the abemture and Botgie," vol. iT. p. at.
SEA SICKNESS, 197
hear of your happiness and prosperity." Mr, King describes
the pleasure my father seemed to take “in pointing out to me
as 4 youngster the delights of the tropical nights, with their
balmy breezes eddying out of the sails above us, and the sea
Tighted up by the passage of the ship through the never-end=
ing streams of phosphorescent animalculz.”*
Tt has been assumed that his ill-health in later years was
due to his having suffered so much from sickness, ‘This
he did not himself believe, but rather ascribed his bad health
to the hereditary fault which came out as gout in some of the
past generations. I am not quite clear as to how much he
actually suffered from sea-sickness ; my impression is distinct
that, according. to his own memory, he was not actually ill
after the first three weeks, but constantly uncomfortable when
‘the vessel pitched at all heavily. But, judging from his let-
ters, and from the evidence of some of the officers, it would
seem that in later years he forgot the extent of the discomfort
from which he suffered. Writing June 3, 1836, from the
Cape of Good Hope, he says: “Tt is a lucky thing for me
that the voyage is drawing to its close, for I positively suffer
‘more from sea-sickness now than three years ago." Admiral
Lort Stokes wrote to the Zimes, April 25, 188;
“May T beg a corner for my feeble testimony to the
marvellous peracvering endurance in the cause of science of
that great naturalist, my old and lost friend, Mr, Charles
Darwin, whose remains are so very justly to be honoured with
4 resting-place in Westminster Abbey?
“Perhaps no one can better testify to his early and most
trying labours than myself. We worked together for several
“years at the same table inthe poop cabin of the Aeagie during
her celebrated voyage, he with his microscope and myself at
the charts. It was often a very lively end of the little craft,
and distressingly so to my old friend, who suffered greatly
from sea-sickness. After perhaps an hour's work he would
Say to me, ‘Old fellow, I must take the horizontal for it,’ that
Being the best relief position from ship motion; a stretch
108 THE VOYAGE, TAT. 22.
‘aut on one side of the table for some time would enable
him to resume his labours for a while, when he bad again
to lie down.
“It was distressing to witness this early sacrifice of Mr,
Darwin's health, who ever afterwards seriously felt the ill
effects of the Beugle’s voyage.”
Mr, A. B, Usborne writes, "Me was a dreadful sufferer
from sea-sickness, and at times, when I have been officer of
the watch, and reduced the sails, making the ship more easy,
and thos relieving him, I have been pronounced by him to be
‘a good officer,’ and he would resume his microscopic ob-
servations in the poop cabin.” The amount of work that he
got through on the Bargée shows that he was habitually in full
vigour; he had, however, ane severe illness, in South Amcr=
ica, when he was received into the house of an Englishman,
Mr, Corfield, who tended him with careful kindness, T have
heard him say that in this illness every secretion of the body
was affected, and that when he described the sysptoms to his
father Dr. Darwin could make no guess as to the nature of
the disease, My father was sometimes inclined to think that
the breaking up of his health was to some extent due to this
attack.
The eagle letters give ample proof of his strong love of
home, and all connected with it, from his father down to
Nancy, his old nurse, to whom he sometimes sends his love,
His delight in home-letters is shown in such passages as —
“But if you knew the glowing, unspeakable delight, which 1
felt at being certain that my father and all of you were well,
only four months ago, you would not gridge the Iabour lost
in keeping up the regular series of letters.”
Or aguin—his longing to return in words like these :—
“Tr is too delightful to think that I shall see the leaves fall
and hear the robin sing next autumn at Shrewsbury. My
feelings are those of a schoolboy to the smallest point; I
doubt whether ever boy longed for his holidays as much a8
Ido to see you all again, Tam at present, although nearly
LETTERS. 199
half the world is between me and home, beginning to arrange
what I shall do, where { shall go during the first week.”
Another feature in his letters 48 the surprise and delight
with which he hears of his collections and observations being
of some use. It seems only to have gradually occurred to
hin that he would ever be more than a collector of specimens
and facts, of which the great men were to make use, And
even as to the value of his’ collections he seems to have had
much doubt, for he wrote to Henslow in 1834:—‘I really
began to think that my collections were 80 poor that you were
puzzled what to say; the case is now quite an the opposite
tack, for you are guilty of exciting all my vain feclings to a
most comfortable pitch ; if hard work will atone for these
thoughts, I vow it shall not be spared,”
After his return and settlement in London, he began
to realise the value of what he had done, and wrote to Cap=
tain Fitz-Roy—" However others may look back to the Beagle's
voyage, now that the small disagreeable parts are well-nigh
forgotten, I think it far the most fortunate circumstance in
my life that the chance afforded by your offer of taking a
Naturalist fell on me, I often have the most vivid and
delightful pictures of what I saw on board the Beagle pass
before my eyes. These recollections, and what I learnt on
Natural History, I would not exchange for twice ten thousand
a yeas
In selecting the following series of letters, I have been
guided by the wish to give as much personal detail as pos
sible, T have given only a few scientific letters, to illustrate
the way in which he worked, and how he regarded his own
results, In his ‘ Journal of Researches" he gives incidentally
some ides of his personal character ; the letters given in the
present chapter serve to amplify in fresher and more spon
tancous words that impression of his personality which the
‘Journal’ has given to so many readers.
200 THE VOYAGE, TAT. 23. fry,
© Darwin to R, W, Darwin.
Bahia, or San Salvador, Brazile:
[february 4, 1852).
1 find after the frst page T have been writing
to my sisters
My prar Farner,
I am writing this on the 8th of February, one day's sail
past St. Jago (Cape de Verd), and intend taking the chance
of meeting with a homeward-bound vessel somewhere about
the equator. ‘The date, however, will tell this whenever
the opportunity occurs, T will now begin from the day of
leaving England, and give a short account of our progress.
We sailed, as you know, on the 27th of December, and have
been fortunate enough to have had from that time to the
present a fair and moderate breeze. It afterwards proved
that we had escaped a heavy gale in the Channel, another
at Madeira, and another on [the] Coast of Africa, But in
escaping the gale, we felt its consequences—a heavy sea. In
the Bay of Biscay there was a long and continuous swell, and
the misery I endured from sea-sickness is far beyond what 1
ever guessed at, I believe you are curious about it, 1 will give
you all my dear-bought experience. Nobody who has only
been to sea for twenty-four hours has a right to say that sea~
sickness is even uncomfortable, ‘The real misery only be-
gins when you are so exhausted that a little exertion makes
a feeling of faintness come on, 1 found nothing but lying in
my hammock did me any good, 1 must especially except
your receipt of raisins, which is the only food that the stomach
will bear.
On the 4th of January we were not many miles from
Madeira, but as there was a heavy sea running, and the
island lay to windward, it was not thought worth while to
beat up to it, [afterwards has tuened out it was lucky we
saved ourselves the trouble, Iwas much too sick even to get
up to sce the distant outline. On the 6th, in the evening, we
sailed into the harbour of Santa Cruz. [now first felt even
moderately well, and 1 was picturing to myself all the delights
‘¥832,) PEAK OF TENERIFFE. 208
of fresh fruits growing in beautiful valleys, and reading Hum-
‘boldt’s descriptions of the island’s glorious views, when per=
haps you may nearly guess at our disappointment, when a
small pate man informed us we must perform a strict quaran=
tine of twelve days. There was a death-like stillness in the
ship till the Captain cried “up jib," and we left this long-
wished for place.
We were becalmed for a day between ‘Teneriffe and the
Grand Canary, and here I first experienced any enjoyment,
The view was glorious, The Peak of Teneriffe was seen
amongst the clouds like another world, Our only drawback
was the extreme wish of visiting this glorious island. Zeit
Eyton never to forget either the Canary Islands or South America;
that I am sure it will well repay the necessary trouble, but
‘that he must make up his mind to find a good deal of the
Tater. 1 feel certain he will regret it if he docs not make
the attempt. From Teneriffe to St. Jago the voyage was
extremely pleasant. T had a net astern the vessel which
caught great numbers of curious animals, and fully occupied
my time in my cabin, and on deck the weather was 60 delight-
ful and clear, that the sky and water together made a picture,
On the 16th we arrived at Port Praya, the capital of the Cape
de Verds, and there we remained twenty-three days, viz. till
yesterday, the 7th of February. ‘The time has flows away
most delightfully, indeed nothing can be pleasanter; exceed-
ingly busy, and that business both a duty and a great delight.
Ido not believe I have spent one half-hour idly since leaving
Teneriffe. St. Jago has afforded me an exceedingly rich har-
vest in several branches of Natural History. I find the de
scriptions scarcely worth anything of many of the commoner
animals that inhabit the Tropics. 1 allude, of course, to those
of the lower classes,
Geologi in x volcanic country is most delightful ;
besides the interest attached to itself, it leads you into most
Beautiful and retired spots. Nobody but a person fond of
Natural History can imagine the pleasure of strolling under
‘cooaz-nuts in a thicket of bananas and coffee-plants, and an
“
i
202 THE VOYAGE, ATAT. 23. [283%
endless number of wild flowers, And this island, that has
given me so much instruction and delight, is reckoned the
most uninteresting place that we perhaps shall touch at dur-
ny our voyage. It certainly is generally very barren, but the
valleys are more exquisitely beautiful, from the very contrast.
It is utterly useless to say anything about the scenery ; it
would be as profitable to explain to a blind man colours, as to
4 person who has not been out of Europe, the total dissimi-
larity of a tropical view. Whenever T enjoy anything, T always
vither look forward to writing it down, éither in my logebook
(which increases in bulk), or in a letter; so you must excuse
raptures, and those raptures badly expressed. I find my col
Jections are increasing wonderfully, and from Rio 1 think f
shall be obliged to send a cargo home.
All the endless delays which we experienced at Plymouth
haye been most fortunate, as I verily believe no person evet
went out better provided for collecting and observing in the
different branches of Natural History. In a multitude of
counsellors I certainly found good, I find to my great sur
prise thata ship is singularly comfortable for all sorts of work.
Everything is so close at hand, and being cramped makes one
#o methodical, that in the end I have been a gainer, I already
have got to look at going to sea as a regular quiet place, like
going back to home after staying away from it. In short, I
find a ship a very comfortable house, with everything you
want, and if it was not for sea-sickness the whole world would
‘be sailors, Ido not think there is much danger of Erasmus
setting the example, but in case there should be, he may rely
upon it he docs not know one-tenth of the sufferings of sea
sickness.
I like the officers much more than I did at first, especially
Wickham, and young King and Stokes, and indeed all of
them, ‘The Captain continues steadily very kind, and does
everything in his power to assist me. We see very little of
each other when in harbour, our pursuits lead us in such dif-
ferent tracks. I never in my life met with a man who could
endure. nearly so great a share of fatigue. He works inces-
ro CROSSING THE EQUATOR. 203
‘santly, and when apparently not employed, be is thinking. If
‘he does not kill himself, he will during this voyage do a won-
erful quantity of work, I find T am very well, and stand
the little heat we have had as yet as well as anybody, We
shall soon have it in real earnest. We are now sailing for
Fernando Noronha, off the coast of Brazil, where we sball not
stay very Jong, and then examine the shoals between there
and Rio, touching perhaps at Bahia, I will finish this letter
when an opportunity of sending it occurs,
February 26th—Abourt 280 miles from Bahia, On the
roth we spoke the packet Zyra, on her voyage to Rio. T sent
a short letter by her, to be sent to England on [the] first
opportunity. We have been singularly unlucky in not meet»
ing with any homeward-bound vessels, bat I suppose [at]
Bahia we certainly shall be able to write to England. Since
writing the first part of [this] letter nothing has occurred
“except crossing the Equator, and being shaved. ‘This most
disagreeable operation consists in having your face rubbed
with paint and tar, which forms a lather for a saw which repre-
‘sents the razor, and then being half drowned in a sail filled with
salt water. About so miles north of the line we touched at
the rocks of St. Paul; this little speck (about } of a mile
across) in the Atlantic has seldom been visited. It is totally
Darren, but is covered by hosts of birds ; they were so un-
‘wed fo men that we found we could kill plenty with stones
and sticks, After remaining some hours on the island, we
returned on board with the boat loaded with our prey. From
‘this we went to Fernando Noronha, a small island where the
[Brazilians] send their exiles. The landing there was attended
with so much difficulty owing [to] a heavy surf that the Cap-
tain determined to sail the next day after arriving. My one
day on shore was exceedingly interesting, the whole island is
‘one single wood so matted together by creepers that it is very
@ifficult to move out of the beaten path. T find the Natural
History of all these unfrequented spots most exceedingly
interesting, especially the geology. 1 have written this much
in order to save time at Bahia, 5
204, “THE VOYAGE. ZITAT, 25. Tsig2.
Decidedly the most striking thing in the Tropics is the
novelty of the vegetable forms. Cocoa-nuts could well be
imagined from drawings, if you add to them a graceful Tight=
ness which no European tree partakes of. Bananas and plan-
taing are exactly the same as those in hothouses, the acacias
or tamarinds are striking from the blueness of their foliage ;
Lytt of the glorious orange trees, no description, no drawings,
will give any just idea; instead of the sickly green of our
‘oranges, the native ones exceed the Portugal laurel in the
darkness of their tint, and infinitely exceed it in beauty of
form, Cocoa-nuits, papaws, the light green bananas, and
‘oranges, loaded with fruit, generally surround the more luxu-
riant villages. Whilst viewing such scenes, one feels the im-
possibility that any description should come near the mark,
much less be overdrawn,
March 1st-—WBabia, or San Salvador, 1 arrived at this
place on the 28th of February, and am now writing this letter
after having in real earnest strolled in the forests of the new
world, No person could imagine anything so beautiful as the
ancient town of Bahia, it is fairly embosomed in a luxuriant
wood of beautiful trees, and situated on a steep bank, and
overlooks the calm waters of the great bay of All Saints. The
houses are white and lofty, and, from the windows being
narrow and fong, have a very light and clegant appearance.
Convents, porticos, and public buildings, vary the uniformity
of the houses; the bay is scattered over with large ships
short, and what can be said more, it is one of the finest views
in the Brazils. But the exquisite glorious pleasure of walking
amongst such flowers, and such trees, cannot be comprehended
bur by those who have experienced it, Although in so low a
latitude the locality is not disagreeably hot, but at present it
is very damp, for it is the rainy season. I find the climate as
yet agrees admirably with me; it makes me long to live
quietly for some time in such a country. If you really want
to have [an idea] of tropical countries, study Humboldt.
Skip the scientific parts, and commence after leaving Tener-
iffe. My feclings amount to admiration the more I read him.
1832,f LIFE AT SEA. 205
‘Tell Eyton (I find 1 am writing to my sisters!) how exceed-
ingly 1 enjoy America, and that 1 am sure it will be a great
pity if he does not make a start,
‘This letter will go on the sth, and I am afraid will be some
time before it reaches you ; it must be a warning how in other
parts of the world you may be a long time without hearing.
‘A year might by accident thus pass. About the 12th we
start for Rio, but we remain some time on the way in sound-
ing the Albrolhos shoals. ‘Tell Eyton as far as my experience
goes let him study Spanish, French, drawing, and Humboldt,
T do sincerely hope to hear of (if not to see him) in South
America, T look forward to the letters in Rio—till cach one
is acknowledged, mention its date in the next,
We have beat all the ships in manccuvring, so much so
that the commanding officer says, we need not follow his
example; because we do everything better than his great
I begin to take great interest in naval points, more
ly now, as I find they all say we are the No, r in South
America. I suppose the Captain is a most excellent officer,
Te was quite glorious to-day how we beat the Semarang in
{urling sails, It is quite a new thing for a “sounding ship" to
beat a regular man-of-war; and yet the Acagie is not at all a
particular ship, Erasmus will clearly pereeive it when he
hears that in the night I have actually sat down in the snered
precincts of the quarter deck. You must excuse these queer
letters, and recollect they are generally written in the evening
after my day's work. I take more pains over my log-book, 30
that eventually you will have a good account of all the places
I visit, Hitherto the voyage has answered admirably to me,
and yet Tam now more fully aware of your wisdom in throw-
ing cold water on the whole scheme; the chances ure so
numerous of turning out quite the reverse; to such an extent
do I feel this, that if my advice was asked by any person on a
similar occasion, I should be very cautious in encouraging
his, Thave not time to write to anybody else, so send to
Maer to let them know, that in the midst of the glorious
tropical scenery, I do not forget how instrumental they were
206 THE VOYAGE. TAT. 23. [rag
in placing me there. I will not rapturise again, but I give
myself great credit in not being crazy out of pure delight.
Give my love to every soul at home, and to the Owens,
1 think one’s affections, like other good things, flourish and
increase in these tropical regions.
‘The conviction that Lar walking in the New World is
‘even yet marvellous in my own eyes, and I dare aay it is little
less so to you, the receiving a letter from a son of yours in
such a quarter,
Believe me, my dear Father,
Your most affectionate son,
Ciartes Darwin.
©. Darwin to W.D. Fox.
Botofago Bay, near Rio de Janeiro,
‘May, 1832.
My pear Fox,
I have delayed writing to you and all my other friends till
I arrived here and had some little spare time. My mind has
been, since leaving England, in a perfect Aurricane of delight
and astonishment, and to this hour scarcely a minute has
passed in idleness... .
At St. Jago my natural history and most delightful labours
commenced. During the three weeks I collected 2 host of
marine animals, and enjoyed many a good geological walk.
‘Touching at some islands, we sailed to Bahia, and from thence
to Rio, where I bave already been some weeks. My collec-
tions go on admirsbly in almost every branch. As for in-
sects, I trust 1 shall send a host of undescribed species to
England. I believe they have no small ones in the collec-
tions, and here this morning I have taken minute Hydropori,
Noterus, Colymbetes, Hydrophilas, Hydrobius, Gromius, &.,
Sc, as specimens of fresh-water beetles. 1 am entirely oceu-
pied with land animals, as the beach is only sand, Spiders
and the adjoining tribes have pethaps given me, from their
novelty, the most pleasure, I think I have already taken
several new genera.
But Geology carries the day: it is like the pleasure of
gambling. Speculating, on first arriving, what the rocks may
‘be, Loften mentally cry out 3 to 4 tertiary against primitive ;
‘but the latter have hitherto won all the bets. So much for
the grand end of my voyage; in other respects thingy are
equally flourishing, My life, when at vea, ib so quiet, that to
a person who can employ himself, nothing can be pleasanter ;
the beauty of the sky and brilliancy of the ocean together
make a picture, But when on shore, and wandering in the
sublime forests, surrounded by views more gorgeous than
even Claude ever imagined, T enjoy a delight which none but
those who have experienced it can understand, If it is to be
done, it must be by studying Humboldt At our ancient
snug breakfasts, at Cambridge, I little thought that the wide
Atlantic would ever separate us; but it is a rare privilege that
with the body, the feclingy and memory are not divided, On
the contrary, the pleasantest scenes in my life, many of which
have been in Cambridge, rise from the contrast of the present,
the more vividly in my imagination, Do you think any
diamond beetle will ever give me so much pleasure as our old
friend crux major?.... It is one of my most constant
‘amusements to draw pictures of the past; and in them I
often see you and poor little Fan. Oh, Lord, and then ald
Dash, poor thing! Do you recollect how you all tormented
me about his beautiful tail?
«+.» Think when you are picking insects off a haw-
thorn-hedge on a fine May day (wretchedly cold, 1 have no
doubt), think of me collecting amongst pine-apples and orange+
trees; whilst staining your fingers with ditty blackberries,
think and be envious of ripe oranges, ‘This is a proper piece
‘of bravado, for I would walk through many a mile of sleet,
snow, of rain to shake you by the hand, My dear old Fox,
God bless you. Believe me,
Yours very affectionately,
Cotas. Danwin.
li
208 THE VOYAGE A®TAT. 23. [rbg2
©. Darwin to J. S. Henstinw,
Wo de Janeiro, May x8, 1838:
My pian Hxwstow, ‘naar
“ 7 = : .
‘Till arriving at Teneriffe (we did aot touch at Madeira)
T was scarcely out of my hammock, and really suffered more
than you can well imagine from such a cause. At Santa
Craz, whilst looking amongst the clouds for the Peak, and
repeating to myself Humboldt’s sublime descriptions, it was
announced we must perform twelve days! strict quaantine,
We had made a short passage, so “ Up jib,” and away for St,
Jago. You will say all this sounds very bad, and so it was ;
but from that to the present time it has been nearly one scene
of continual enjoyment. A net over the stern kept me at full
work till we arrived at St. Jago. Here we spent three most
delightful weeks, ‘The geology was pre-eminently interest-
ing, and I believe quite new; there are some facts on a
large scale of upraised coast (which is an excellent epoch for
all the volcanic rocks to date from), that would interest Mr.
Lyell.
‘One great source of perplexity to me is an utter ignorance
whether I note the right facts, and whether they are of suffi-
cient importance to interest others. In the one thing collect-
Ing I cannot go wrong. St. Jago is tingularly barren, and
produces few plants or insects, #0 that my hammer was my
usual companion, and in its company most delightful hours 1
spent. On the coast I'collected many marine animals, chiefly
gnsteropodous (I think some new). I examined pretty ac-
curately a Caryopilia, and, i my eyes are not bewitched,
former descriptions have not the slightest resemblance to the
animal. I took several specimens of an Octopus which pos
yessed a most marvellous power of changing its colours, equal-
ling any chameleon, and evidently accommodating the changes
to the colour of the ground which it passed over, Yellowish
green, dark brown, and red, were the prevailing colours; this
fact appears to be new, as far as I can find out, Geology and
iy0) RIO MACAO. 309
the invertebrate animals will be my chief object of pursuit
through the whole voyage.
We then sailed for Bahia, and touched at the rock of St.
Paul, This is a serpentine formation. Is it not the only
island in the Atlantic which ix not volcanic? We likewise
stayed a few hours at Fernando Noronha ; a tremendous surf
was running 50 that a boat was swamped, and the Captain
would not wait. 1 find my life on board when we are on blue
water most delightful, so very comfortable and quict—it is
almost impossible to be idle, and that for me is saying a good
deal, Nobody could possibly be better fitted in every respect
for collecting than Tam; many cooks haye not spoiled the
broth this time. Mr. Brown's little hints about microscopes,
&e,, have been invaluable I am well off in books, the * Dice
tionnaire Classique’ ss most saseful, If you should think of
any thing or book that would be useful tome, if you would
writeone line, E. Darwin, Wyndham Club, St. James's Street,
he will procure them, and send them with some other things
to Monte Video, which for the next year will be my bead-
quarters.
‘Touching at the Abrolhos, we arrived here on April 4th,
when amongst others I received your most kind letter, You
may rely on it during the evening T thought of the many most
ppy hours I have spent with you in Cambridge. Tam now
living at Botofogo, a village about a league from the city, and
shall be able to remain a month longer. “The Sangiehas gone
back to Bahia, and will pick me up on its return. ‘There is a
most important error in the longitude of South America, to
settle which this second trip has been undertaken, Our
chronometers, at Teast sixteen of them, are going superbly ;
hone on record have ever gone at all like them.
A few days after arriving I started on an expedition of
150 miles to Rio Macao, which lasted eighteen days, Here I
first snw a tropical forest in all its sublime grandeur—nothing
but the reality can give any idea how wonderful, how magnifi-
ent the scene is, If I was to specify any one thing I should
give the pre-eminence to the host of parasitical plants. Your
210 THE VOYAGE, TAT. as, ore
engraving is exactly true, but undeerates rather than exag-
erates the luxuriance, I never experienced such intense
delight. I formerly admired Humboldt, f now almost adore
him; he alone gives any notion of the feelings which are
raised in the mind on first entering the Tropics, I am now
collecting fresh-water and land animals; if what was told me
in London is true, viz., that there are no small insects in the
collections from the Tropics, I tell Entomologists to look out
and have their pens ready for deseribing. I have taken as
minute (if not more so) as in England, Hydropori, Hygrotl,
Hydrobii, Pselaphi, Staphylini, Curculio, &c. &c. Itis exceed-
ingly interesting observing the difference of genera and
species from those which I know; it is however much less
than Thad expected. Iam at present red-hot with spiders;
they are very interesting, and if Tam not mistaken I have
already taken some new genera. T shall have a large box to
send very soon to Cambridge, and with that I will mention
some more natural history particalars,
‘The Captain does everything in his power to assist me,
and we get on very well, but I thank my better fortune he has
not made me a renegade to Whig principles. I would not be
a Tory, if it was merely on account of their cold hearts about
that scandal to Christian nations—Slavery, Lam very good
friends with all the officers.
1 have just returned from a walk, and as a specimen, how
little the insects are known. Noterus, according to the * Dic-
tionnaire Classique,’ containg solely three European species.
Tin one haul of my net took five distinct species ; is this not
quite extraordinary? .. . «
‘Tell Professor Sedgwick he does not know how much 1
am indebted to him for the Welsh Expedi ; it has given
me an interest in Geology which I would not give up for any
consideration. 1 do not think T ever spent a more delightful
three weeks than pounding the North-west Mountains, 1
look forward to the geology about Monte Video as I hear
there are slates there, so I presume in that district I shall find
the junctions of the Pampas, and the enormous granite forma-
asa) DOTOFOGO BAY, ai
tion of Brazil, At Bahia the pegmatite and gneiss in beds
Jad the same direction, as observed by Humboldt, prevailing
over Columbia, distant 1300 miles—is it not wonderful >
Monte Video will be fora long time my direction, 1 hope
you will write again to me, there ix nobody from whom 1 like
receiving advice so much as from you. .. . Excuse this
almost unintelligible letter, and believe me, my dear Henslow,
with the warmest feelings of respect and friendship,
: ‘Yours affectionately,
Cyas, Darwin,
C. Darwin tJ. M, Herbert,
Botofogo Bay, Rio de Janeiro,
June 1832.
My beak oLp Hrxser,
Your letter arrived here when I had given up all hopes of
receiving another, it gave me, therefore, an additional degree
of pleasure. At such an interval of time and space one does
Tearn to feel truly obliged to those wha do not forget one.
‘The memory when recalling scenes past by, affords to us
exiles one of the greatest pleasures, Often and often whilst
wandering amongst these hills do I think of Barmouth, and, 1
may add, as often wish for such a companion. What a con-
trast does a walk in these two places afford ; here abrupt and
‘stony peaks are to the very summit enclosed by luxuriant
woods; the whole surface of the country, excepting where
‘cleared by man, is one impenetrable forest. How different
from Wales, with its sloping hills covered with turf, and its
open valleys. I was not previously aware how intimately
what may be called the moral part is connected with the
‘enjoyment of scenery. I mean such ideas, as the history of
the country, the utility of the produce, and more especially
the happiness of the people living with them. Change the
English labourer into a poor slave, working for another, and
‘You will hardly recognise the same view. Iam sure you will
‘be glad to hear how very well every part (Heaven forefend,
bn
aia THR VOYAGE. ATAT, 2. [rts
except sea-sickness) of the expedition has answered, We
have already seen Teneriffe and the Great Canary ; St, Jago
where I spent three most delightful weeks, revelling in the
delights of first naturalising a tropical volcanic island, and
besides other islands, the two celebrated ports in the Brazils,
viz. Bahia and Rio,
1 was in my hammock till we arrived at the Canaries, and
I shall never forget the sublime impression the first view of
Teneriffe made on my mind. The first arriving into warm
weather was most luxuriously pleasant ; the clear blue sky of
the Tropics was no common change after those aceursed south-
‘west gales at Plymouth, About the Line it became weltering
hot. We spent one day at St. Paul's, a little group of rocks
about a quarter of a mile in cireurnference, peeping up in the
midst of the Atlantic. There was such a scene here. . Wick-
ham (rst Lieutenant) and I were the only two who landed
with guns and geological hammers, &e. The birds by myriads
were too close to shoot ; we then tried stones, but at last, prok
pudor? my geological hammer was the instrument of death.
We soon loaded the boat with birds and eggs. Whilst we
were $0 engaged, the men in the boat were fairly fighting
with the sharks for such magnificent fish as you could not see
in the London market. Our boat would have made a fine
subject for Snyders, such a medley of game it contained,
We have been here ten weeks, and shall now start for Monte
Video, when T look forward to many a gallop over the Pam-
pas, Tam ashamed of sending such a scrambling letter, but
if you were to sec the heap of lettera on my table you would
understand the reason, . . .
Tam glad to hear music flourishes so well in Cambridge;
but it [is] as barbarous to talk to me of “celestial concerts”
as to a person in Arabia of cold water. Ina voyage of this
sort, if one gains many new and great pleasures, on the other
side the loss is not inconsiderable, How should you like to
be suddenly debarred from seeing every person and place,
which you have ever known and loved, for five years? Ido
assure you I am occasionally “taken aback" by this reflece
rasa) MONTE VIDEO, 213
tion ; and then for man or ship it is not so easy to right again,
Remember me most sincerely to the remnant of most excel-
Jent fellows whom I have the good luck to know in Cambridge
—I mean Whitley and Watkins, Tell Lowe T am even be-
neath his contempt, Ican cat salt beef and musty biscuits
for dinner, Sce whata fall man may come to!
My direction for the next year and a half will be Monte
Video,
God bless you, my very dear old Herbert. May you al-
ways be happy and prosperous is my most cordial wish,
Yours affectionately,
Cuas, Danwix,
€. Darwin to F. Watkins,
Monte Video, River Plata,
August 18, 1932,
‘My pear Watkins,
T do not feel very sure you will think a letter from ane so
far distant will be worth having; I write therefore on the
selfish principle of getting an answer. In the different coun-
tries we visit the entire newness and difference from England
only serves to make more keen the recollection of its scenes
and delights. In consequence the pleasure of thinking of,
and hearing from one’s former friends, docs indeed become
great. Recollect this, and some long winter's evening sit
down and send me a long account of yourself and our friends ;
both what you have, and what [you] intend doing ; otherwise
in three or four more years when I return you will be all
strangers to me. Considering how many months have passed,
we have not in the Beagle made much way round the world,
Hitherto everything has well repaid the necessary trouble and
loss of comfort, We stayed three weeks at the Cape de Verds;
it was no ordinary pleasure rambling over the plains of lava
under a tropical sun, but when I frst entered on and beheld
the luxuriant vegetation in Braril, it was realizing the visions
in the ‘Arabian Nights.’ The brilliancy of the scenery
8
214 THE VOYAGE, AeTAT, 23. fs,
throws one into a delirium of delight, and a beetle hunter is
not likely soon to awaken from it, when whichever way ht
turns fresh treasures meet his eye. At Rio de Janeiro three
months passed away like so many weckk I made a most de-
lightful excursion during this time of 150 miles into the coun-
try. Istayed at an estate which is the Inst of the cleared
ground, behind is one vast impenetrable forest. It is almost
impossible to imagine the quietude of such a life, Nota
human being within some miles interrupts the solitude, To
seat oneself amidst the gloom of such a forest on a decaying
trunk, and then think of home, is a pleasure worth taking
some trouble for. .
We are at present in a much less interesting country,
One single walk over the undulatory turf plain shows every-
thing which is to be seen, It is not at all unlike Cambridge-
shire, only that every hedge, tree and hill must be levelled,
and arable land turned into pasture. All South America is
in such an unsettled state that we have not entered one port
without some sort of disturbance, At Buenos Ayres a shot
came whistling over our heads; it is a noise I had never
before heard, but I found I had an instinctive knowledge of
what it meant, The other day we landed our men here, and
took possession, at the request of the inhabitants, of the cen=
tral fort, We philosophers do not bargain for this sort of
work, and I hope there will be no more. We sail in the
course of a day ortwo to survey the coast of Patagonia ; as
it is entirely unknown, T expect a good deal af interest. But
already do I perceive the grievous difference between sailing
on these seas and the Equinoetial ocean, In the “ Ladies’
Gulf," as the Spaniard’s call it, it is so luxurious to sit on
deck and enjoy the coolness of the night, and admire the new
constellations of the South. . . . I wonder when we shall ever
meet again; but be it when it may, few things will give me
greater pleasure than to sce you again, and talk over the long
time we have passed together.
If you were to meet me at present I certainly should be
looked at like a wild beast, a great grizzly beard and flushing
193] PUEGIANS, 25
jacket would disfigure an angel. Believe me, my dear Wat-
Kins, with the warmest feelings of friendship,
Ever yours,
Cranes Darwin,
C. Darwin to J. S. Hensiow.
April 11, 1833.
My pear Hexstow,
We are now running up from the Falkland Islands to the
Rio Negro (or Colorado), ‘The eagle will proceed to Monte
Video; but if it can be managed I intend staying at the
former place. It is now some months since we have been at
4 civilised port; neatly all this time has been spent in the
most southern part of Tierra del Fuego. It is a detestable
place; gales succeed gales with such short intervals that it is
difficult to do anything. We were twenty-three days off
Cape Horn, and could by no means get to the westward.
‘The last and final gale before we gave up the attempt was
unusually severe. A sea stove one of the boats, and there
was so much water on the decks that every place was afloat;
nearly all the paper for drying plants is spoiled, and half of
this curious collection.
We at last ran into harbour, and in the boats got to,the
west by the inland channels, As I was one of this party I
was yery glad of it, With two boats we went about 300
miles, and thus I had an excellent opportunity of geologising
and seeing much of the savages. ‘The Fuegians are in a more
miserable state of barbarism than T had expected ever to
have seen a human being, In this inclement country they
are absolutely naked, and their temporary houses are like
what children make in summer with boughs of trees. Ido
not think any spectacle can be more interesting than the first
sight of man in his primitive wildness It is an interest
‘which cannot well be imagined until it is experienced. T
shall never forget this when entering Good Success Bay—
216 THE VOYAGE. AUTAT. 23. f8s3.
the yell with which a party received us. They were seated
on a rocky point, surrounded by the dark forest of beech; as
they threw their arms wildly round their heads, and their long
hair streaming, they seemed the troubled spirits of another
world, The climate in some respects is a curious mixture
of severity and mildness; as far as regards the animal king-
dom, the former character prevails; I have: in consequence
not added much to my collections.
‘The Geology of this part of Tierra del Fuego way, as ine
deed every place is, to me very interesting. ‘I'he country is
m-fossiliferous, and a common=place succession of gran-
itic rocks and slates; attempting to make out the relation
of cleavage, strata, &c., &c., was my chief amusement. The
mineralogy, however, of some of the rocks will, I think, .
be curious from their resemblance to those of volcanic
origin.
. * ° .
After leaving Tierra del Fuego we sailed to the Falklands.
T forgot to mention the fate of the Fuegians whom we took
back to their country. They had become entirely European
jin their habits and wishes, so much so that the younger one
had forgotten his own language, and their countrymen paid
Dut very little attention to them, We built houses for them
and planted gardens, but by the time we return again on our
passage round the Horn, I think it will be very doubtful how
much of their property will he left tunstolen.
. .. When I am sea-sick and miserable, it is one of my
highest consolations to picture the future when we again shall
be pacing together the roads round Cambridge. ‘That day
is a weary long way off. We have another cruise to make to
‘Tierra del Fuego next summer, and then our voyage round
the world will really commence. Captain Fitz-Roy has pur
chased a large schooner of 170 tons. In many respects it
will be a great advantage having a consort—perhaps it may
somewhat shorten our cruise, which I most cordially hope it
may. I trust, however, that the Coral Reefs and various ani-
mals of the Pacific may Keep up my resolution, Remember
ey] HOME LETTERS. a7
me most kindly to Mrs. Henslow and all other friends; T am
@ true lover of Alma Mater and all its inhabitants,
Believe me, my dear Henslow,
Your affectionate and most obliged friend,
Citaates Darwin.
C. Darwin te Miss C. Darwin,
Mallonado, Rio Plata, Muy 27, 1833,
« + + The following business piece is to my father, Hay-
ing a servant of my own would bea really great addition to
my comfort. For these two reasons: as at present the Cap=
tain has appointed one of the men always to be with me, but
Ido not think it just thus to take a seaman out of the ship;
and, secondly, when at sea Iam rather badly off for any one
fo wait on me. The man is willing to be my servant,
and all the expenses would be under £60 per annum, I
have taught him to shoot and skin birds, so that in my main
object he is very useful. [ have now left England nearly a
year and a half, and I find my expenses are not above £300
per annum ; 50 that, it being hopeless (from time) to write
for permission, I have come to the conclusion that you would
allow me this expense. But I have not yet resolved to ask
the Captain, and the chances are even that he would not be
willing to have an additional man in the ship, T have men-
tioned this because for a long time I have been thinking
about it,
Sone—1 have just received a bundle more letters, Ido
‘not know how to thank you all sufficiently. One from Cath=
erine, Feb. 8th, another from Susan, March 3rd, together with
notes from Caroline and from my father; give my best love
to my father. I almost cried for pleasure at receiving it; it
was very kind thinking of writing to me. My letters are both
few, short, and stupid in return for all yours; but I always
‘ease my conscience by considering the Journal as a long le
ter. If I can manage it, I will, before doubling the Horn,
send tke rest. I am quite delighted to find the hide of the
%
28 THE VOYAGE. TAT. 24. feiss.
Megatherium has given you all some little interest in my
employments, ‘These fragments are not, however, by any
means the most valuable of the geological relics, I trust
and believe that the time spent in this voyage, if thrown away
for all other respects, will produce its full worth in Natural
History ; and it appears to me the doing what dittle we can
to increase the general stock of knowledge is as respectable
an object of life as one can in any likelihood pursue. It is
more the result of such reflections (as { have already said)
than much immediate pleasure which now makes me con-
tinue the voyage, together with the glorious prospect of the
future, when passing the Straits of Magellan, we have in
truth the world before us. Think of the Andes, the luxuriant
forest of Guayaquil, the islands of the South Sea, and New
South Wales, How many magnificent and characteristic
views, how many and curious tribes of men we shall see!
What fine opportugities for geology and for studying the ins
finite host of living beings! Is not this a prospect to keep
up the most flagging spirit? If T was to throw it away, I
don't think I should ever rest quiet in my grave, I certainly
should be a ghost and haunt the British Museum,
How famously the Ministers appear to be going on, T
always much enjoy political gossip and what you at home
think will, &c,, &e, take place. T steadily read up the weekly
Paper, but it is not sufficient to guide one’s opinion ; and T
find it a very painful state not to be as obstinate as a pig in
politics. I have watched how steadily the general feeling,
as shown at elections, has been rising against Slavery. What
a proud thing for England if she is the first European nation
which utterly abolishes it! I was told before leaving England
that after living in slave eounteies all my opinions would be
altered ; the only altcration Iam aware of is forming a much
higher estimate of the negro character, It is impossible to
‘ste a negro and not feel kindly towards him; such cheerful,
open, honest expressions and such fine muscular bodies. I
never saw any of the diminutive Portuguese, with their mur-
derous countenances, without almost wishing for Brazil to
33] GOOD SUCCESS BAY. 219
follow the example of Hayti; and, considering the enormous
healthy-looking black population, it will be wonderful if, at
some future day, it does not take place. There is at Rioa
man (I know not his title) who has a large salary to prevent
(L believe) the landing of slaves; he lives at Botofogo, and
yet that was the bay where, during my residence, the greater
number of smuggled slaves were landed, Some of the Anti-
Slavery people ought to question about his office; it was the
subject of conversation at Rio amongst the lower English...
C. Darwin to J. M. Herbert.
Maldonado, Rio Plata, June 9, 1833.
My DEAR Herne,
T have been confined for the last three days to a miserable
dark room, in an old Spanish house, from the torrents of rai
Tam not, therefore, in very good trim for writing; but, defy-
ing the blue devils, I will send you a few lines, if it is merely
to thank you very sincerely for writing to me, I received
your letter, dated December rst, a short time since. We are
How passing part of the winter in the Rio Plata, after having
had a hard summer’s work to the south, Tierra del Fnego
is indeed a miserable place; the ceaseless fury of the gales
is quite tremendous. One evening we saw old Cape Hor,
and three weeks afterwards we were ooly thirty miles to wind=
ward of it, It is a grand spectacle to see all nature thus
raging; but Heaven knows every one in the Beagée has seen
enough in this one summer to last them their natural liges.
The first place we landed at was Good Success Bay. fe
was here Banks and Solander met such disasters on ascending
one of the mountains ‘The weather was tolerably fine, and
T enjoyed some walks in a wild country, like that behind Bare
mouth, The valleys are impenetrable from the entangled
woodls, but the higher parts, near the limits of perpetual sow,
are bare, From some of these hills the scenery, from its save
age, solitary character, was most sublime, ‘Ihe only inhabi-
tant of these heights is the guanaco, and with its shrill neigh
220 THE VOVAGE. ETAT. 24 Diss.
ing it often breaks the stillness. The consciousness that no
Furopenn foot had ever trod much of this ground added to
the delight of these rambles. How often and how vividly
have many of the houts spent at Barmouth come before my
mind! 1 look back to that time with no common pleasure ;
at this moment I can see you seated on the hill behind the
inn, almost as plainly as if you were really there. It is neces»
sary to be separated from all which one has been accus:
tomed to, to know how properly to treasure up such recollec-
tions, and at this distance, I may add, how properly to esteem
such as yourself, my dear old Herbert, I wonder when I
shall ever see you again. I hope it may be, as you say, sur=
rounded with heaps of parchment; but then there must be,
sooner or later, a dear little lady to take care of you and your
house, Such a delightful vision makes me quite envious.
‘This is a curious life for a regular shore-going person such as
myself; the worst part of it is its extreme length, There is
certainly a great deal of high enjoyment, and on the contrary
a tolerable share of vexation of spirit, Everything, however,
thall bend to the pleasure of grubbing up old bones, and cap-
tivating new animals. By the way, you rank my Natural
History labours far too high, I am nothing more than # lions’
provider: Edo not feel at all sure that they will not growl and
finally destroy me,
It does one’s heart good to hear how things are going on
in England. Hurrah for the honest Whigs! I trust they will
soon attack that monstrous stain on our boasted liberty, Colo-
nial Slivery, I have seen enough of Slavery and the dis-
positions of the negroes, to be thoroughly disgusted with the
lies and nonsense one hears on the subject in England,
‘Thank God, the cold-hearted Tories, who, as J. Mackintosh
used to say, have no enthusiasm, except against enthusiasm,
have for the present run their race. Iam sorry, by your let
ter, to hear you have not been well, and that you partly at-
tribute it to want of exercise. T wish you were here amongst
the green plains; we would take walks which would rival the
Dolgelly ones, and you should tell stories, which I would be-
3) ‘A NEW OSTRICH. 220
Tieve, even to a cubic fathom of pudding. Instead T must take
my solitary ramble, think of Cambridge days, and pick up
snakes, beetles and toads, Excuse this short letter (you
know I never studied ‘The Complete Letter-writer '), and be~
lieve me, my dear Herbert,
Your affectionate friend,
Cartes Darwin,
©. Darvin to J. S. Henstow.
East Falkland Island, March, 1844.
..... Lam quite charmed with Geology, but like the
wise animal between two bundles of hay, I do not know which
to like the best; the old crystalline group of rocks, or the
softer and fossiliferous beds. When puzzling about stratifi-
cations, &e,, I feel inclined to cry “a fig for your big oysters,
and your bigger megatheriums.” But then when digging out
some fine bones, 1 wonder how any man can tire his arma
with hammering granite. By the way I have not one clear
idea about cleavage, stratification, lines of upheaval, 1 have
no books which tell me much, and what they do I cannot
apply to what I see, Tn consequence T draw my own con=
clusions, and most gloriously ridicutous ones they are, f some-
times fancy, . . . Can you throw any light into my mind by
telling me what relation cleavage and planes of deposition
Dear to cach other?
‘And now for my second section, Zoology. 1 have chiefly
‘been employed in preparing myself for the South Sea by
examining the polypi of the smaller Corallines in these lati-
tudes. Many in themselves are very curious, and I think are
quite undescribed ; there was one appalling one, allied to a
Filustra, which I dare say I mentioned having found to the
northward, where the cells have « movable organ (like a vult-
uure’s head, with a dilatable beak), fixed on the edge, But
what is of more general interest is the unquestionable (as it
appears to me) existence of another species of ostrich, besides
the Struthio rhea, All the Gauchos and Indians state it is
the case, and I place the greatest faith in their observations
222 THE VOYAGE. ATAT. 38 TB
T have the head, neck, piece of skin, feathers, and legs of
one. The differences are chiefly in the colour of the feathers
and seales on legs, being feathered below the knees, nidifie
cation, and geographical distribution. So much for what I
have lately done; the prospect before me is full of sunshine,
fine weather, glorious scenery, the geology of the Andes, plains
abounding with organic remains (which perhaps I may have
the good luck to catch in the very act of moving), and lastly,
shores abounding with life, so that, if nothing
unforescen happens, [will stick to the voyage, although for
what I can see this may last till we return a fine set of white-
headed old gentlemen, I bave to thank you most cordially
for sending me the books, I am now reading the Oxford
*Report ;'* the whole account of your proceedings is most
glorious; you remaining in England cannot well imagine how
excessively interesting I find the reports, I am sure from
my own thrilling sensations when reading them, that they
cannot fail to have an excellent effect upon all those residing
in distant colonies, and who have little opportunity of seeing
the periodicals, My hammer has flown with redoubled force
on the devoted blocks: as I thought over the eloquence of
the Cambridge President, I hit harder and harder blows. 1
hope to give my arms strength for the Cordilleras, You will
send me through Capt, Beaufort a copy of the Cambridge
* Report.”
T have forgotten to mention that for some time past, and
for the future, I will put a pencil cross on the pill-boxes con-
taining insects, as these alone will requite being kept particu
larly dry; it may perhaps save you some trouble, When this
letter will go T do not know, as this little seat of discord has
lately been embroiled by a dreadful scene of murder, and at
present there are more prisoners than inhabitants, If a mere
chant vessel is chartered to take them to Rio, I will send
some specimens (especially my few plants and sceds). Re-
* The second meeting of the Hritish Association was held at Oxford in
1892, the following year it was at Cambridge
xu) JEMMY BUTTON. 223
member me to all my Cambridge friends, T love and treasure
up every recollection of dear old Cambridge. I am much
obliged to you for putting my name down to poor Ramsay's
monument; I never think of him without the warmest admi-
ration. Farewell, my dear Henslow.
Believe me your most obliged and affectionate friend,
Cnarces Darwn,
C, Darwin to Miss C. Darwin,
East Falkland Island, April 6, 1894.
Mv DEAR CaTuenixe,
When this letter will reach you T know not, but probably
some man-of-war will call here before, in the common course
of events, I should have another opportunity of writing.
. * . * .
After visiting some of the southern islands, we beat up
through the magnificent scenery of the Beagle Channel to
Jemmy Button’s* country. We could hardly recognise poor
Jemmy. Instead of the clean, well-dressed stout lad we left
him, we found him a naked, thin, squalid savage. York
and Fuegia had moved to their own country some months
ago, the former having stolen all Jemmy’s clothes, Now
he had nothing except a bit of blanket round his waist.
Poor Jemmy was very glad to see us, and, with his usual
good feeling, brought several presents (otter-skina, which are
most valuable to themselves) for his old friends, The Captain
offered to take him to England, but this, to our surprise, he
Al once refused, In the evening his young wife came along-
side and showed us the reason. He was quite contented,
Last year, in the height of his indignation, he said "his
country people no safe nothing—damned fools "—now they
were very good people, with ae much to eat, and all the
Tuxuries of life. Jemmy and his wife paddled away in their
*Jemmy Button, York Minster, ond Foegia Basket, were natives of
‘Tierra del Fucgo, brought to England hy Captain Fite-Roy in his former
‘Yoyaye, and restored. to their country by hinn in 1832.
224 THE VOYAGE, TAT. 25.
canoe loaded with presents, and very happy. ‘The most
curious thing is, that Jemmy, instead of recovering his own
language, has tanght all his friends a little English, "J. Bute
ton's canoe" and “Jemmy's wife come," “Give me knife,"
&c., was said by several of them.
We then bore away for this istand—this litle miserable
seat of discord. We found that the Gauchos, under pretence
of a revolution, had murdered and plundered all the English«
men whom they could catch, and some of their own country»
men. All the economy at home makes the foreign movements
of England most contemptible. How different from old Spain,
Here we, dog-in-the-manger fashion, seize an island, and leave
to protect it a Union Jack ; the possessor has, af course, been
murdered ; we now send a licutenant with four sailors, with-
out authority or instructions. A man-of-war, however, ven-
tured to leave a party of marines, and by their assistance, and
the treachery of some of the party, the murderers have all
been taken, there being now as many prisoners as inhabitants.
This island must some day become « very important halting-
place in the most turbulent sea in the world, It is mid-way
between Australia and the South Sea to England; between
Chili, Peru, &e., and the Rio Plata and the Rio de Janeiro.
‘There are fine harbours, plenty of fresh water, and good
beef. It would doubtless produce the coarser vegetables,
In other respects it is a wretched place. A little time since,
T rode across the island, and returned in four days. My ex-
cursion would have been longer, but during the whole time it
Dlew a gale of wind, with hail and snow. There is no fire
wood bigger than heath, and the whole country is, more or
less, an clastic peat-bog, Sleeping out at night was too
miserable work to endure it for all the rocks in South
America.
‘We shall leave this scene of iniquity in two or three days,
and go to the Rio de la Sta, Cruz, One of the objects is to
look at the ship's bottom. We struck rather heavily on an
unknown rock off Fort Desire, and some of her copperis torn
off. After this is repaired the Captain has a glorious scheme ;
847 PLANS. 225
it is to go to the very head of this river, that is probably to the
Andes. It is quite unknown; the Indians tell us it is two:
or three hundred yards broad, and horses can nowhere ford it,
Tcannot imagine anything more interesting. Our plans then
are to goto Fort Famine, and there we meet the Adventure,
who is employed in making the Chart of the Falklands. This
will be in the middle of winter, 90 I shall see Tierra del Fuego.
in her white drapery. We leave the straits to enter the
Pacific by the Barbara Channel, one very little known, and
which passes close to the foot of Mount Sarmiento (the high-
est tnountain in the south, excepting Mt.!! Darwin! !). We
‘then shall scud away for Concepcion in Chili. 1 believe the
ship must once again steer southward, but if any one catches
‘me there again, I will give him leave to hang me up as a
scarecrow for all future naturalists. I long to be at work in
the Cordilleras, the geology of this side, which T understand
pretty well is s0 intimately connected with periods of violence
in that great chain of mountains. The future is, indeed, to
‘mea brilliant prospect. You say its very brillianey frightens
you; but really Iam very careful; IT may mention as a proof,
in all my rambles 1 have never had any one accident or
scrape. . . , Continue in your good custom of writing plenty
‘of gossip; I much like hearing all about all things. Rememe
er me most kindly to Uncle Jos, and to all the Wedgwoods.
‘Tell Charlotte (their married names sound downright un-
natural) I should like to have written to her, to have told her
how well everything is going on; but it would only have been
& transcript of this letter, and I have a host of animals at this
minute surrounding me which all require embalming and
numbering. I have not forgotten the comfort I received that
day at Maer, when my mind was like a swinging pendulum,
Give my best love to my father. I hope he will forgive all
my extravagance, but not as a Christian, for then I suppose
he would send me no more money.
Good-bye, dear, to you, and all your goodly sisterhood,
Your affectionate brother,
Cias. Danwns.
Mi
226 THE VOVAGE. TAT, 25. Lie
‘My love to Nancy; tell her, if she was now to see me
with my great beard, she would think I was some worthy
Solomon, come to sell the trinkets.
C. Darwin to C. Whitley.
Valparaiso, July 23, 1
My bean Warreay, ee
J have long intended writing, just to put you in mind that
there is acertain hunter of beetles, and pounder of rocks:
still in existence. Why 1 have not done so before I know
not, but it will serve me right if you have quite forgotten me.
It isavery long time since I have heard any Cambridge news;
neither know where you are living or what you are doing.
saw your name down as one of the indefatigable guardians
of the eighteen hundred philosophers. I was delighted to
see this, for when we last left Cambridge you were at sad
variance with poor science; you seemed to think her a public
prostitute working for popularity. If your opinions are the
same as formerly, you would agree most admirably with
Captain Fitz-Roy,—the object of his most devout abhorrence
is one of the d—d scientific Whigs, As captains of men-of-
war are the greatest men going, far greater than kings or
schoolmasters, I am obliged to tell him everything in my own
favour, T have often said T once had a very good friend, an
out-and-out Tory, and we managed to get on very well to~
gether, But he is very much inclined to doubt if ever I really
was so much honoured; at present we hear scarcely anything
about politics; this saves a great deal of trouble, for we all
stick to our former opinions rather more obstinately than be-
fore, and ean give rather fewer reasons for doing $0,
Ido hope you will write to me: (‘H, M.S Beagle, S.
American Station “will find me), 1 should much like to hear
in what state you are both in bodyand mind. 4 Quiém Sabet
as the people say here (and God knows they well may, for
*
old nurse.
1834) A NAKED FUEGIAN, 227
they do know little enough), if you are not a married man,
and may be nursing, as Miss Austen says, little olive branches,
little pledges of mutual affection. Eheu! Eheu! this puts
me in mind of former visions of glimpses into futurity, where
I fancied 1 saw retirement, green cottages, and white petti-
coats. What will become of me hereafter I know not; 1 feel
like a ruined man, who does not see or care how to extricate
hitaself, ‘That this voyage must come to a conclusion my
reason tells me, but otherwise I see no end to it. Tt is im-
possible not bitterly to regret the friends and other sources of
pleastire one leaves behind in England; in place of it there
is much solid enjoyment, some present, but more in anticipa:
tion, when the ideas gained during the voyage can be com-
pared to fresh ones. I find in Geology a never-failing interest,
as ithas been remarked, it creates the same grand ideas re~
specting this world which Astronomy does for the universe.
We have seen much fine scenery; that of the Tropics in its
wlory and luxuriance exceeds even the language of Humboldt
to describe, A Persian writer could alone do justice to it,
and if he succeeded he would in England be called the * Grand-
father of all liars.’
But T have scen nothing which more completely aston
ished me than the first sight of m savage. It was a naked
Fuegian, his long hair blowing about, his face besmeared
with paint. There is in their countenances an expression
which I believe, to those who have not seen must be in-
conceivably wild, Standing on a rock he uttered tones and
made gesticulations, than which the cries of domestic animals
are far more intelligible.
When f return to England, you must take me in hand
with respect to the fine arts. I yet recollect there was a
fan called Raffaelle Sanctus. How delightful it will be
‘once again to sec, in the Fitzwilliam, Titian's Venus, How
much more than delightful to go to some good concert or
fine opera. These recollections will not do, I shall not be
able to-morrow to pick out the entrails of some small animal
with half my usual gusto. Pray tell me some news about
(ia
228 THE VOYAGE. ATAT. a5. (ee
Cameron, Watkins, Marindin, the two Thompsons of Trinity,
Lowe, Heaviside, Matthew, Herbert I have heard from,
How is Henslow getting on? and all other good friends of
dear Cambridge? Often and often do I think over those
past hours, so many of which have been passed in your com-
pany. Such can never return, but their recollection can
never die away.
God bless you, my dear Whitley,
Believe me, your most sincere friend,
Cras, Darwin,
C. Darwin to Miss C. Darvin.
Valparaiso, November 8, 1834.
My Dear CATHERINE,
‘My last letter was rather a gloomy one, for { was not
very well when I wrote it, Now everything is as bright as
sunshine, Iam quite well again after being a second time in
bed for a fortnight. Captain FitzRoy very gencrously has
delayed the ship ten days on my account, and without at the
time telling me for what reason.
We have had some strange proceedings on board the
Beagle, but which have ended most capitally for all hands,
Captain Fitz-Roy has for the last two months been working
extremely hard, and at the same time constantly annoyed by
interruptions from officers of other ships; the selling the
schooner and its consequences were very vexatious; the cold
manner the Admiralty (solely I believe because he is a Tory)
have treated him, and a thousand other, &e, &c,'s, has made
him very thin and unwell, ‘This was accompanied by a
morbid depression of spirits, and a loss of all decision and
resolution. . . . All that Bynoe [the Surgeon] could say, that
it was merely the effect of bodily health and exhaustion after
such application, would not do; he invalided, and Wickham
was appointed tothe command. By the instructions Wickham
could only finish the survey of the southern part, and would
then have been obliged to return direct to England. The
1834.) ‘CAPTAIN FITZ-ROV, 229
grief on board the Avag/e about the Captain's decision was
universal and deeply fell ; one great source of his annoyment
was the feeling it impossible to fulfil the whole instruc
tions; from his state of mind it never occurred to him that
the very instructions ordered him to do as much of the
West coust as fe fas time for, and then proceed across the
Pacific.
Wickham (very disinterestedly giving up his own promo-
tion) urged this most strongly, stated that when he took the com-
mand nothing should induce him to go to Tierra del Fuego
again ; and then asked the Captain what would be gained by
his resignation? why not do the more useful part, and return
a commanded by the Pacific, The Captain at last, to
every one's joy, consented, and the resignation was with
drawn.
Hurrah! hurrah! it is fixed the Bragle shall not go one
mile south of Cape Tres Montes (about 200 miles south of
Chiloe), and from that point to Valparaiso will be finished in
aboutfive months. We shall examine the Chonos Archipelago,
entirely unknown, and the curious inland sca behind Chiloe.
For me it is glorious. Cape Tres Montes is the most soutliern
point where there is much geological interest, as there the
modern beds end. The Captain then talks of crossing the
Pacific; but I think we shall persuade him to finish the Coast
of Peru, where the climate is delightful, the country hideously
sterile, but abounding with the highest interest to & geologist,
For the first time since leaving England I now see a clear and
hot so distant prospect of returning to you all: crossing
the Pacific, and from Sydney home, will not take much
time,
As soon ns the Captain invalided T at once determined to
leave the Beag/e, but it was quite absurd what a revolution in
five minutes was effected in all my feelings, I have long been
grieved and: most sorry at the interminable length of the
voyage (although I never would have quitted ir); but the
minute it was all over, T could not make up my mind to return.
Teould not give up all the geological castles in the air which
a
230 THE VOYAGE, ACTAT. 25. * Lise
Thad been building up for the last two yeark. One whole
night I tried to think over the pleasure of seeing Shrewsbury
again, but the barren plains of Peru gained the day, I made
the following scheme (I know you will abuse me, and perhaps
if IE had put it in execution, my father would have sent a
mandamus after me); it was to examine the Cordilleras of
Chili during this summer, and in winter go from port to port
‘on the coast of Peru to Lima, returning this time next year to
Valparaiso, cross the Cordilleras to Ruenos Ayres, and take
ship to England. Would not this have been a fine excursion,
and in sixteen months [ should have been with you all? To
have endured Tierra del Fuego and not seen the Pacific would
have been miserable.
© Tgo on board to-morrow ; I have been for the last six
weeks in Corfield’s house. You cannot imagine what a kind
friend I have found him. He is universally liked, and re-
spected by the natives and foreigners. Several Chileno Sig-
noritas are very obligingly anxious to become the signoras of
this house, ‘Tell my father { have kept my promise of being
extravagant in Chili, Ihave drawn a bill of £100 (had it not
better be notified to Messrs. Robarts & Co.); £50 goes to
the Captain for the ensuing year, and £30 I take to sea for the
small ports; 50 that Jond jide I have not spent £80 during
these last four months. I hope not to draw another bill for
six months, All the foregoing particulars were only settled
yesterday. Ithasdone me more good than a pint of medi-
cine, and I have not been so happy for the last year, If it
had not been for my illness, these four months in Chili would
have been very pleasant T have had ill tuck, however, in
only one little earthquake having happened. I was lying in
bed when there was a party at dinner in the house ; on a
sudden I heard such a hubbub in the dining-room ; without
aword being spoken, it was devil take the hindmost who
should get out first ; at the same moment I felt my bed sljgAtly
vibrate in a lateral direction. The party were old stagers,
and heard the noise which always precedes a shock ; and no
old stager looks at an earthquake with philosophical eyes. . . «
855) ‘THE ANDES. 230
Good-bye to you all; you will not have another letter for
some time,
My dear Catherine,
Yours affectionately,
Cuas, Danwiw.
My best love to my father, and all of you, Love to Nancy,
C. Darwin to Mist S, Darwin,
Valparsiso, April 23, 18
Mv pmar Susan, Se cae
T received, a few days since, your letter of November;
the three letters which I before mentioned are yet missing
‘but f do not doubt they will come to life. I returned a week
ago from my excursion across the Andes to Mendoza, Since
Jeaving England T have never made so successful a journey 3
ithas, however, been very expensive, I am sure my father
would not regret it, if he could know how deeply I have en-
joyed it: it was something more than enjoyment; I cannot
‘express the delight which I felt at such a famous winding-up
of all my geology in South America, 1 literally could hardly
slecp at nights for thinking over my day’s work. The scenery
‘was so new, and so majestic: everything at an elevation of
ta,000 feet bears so different an aspect from that ina lower
country. I have seen many views more beautiful, but none
with a0 strongly marked a character. ‘To a geologist, also,
there are such manifest proofs of excessive violence; the
strata of the highest pinnacles are tossed about like the crust
of a broken pic.
Terossed by the Portillo Pass, which or this time of the
year is apt to be dangerous, so could not afford to delay
there, After staying a day in the stupid town of Mendoza, T
Began my return by Uspallate, which I did very leisurely.
My whole trip only took up twenty-two days. I travelled
with, for me, uncommon comfort, as I carried a bed!) My
party consisted of two Peons and ten mules, two of which
were with baggage, or rather fuotl, in case of being snowed
up. Everything, however, favoured me; not even a speck of
_
232 THE VOYAGE. ETAT. 26. Pass
this year’s snow had fallen on the road. T do not suppose
any of you can be much interested in geological details, but
1 will just mention my principal results :—Besides under-
standing to a certain extent the description and manner of
the force which has elevated this great line of mountains,
Tean clearly demonstrate that one part of the double line is
of an age long posterior to the other. In tha more ancient
line, which is the true chain of the Andes, 1 can describe the
sort and order of the rocks which compose it. These are
chiefly remarkable by containing a bed of gypsum nearly
2000 feet thick—a quantity of this substance I should think
unparalleled in the world. What is‘of much greater conse=
quence, I have procured fossil shells (from an clevation of
12,000 fect). 1 think an examination of these will give an
approximate age to these mountains, as compared to the
strata of Europe. In the other line of the Cordilleras there
is a strong presumption (in my own mind, conviction) that
the enormous mass of mountains, the peaks of which rise to
13,000 and 14,000 fect, are so very modern as to be con=
temporancous with the plains of Patagonia (or about with
the upper strata of the Isle of Wight). If this result shall be
considered as proved,® it is a very important fact in the theory
‘of the formation of the world; because, if such wonderfal
changes have taken place so recently in the crust of the globe,
there can be no reason for supposing former epochs of ex.
cessive violence, “These modern strata are very remarkable
By being threaded with metallic veins of silver, gold, copper,
jitherto these have been considered as appertaining to
ae formations, In these same beds, and close to a gold-
mine, I found a clump of petrified trces, standing upright,
with layers of fine sandstone deposited round them, bearing
the impression of their bark. These trees are covered by
other sandstones and streams of lava to the thickness of sev-
eral thousand feet. ‘These rocks have been deposited be-
* The importance of these results has been Fully recegnieed by geokoe
git,
855) LIMA. 233
neath water; yet it is clear the spot where the trees grew
‘must once have been above the level of the sea, so that it is
certain the Ind must have been depressed by at least x
many thousand feet as the superincutbent subaqueous de-
posits are thick, But 1 am afraid you will tell me I am prosy
with my geological descriptions and theories, .
Your account of Erasmus” visit to Cambridge has made
me long to be back there. f cannot fancy anything more de-
Tightful than his Sunday round of King’s, Trinity, and those
talking giants, Whewell and Sedgwick ; I hope your musical
tastes continue in due force. 1 shall be ravenous for the
pianoforte... .
Thave not quite determined whether I will sleep at the
‘Lion ' the first night when I arrive per ‘ Wonder,’ or disturb
you all in the dead of the night; everything short of that is
absolutely planned. Everything about Shrewsbury is growing
in my mind bigger and more beautifal; I am certain the
acacia and copper beech are two superb trees; I shall know
‘every bush, and I will trouble you young ladies, when cach
‘of you cut down your tree, to spare afew, As for the view
behind the house, I have seen nothing like it. It is the same
with North Wales ; Snowdon, to my mind, looks much higher
and much more beautiful than any peak in the Cordilleras,
So you will say, with my benighted {aculties, it is time to re~
turn, and so it is, and [long to be with you, Whatever the
trees are, 1 know what T shall find all you. € am writing
nonsense, so farewell. My most affectionate love to all, and
T pray forgiveness from my father.
Yours most affectionately,
Cuanies Darwin,
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
‘Linwa, Joly, #835.
My prar Fox,
T haye lately received two of your letters, one dated June
amd the other November, 1834 (they reached me, however,
in an inverted order). I was very glad to receive a history
16
234 THE VOYAGE. ASTAT. 26 Lass.
of this most important year in your life, Previously I had
only heard the plain fact that you were married, You are a
trac Christian and return good for evil, ta send two such let-
ters to so bad a correspondent as I have been. God bless
you for writing so kindly and affectionately ; if it is a pleas-
ure to have friends in England, it is doubly so to think and
know that one is not forgotten because absent, This voyage
is terribly long. I do so earnestly desire to return, yet I dare
hardly look forward to the future, for T do not know what
will become of me. Your situ: is above envy: I do not
venture even to frame such happy visions. To a person fit to
tuke the office, the life of a clergyman is a type of all that is
respectable and happy, You tempt me by talking of your
fireside, whereas it isa sort of scene 1 never ought to think
about. I saw the other day a vessel sail for England; it was
quite dangerous to know how easily I might turn deserter.
‘As for an English lady, I have almost forgotten what she is—
something very angelic and good, As for the women in these
countries, they wear caps and petticoats, and a very few have
pretty faces, and then all is said. But if we are not wrecked
‘on some unlucky reef, I will sit by that same fireside in Vale
Cottage and tell some of the wonderful stories, which you
seem to anticipate and, T presume, are not very ready to be=
lieve, Gracias a dios, the prospect of such times is rather
shorter than formerly.
From this most wretched ‘ City of the Kings’ we sail in
a fortnight, from thence (o Guayaquil, Galapagos, Marquesas,
Society Islands, &c., &c, I look forward to the Galapagos
with more interest than any other part of the voyage. They
abound with active voleanoes, and, T should hope, contain
‘Tertiary strata. Iam glad to hear you have some thoughts
of beginning Geology. I hope you will; there is so much
larger @ field for thought than in the other branches of Nat~
ural History, Iam become a zealous disciple of Mr. Lyell’s
views, as known in his admirable book. Geologising in South
America, T am tempted to carry parts to a greater extent
even than he does, Geology is a capital science to begin, as
iy] TANITE, 238
it requires nothing but a little reading, thinking, and hammer
“ing, Ihave a considerable body of notes together ; but it is
aconstant subject of perplexity to me, whether they are of
sufficient value for all the time I have spent about them,
cor whether animals would not have been of more certain
value,
I shalll indeed be glad once again to see you and tell you
how grateful I feel for your steady friendship. God bless
you, my very dear Fox.
Believe me,
Yours affectionately,
Citas, Danwins
C. Darwin © J. S. Henslow.
Sydney, Jan /, 18:
My peAR Henstow, pas ia
This is the tast opportunity of communicating with you
before thut joyful day when I shall reach Cambridge, I have
very little to say: but I must write if it is only to express
my Joy that the last year is concluded, and that the present
‘one, in which the Beagle will return, is gliding onwards. We
have all been disappointed here in not finding even a single
letter; we are, indeed, rather before our expected time,
otherwise, I dare say, I should have seen your handwriting.
T must feed upon the future, and it is beyond bounds de-
lightful to feel the certainty that within eight months 1 shall
be residing once again most quietly in Cambridge. Cer
tainly, I never was intended for a traveller; my thoughts
are always rambling over past or future scones; T cannot
enjoy the present happiness for anticipating the future, which
is about as foolish as the dog who dropped the real bone for
its shadow.
: . . * .
In our passage across the Pacific we only touched at
‘Tahiti and New Zealand ; at neither of these places or at sea
had I much opportunity of working. Tahiti i# a most charm~
ing spot. Everything which former navigators have written
236 THE VOYAGE. ETAT. 26, [r836.
is true. ‘A new Cytherea has risen from the ocean.’ De+
licious scenery, climate, manners of the people are all in har-
mony. It is, moreover, admirable to behold what the mis-
sionaries both here and at New Zealand have effected. 1
firmly believe they are good men working for the sake of a
good cause. Imuch suspect that those who have abused or
ancered at the missionaries have generally been such as were
not very anxious to find the natives moral and intelligent
beings. During the remainder of our voyage we shall only
visit places generally acknowledged as civilised, and nearly
all under the British fag, These will be a poor field for
Natural History, and without it I have lately discovered that
the pleasure of seeing new places is as nothing I must
return to my old resource and think of the future, but that T
may not become more prosy, I will say farewell till the day
arrives, when I shall see my Master in Natural History,
and can téll him how grateful I feel for his kindness and
friendship,
Believe me, dear Henslow,
Ever yours, most faithfully,
Cras. Darwin,
©. Darwin to Miss S. Darwin,
Babia, Brazil, August 4 [1896].
My DEAR Susay,
I will just write a few lines to explain the cause of this
letter being dated on the coast of South America, Some
singular disagreements in the longitudes made Captain Fitz
Roy anxious to complete the circle in the southern hemi-
sphere, and then retrace our steps by our first line to England.
This zigzag manner of proceeding is very grievous; it has
put the finishing stroke to aty feelings. I loathe, I abhor the
sea and all ships which sail on it, But T yet believe we shall
reach England in the latter half of October. At Ascension
I received Catherine's letter of October, and yours of Novem-
ber; the letter at the Cape was of a later date, but letters of
all sorts are inestimable treasures, and I thank you both for
1836.) BAHIA. 237
them, ‘The desert, volcanic rocks, and wild sea of Ascension,
as soon as I knew there was news from home, suddenly wore
a pleasing aspect, and 1 set to work with a good-will at my
‘old work of Geology. You would be surprised to know how
entirely the pleasure in arriving at a new place depends on
letters. We only stayed four days at Ascension, and then
made a very good passage to Bahia.
Tittle thought to have put my foot on South American
coast again, It has been almost painful to find how much
good enthusiasm has been evaporated during the last four
years, I can now walk soberly through a Brazilian forest;
not but what it is exquisitely beautiful, but now, instead of
secking for splendid contrasts, { compare the stately mango
trees with the horse-chestnuts of England. Although this
zigzag has lost us at least a fortnight, in some respects 1 am
glad of it, 1 think I shall be able to carry away one vivid
picture of inter-tropical scenery. We go from hence to the
Cape de Verds; that is, if the winds or the Equatorial calms
will allow us, E have some faint hopes that a steady foul
wind might induce the Captain to proceed direct to the
Azores. For which most untoward event I heartily pray.
Both your leiters were full of good news; especially the
expressions which you tell me Professor Sedgwick used about
my collections, I confess they are deeply geatifying—I trust
‘one part at least will turn out truc, and that J shall act as
now think—as a man who dares to waste one hour of time
has not discovered the value of life, Professor Sedgwick men-
tioning my name at all gives me hopes that he will assist me
with his advice, of which, in my geological questions, I stand
much in need. It is useless to tell you from the shameful
state of this scribble that I am writing against time, having
been out all morning, and now there are some strangers on
hoard to whom I must go down and talk civility. Moreover,
as this letter goes by a foreign ship, it is doubtful whether it
will ever arrive, Farewell, my very dear Susan and all of you,
Good-bye,
C, Danwix,
\
238 THE VOYAGE, TAT, L336.
C. Darwin to J. 8. Hensler.
St. Helena, July g, 1836.
My prar Hexstow,
1 am going to ask you to do me a favour, I am very
anxious to belong to the Geological Society. I do not know,
but I suppose it is necessary to be proposed some time he-
fore being ballotted for; if such is the case, would you be
good enough to take the proper preparatory steps? Professor
Sedgwick very kindly offered to propose me before leaving
England, if he should happen to be in London, I dare say
he would yet do so.
T have very little to write about, We have neither seen,
done, or heard of anything particular for a long time past;
and indeed if at present the wonders of another planet could
be displayed before us, 1 believe we should unanimously
exclaim, what a consummate plague, No schoolboys ever
sung the half sentimental and half jovial strain of ‘dulce
domum ' with more fervour, than we all feel inclined to do.
But the whole subject of ‘dulce domum,’ and the delight of
seeing one’s friends, is most dangerous, it must infallibly make
one very prosy or very boisterous. Oh, the degree to which
T long to be once again living quietly with not one single
novel object near me! No one can imagine it till he has
been whirled round the world during five long years in a
ten-gun-brig. Tam at present living in a small house (amongst
the clouds) in the centre of the island, and within stone's
throw of Napoleon's tomb. It is blowing a gale of wind with
heavy rain and wretchedly cold; if Napoleon's ghost haunts
his dreary place of confinement, this would be a most excel.
lent night for such wandering spirits. If the weather chooses
to permit me, T hope to see a little of the Geology (so often
pattially described) of the island, I suspect that differently
from most volcanic islands its structure is rather complicated.
It scems strange that this little centre of a distinct craton
should, as is asserted, bear marks of recent clevation.
‘The Beagle proceeds from this place to Ascension, then to
1836.) SIR J. HERSCHEL. 239
the Cape de Verds (what miserable places !) to the Azores to
Plymouth, and then to home, That most glorious of sil days
in my life will not, however, arrive till the middle of October,
Some time in that month you will see me at Cambridge,
where I must directly come to report myself to you, as my
first Lord of the Admiralty. At the Cape of Good Hope we
all on board suffered a bitter disappointment in missing nine
months’ letters, which ae chasing us from one side of the
globe to the other. I dare say amongst them there was a
letter from you; it is long since I have seen your hand-
writing, but T shall soon see you yourself, which is far better.
‘As Tam your pupil, you are bound to undertake the task of
criticising and scolding me for all the things ill done and not
done at all, which I fear I shall need much ; but f hope for
the best, and I am sure I have a good if not too casy task-
master,
‘At the Cape Captain Fite-Roy and myself enjoyed a mem-
orable piece of good fortune in meeting Sir J. Herschel. We
dined at his house and saw him a few times besides, He
was exceedingly good natured, but his manners at first ap-
peared to me rather awful. He is living in a very comfortae
ble country house, surrounded by fir and oak trees, which
alone in so open a country, give # most charming air of seclu-
- sion and comfort, He appears to find time for everything ;
he showed usa pretty garden full of Cape bulbs of his own
‘collecting, and I afterwards understood that everything was
the work of his own hands. .. . Lam very stupid, and I have
nothing more to say; the wind is whistling so mournfully
‘over the bleak hills, that I shall go to bed and dream of
England.
Good night, my dear Henslow,
Yours most truly obliged and affectionately,
Cuas, Darwin.
240 THE VOYAGE. STAT. 27. [ray6.
© Darwin to J. 8, Henslew,
Shrewsbury, Thursday, October 6, [1856].
My DEAR Henstow,
Tam sure you will congratulate me on the delight of once
again being home. The Beagle arrived at Falmouth on Sun=
day evening, and I reached Shrewsbury yesterday morning.
Tam exceedingly anxious to see you, and as it will be neces~
sary in four or five days to return to London to get my goods
and chattels out of the Heagie, it appears to me my best plan
to pass through Cambridge. I want your advice on many
points; indeed I am in the clouds, and neither know what
to do or where to go, My chief puzzle is about the geolog!-
cal specimens—who will have the charity to help me in de-
scribing their mineralogical nature? Will you be kind enough
to write to me one line by return of post, saying whether
you are now at Cambridge? I am doubtful ull I hear from
Captain Fitz-Roy whether I shall not be obliged to start be-
fore the answer can arrive, but pray try the chance, My
dear Henslow, I do long to see you; you have been the kindest
friend to me that ever man possessed, I can write no more,
for I am giddy with joy and confusion
Farewell for the present,
Yours most truly obliged,
Cuaries DARWIN,
©. Darwin to R. Fits-Roy.
Shrewsbury, Thurwlay morning, October 6, (1846).
My pear Frrz-Roy,
T arrived here yesterday morning at breakfast-time, and,
thank God, found all my dear good sisters and father quite
well, My father appears more cheerful and very little older
than when I left, My sisters assure me I do not look the
least different, and I am able to return the compliment. In-
deed, all England appears changed excepting the good old
tBy] HOME, 241
town of Shrewsbury and its inhabitants, which, for all I can
see to the contrary, may go on as they now are to Doomsday.
I wish with all my heart I was writing to you amongst your
friends instead of at that horrid Plymouth. But the day will
soon come, and you will be as happy as I now am. I do
assure you I ama very great man at home; the five years”
voyage has certainly raised me a hundred per cent, I fear
‘such greatness must experience 2 fall.
1am thoroughly ashamed of myself in what a dead-and-
half-alive state I spent the few last days on board; my only
excuse {s that certainly Twas not quite well, The first day
in the mail tired me, but as I drew nearer to Shrewsbury
everything looked more beautiful and cheerful. In passing
Gloucestershire and Worcestershire I wished much for you
to adinire the ficlds, woods, and orchards. ‘The stupid people
on the coach did not scem to think the fields one bit greener
than usual; but Tam sure we should have thoroughly agreed
that the wide world does not contain #0 happy a prospect
as the rich cultivated land of England,
T hope you will not forget to send me a note telling me
how you go on. J do indeed hope all your vexations and
trouble with respect to our voyage, which we now know 1148
an end, have come toaclose. If you do not receive much
satisfaction for all the mental and bodily energy you have
expended in His Majesty's service, you will be most hardly
treated, I put my radical sisters into an upeoar at some of
the prudent (if they were not honest Whigs, I would say
shabby) proceedings of our Government. By the way, I must
tell you for the honour and glory of the family that my father
has a large engraving of King George IV. put up in his
sitting-room. But T am no renegade, and by the time we
meet my politics will be as firmly fixed and as wisely founded
as ever they were.
T thought when I began this letter T would convince you
what a steady and sober frame of mind I was in. Bat I find
Tam writing most precious nonsense. ‘Two or three of our
Tabourers yesterday immediately set to work and got most
—
242 THE VOYAGE, TAT, 27, [eiy6,
excessively drunk in honour of the arrival of Master Charles,
Who then shall gainsay if Master Charles himself chooses to
make himself a fool, Good-bye. God bless you! I hope
you are as happy, but much wiser, than your most sincere but
unworthy philosopher,
Cas Danwiy.
CHAPTER VII.
LONDON AND CAMMRIDGE,
1836-1842,
[THe period illustrated by the following letters includes
the years between my father’s return from the voyage of
the eagle and his settling at Down. It is marked by the
gradual appearance of that weakness of health which ulti-
mately forced him to leave London and take up his abode
for the rest of his life in a quiet country house. Tn June,
1841, he writes to Lyell: " My father scarcely seems to ex-
peet that I shall become strong for some years; it has been
a bitter mortification for me to digest the conclusion that the
“race is for the strong,’ and that T shall probably do little
more but be content to admire the strides others make in
science.”
‘There is no evidence of any intention of entering a profes-
sion after his return from the voy
wrote to Fite-Roy ; “I have nothing to wish for, excepting
stronger health to go on with the subjects to which I have
jayfully determined to devote my life.”
These two conditions—permanent ill-health and a passion-
ate love of scientific work for its own sake—determined thus
early in his carcer, the character of his whole future life. ‘They
impelled him to lead a retired life of constant labour, earried
‘on to the utmost limits of his physical power, a life which
signally falsified his melancholy prophecy.
The end of the last chapter saw my father safely arrived
244 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. 4STAT. 27.
at Shrewsbury on October 4, 1836, “after an absence of five
years and two days." He wrote to Fox; “You cannot
imagine how gloriously delightful my first visit was at home ;
is was worth the banishment.” But it was a pleasure that
he could not long enjoy, for in the last days of October he
was at Greenwich unpacking specimens from the Beagle. As
to the destination of the collections he writes, somewhat de-
spondingly, to Henslow :—
“I have not made much progress with the great men.
1 find, as you told me, that they are all overwhelmed with
their own business, Mr. Lyell has entered, in the must good~
natured manner, and almost without being asked, inte all my
plans. He tells me, however, the same story, that I must do
all myself. Mr. Owen seems anxious to dissect some of the
animals in spirits, and, besides these two, 1 have scarcely met
any one who scems to wish to possess any of my specimens.
T must except Dr, Grant, who is willing to examine some of
the corallines. I see it is quite unreasonable to hope fora
minute that any man will undertake the examination of a
whole order. It is clear the collectors so much outnumber
the real naturalists that the latter have no time to spare. *
“I do not even find that the Collections care for receiving
the unnamed specimens. The Zoological Museum * is nearly
full, and upwards of a thousand specimens remain unmounted.
T dare say the British Museum would receive them, but I can«
not feel, from all T hear, any great respect even for the pres-
ent state of that establishment, Your plan will be not only
the best, but the only one, namely, to come down to Cam=
bridge, arrange and group together the different families, and
then wait ull people, who are already working in different
branches, may want specimens. But it appears to me [that]
to do this it will be almost necessary to reside in London.
As far as I can yet see my best plan will be to spend several
months in Cambridge, and then when, by your assistance, E
= The Museum of the Zoological Society, then at 53 Druton Street
The collection was some years Jater Lroken up and dispersed.
ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 245
know on what ground I stand, to emigrate to London, where
T can complete my Geology and try to push on the Zoology.
T assure you I grieve to find how many things make me sec
the necessity of living for some time in this dirty, odious
London. For even in Geology I suspect much assistance
‘and communication will be necessary in this quarter, for in~
stance, iz fossil bones, of which none excepting the fragments
of Megatherium have been looked at, and I clearly see that
without my presence they never would be.
“T only wish f had known the Botaniats cared so much
for specimens * and the Zoologists so little ; the proportional
number of specimens in the two branches should have had
avery different appearance. I am out of patience with the
Zoologists, not because they are overworked, but for their
mean, quarrelsome spirit, Iwent the other evening to the
Zoological Society, where the speakers were snarling at each
other ina manner anything but like that of gentlemen, ‘Thank
Heavens ! as long as I remain in Cambridge there will not be
any danger of falling into any such contemptible quarrels,
whilst in London I do not see how it is to be avoided. Of
the Naturalists, F. Hope is out of London ; Westwood I have
‘not seen, 80 about my insects I know nothing. I have seen
Mr, Yarrell twice, but he is so evidently oppressed with busi-
ness that it is too sclfish to plague him with my concerns,
He has asked me to dine with the Linnean on Tuesday, and
‘on Wednesday I dine with the Geological, so that I shall see
all the great men, Mr. Bell, 1 hear, is so much occupied
that there is no chance of his wishing for specimens of rep-
* A parnge in a subsequent letter shows that his plants also gave him
some anxiety. “I met Mr. Brown a few days after you had called on bia:
he asked me in rather an ominows manner what T meant to do with my
plants In the course of conversation Mr. Broderip, who war present, re-
marked to him,* You forget how long it 4s since Captain King’s expedle
tion.’ He answered, * Indeed, £ have something tw the shape of Captain
Kings’ uodescribed plants to make me recollect it’ Could a better reason
be given, if I had been asked, by me, for not giving the plants to the Brite
ish Museum?”
246 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE TAT. 27.
tiles, I have forgotten to mention Mr. Lonsdale,* who gave
me a most cordial reception, and with whom T had much most
interesting conversation. If I was not much more inclined
for geology than the other branches of Natural History, I am
sure Mr, Lyell’s and Lonsdale’s kindness ought to fix me,
You cannot conceive anything more thoroughly good-natured
than the hearteand-soul manner in which he put himself in
my place and thought what would be best to do, At first he
was all for London versus Cambridge, but at last I made him
confess that, for some time at least, the latter would be for
me much the best, ‘There is not another soul whom 1 could
ask, excepting yourself, to wade through and criticise some
of those papers which T have left with you. Mr. Lyell owned
that, second to London, there was no place in England so
good fora Naturalist as Cambridge, Upon my word I am
ashamed of writing so many foolish details; no young lady
ever described her first ball with more particularity
A few days later he writes more cheerfully : “I became
acquainted with Mr. Bell, | who to my surprise expressed
good deal of interest about my crustacea and reptiles, and
seems willing to work at them, I also heard that Mr. Broderip
would be glad to look over the South American shells, 30 that
things flourish well with me.”
About his plants he writes with characteristic openness as
to his own ignorance: “You have made me known sinongst
the botanists, but I felt very foolish when Mr. Don remarked
on the beautiful appearance of some plant with an astounding
long name, and asked me about its habitation, Some one
else seemed quite surprised that T knew nothing about a Carex
* William Lonsdale, b. 2798, 4. 1871, was originally in the army, and
served ot the battles of Salamanca and Waterloo, After the war he left
the service and gave himielf up to science. He acted as ausstant scere-
tary to the Geological Society from 1829-42, when he resigned, owing to
{it health,
+ T. Bell, F.R.S, formerly Prof. of Zoology in King’s College, London,
‘and sometime secretary to the Royal Society. He afterwards deseribed
the reptiles for the zoology of the voyage of the Beagle.
GEOLOGICAL COLLECTION. 247
from T do not know where. I was at last forced to plead
most entire innocence, and that T knew no more about the
plants which I had collected than the man in the moon.”
‘Asto part of his Geological Collection he was yoon able
towrite: “I [have] disposed of the most important part [of]
my eallections, by giving all the fossil bones to the College
of Surgeons, casts of them will be distributed, and descrip-
tions published. They are very curious and valuable ; one
head belonged to some gnawing animal, but of the size of
a Hippopotamus! Another to an anteater of the size of a
horse !”
Tt is worth noting that at this time the only extinct mam-
malin from South America, which had been described, were
Mastadon (three species) and Megatherium, The remains of
the other extinet Edentata from Sir Woodbine Parish’s col-
lection had not been described, My father's specimens in-
cluded (besides the above-mentioned Toxodon and Scelido-
therium) the remains of Mylodon, Glossotherium, another
gigantic animal allied to the ant-eater, and Macrauchenia.
His discovery of these remains is a matter of interest in itself,
bus it has a special importance asa point in his own life, since
it was the vivid impression produced by excavating them with
his own hands * that formed one of the chief starting-points
of his speculation on the origin of species. This is shown
in the following extract from his Pocket Book for this year
(1837) = “Tn July opened first note-book on ‘Transmutation
of Species, Had been greatly struck from about the month
of previous March on character of South American foss
and species on Galapagos Archipelago. ‘These facts (espe
cially latter), origin of all my view:
1 have often heard him speek of the despair with which he bad to
‘break off the projecting exiremity of a huge, partly excavated bone, when
the boat walting for him would wait no longer.
248 LONDON AND CAMDRIDGE. TAT. 27, (1836.
1836-1837.
C. Darwin te W. D. Fox.
a5 Great Mi Street,
November Oth (1836).
My peak Fox,
I have taken a shamefully long time in answering your
letter. But the busiest time of the whole voyage has been
tranquillity itself to this last month. After paying Henslow
a short but very pleasant visit, T came up to town to wait for
the Beagle's arrival, At last I have removed all my property
from on board, and sent the specimens of Natural History to
Cambridge, so that I am now a free man, My London visit
has been quite idle as far as Natural History goes, but has
been passed in most exciting dissipation amongst the Dons
in science. All my affairs, indeed, are most prosperous ; T
find there are plenty who will undertake the discription of
whole tribes of animals, of which I know nothing. So that
about this day month I hope to set to work tooth and nail
at the Geology, which I shall publish by itself.
It is quite ridiculous what an immensely long period it
appears to me since landing at Falmouth, The fact is T have
talked and laughed enough for years instead of weeks, 30
[that] my memory is quite confounded with the noise. I am
delighted to hear you are turned geologist: when I pay the
Isle of Wight a visit, which I am determined shall somehow
come to pass, you will be a capital cicerone to the famous
Line of dislocation, I really suppose there are few parts of
the world more interesting to a geologist than your island.
Amongst the great scientific men, no one has been nearly so
friendly and kind as Lyell, I have seen him several times,
and feel inclined to like him much. You eannot imagine
how good-naturedly he entered into all my plans. I speak
now only of the London men, for Henslow was just like his
former self, and therefore a most cordial and affectionate
friend. When you pay London a visit 1 shall be very proud
to take you to the Geological Society, for be it known, I was
ved CHRIST'S COLLEGE. 249
tobea F.G.S. last Tuesday. It is, however, a great
pity that these and the other letters, especially F. R.S,, are 80
very expensive.
T do not scruple to ask you to write to me in a week's time
in Shrewsbury, for you are a good letter writer, and if people
will have such good characters they must pay the penalty.
Good-bye, dear Fox.
Yours,
cD.
[His affairs being thus so far prosperously managed he was
able to put into execution his plan of living at Cambridge,
where he settled on December roth, 1836, He was at first a
Buest in the comfortable home of the Henslows, but after
wards, for the sake of undisturbed work, he moved into lodg-
ings. He thus writes to Fox, March 13th, 1837, from Lon-
don:—
“My residence at Cambridge was rather Jonger than 1
expected, owing to a job which I determined to finish there,
namely, looking over all my geological specimens, Cambridge
yet continues a very pleasant, but not half so merry a place
a8 before. To walk through the courts of Christ’s College,
and not know an inhabitant of a single room, gave one a
fecling half melancholy, The only evil I found in Cambridge
was its being too pleasant; there was some agreeable party
or another every evening, and one cannot sty one is engaged
with 50 much impunity there as in this great city
A trifling record of my father’s presence in Cambridge
occurs in the book kept in Christ's College combination-room,
where fines and bets were recorded, the earlier entries giving
A Curious impression of the after-dinner frame of mind of the
fellows. The bets were not allowed to be made in money, but
‘were, like the fines, paid in wine. The bet which my father
made and lost is thus recorded :-—
“ Feb, 23, 1837.—Mr, Darwin v. Mr. Baines, that the com-
Dination-room measures from the ceiling to the floor more
than (x) feet, 1 Bottle paid same day.
7
:
250 LONDON AND CAMURIDGE. STAT. a8. — [1657,
“N.B. Mr. Darwin may measure at any part of the room
he pleases,"
Besides arranging the geological and mineralogical speci-
‘mens, he had his ‘Journal of Researches’ to work at, which
occupied his evenings at Cambridge, He also read a short
paper at the Zoological Society,* and another at the Geolog=
eal Socicty,f on the recent elevation of the coast of Chili.
Early in the spring of 1837 (March 6th) he left Cambridge
for London, and a week later he was settled in lodgings at
36 Great Marlborough Street; and except for a short visit
to Shrewsbury” in June, he worked on till September, being
almost entirely employed on his‘ Journal." He found time,
however, for two papers at the Geological Society.
He writes of his work to Fox (March, 1837):—
“In your last letter you urge me to get ready te book. I
am now hard at work and give up everything else for it. Our
plan is as follows; Captain Fitz-Roy writes two volumes out
of the materials collected during the last voyage under Capt.
King to Tierra del Fuego, and during our circumnavigation.
Tam to have the third volume, in which I intend giving a
kind of journal of a naturalist, not following, however, always
the order of time, but rather the order of position, ‘The
habits of animals will occupy a large portion, sketches of the
geology, the appearance of the country, and personal details
will make the hodge-podge complete. Afterwards F shall
write an account of the geology in detail, and draw up some
zoological papers. So that I have plenty of work for the
next year or two, and till that is finished will have no holi-
days."
* Notes upon Rhea Americana,” “Zool, Soe. Proc.” ¥. 857, PPS 35
# Geol. Sec. Proc fi, 1838, pp. 44b—4a9.
$"A sketch of the deposits containing extinct manmatia in the weigh.
boarhood of the Mata,” * Geol. Soc, Proc. ii. 1835, pp. S4m544; and “On
‘certain areas of elevation and subsidence Im the Pacifie and Tralian oceans,
ts deduced from the study of coral formations,” ' Geol. Soc. Proc.” fi.1838,
Pp Ss2-554-
Another letter to Fox (July) gives an account of the prog:
reas of his work :—
“T gave myself a holiday and a visit to Shrewsbury [in
June), a6 1 had finished my Journal. I shall now be very
basy in filling up gaps and getting it quite ready for the press
by the first of August. T shall always feel respect for every:
‘one who has written a book, let it be what it may, for T had
no idea of the trouble which trying to write common English
could cost one. And, alas, there yet remains the worst part
of all, correcting the press. As soon as ever that is done I
‘must put my shoulder to the wheel and commence at the
Geology. I have read some short papers to the Geological
Society, and they were favourably received by the great guns,
and this gives me much confidence, and T hope not a very
‘great deal of vanity, though T confess T feel too aften like a
peacock admiring his tail. I never expected that my Geology
would ever have been worth the consideration of such men as
Lyell, who has been to me, since my return, a most active
friend, My life is a very busy one at present, and I hope
may ever remain so; though Heaven knows there are many
Serious drawbacks to such a life, and chief amongst them is
the litde time it allows one for seeing one’s natural friends.
For the last three years, Ihave been longing and longing to
be living at Shrewsbury, and after all now in the course of
several months, T sce my dear good people at Shrewsbury for
aweck. Susan and Catherine have, however, been staying
with my brother here for some weeks, but they had returned
home before my visit.”
Besides the work already mentioned he had much to busy
him in making arrangements for the publication of the
‘Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle! The following letters
Mustrate this subject.)
252 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. TAT. #3 [1853
©. Darwin to £. Jemyns*
36 Great Marlborough Sieect,
“Apeil rath, 1837.
Drar Jenvws,
‘During the last week several of the zoologists of this place
have been urging me to consider the possibility of publishing
the ‘Zoology of the Beagie’s Voyage’ on some uniform plan,
‘Mr. Macleay has taken a great deal of interest in the sub-
fect, and maintains that such a publication is very desirable,
Decause it keeps together a series of observations made re-
specting animals inhabiting the same part of the world, and
allows any future traveller taking them with him, How far
this facility of reference is of aay consequence I am very
doubtful; but if such is the case, it would be more satis«
factory to myself to see the gleanings of my hands, after hav-
ing passed through the brains of other naturalists, collected
together in one work, But such considerations ought not to
have much weight. ‘The whole scheme is at present merely
floating in the air; but I was determined to let you know, as
I should much like to know what you think about it, and
whether you would object to supply descriptions of the fish
to such a work instead of to “Transactions.' I apprehend
the whole will be impracticable, without Government will aid
in engraving the plates, and this J fear is a mere chance, only
I think I can put in a strong claim, and get myself well
backed by the naturalists of this place, who nearly all take a
* Now Rev. 1. Mometield
+ William Sharp Macleay was the son of Alexander Macleay, formerly
Colonial Secretary of New South Wales, and for many years Secretary of
the Linnean Society, ‘The son, who was @ mont oralous Naturalist, and
had inherited from his father a very large general collection of insects,
made Entomology his chief suds, nod gained great notoriety by his now
Parsee Gola seek SD nen Pay of We Bx
," published fa 1822.—{T ae indebted wo Rev. 1. Blomefield
for ror foregoing note.)
\ 253
good deal of interest in my collections. I mean to-morrow
to see Mr, Yarrell; if he approves, I shall begin and take
‘more active steps; for I hear he is most prudent and most
wise. It is scarcely any use speculating about any plan, but
I thought of getting subscribers and publishing the work in
parts (as long as funds would last, for I myself will not lose
money by it). In such case, whoever had his own part ready
‘on any order might publish it separately (and ultimately the
parts might be sold separately}, so that no one should be de«
layed by the other, The plan would resemble, on a humble
scale, Ruppel's ‘Atlas,” or Humboldt's ‘Zoologic,” where
Latreille, Cuvier, &c., wrote different parts. 1 myself should
have little to do with it; excepting in some orders adding
habits and ranges, &c., and geographical sketches, and per
haps afterwards some descriptions of invertebrate ani-
male...
Tam working at my Journal; it gets on slowly, though I
am not idle, I thought Cambridge a bad place fram good
dinners and other temptations, but {find London no better,
and I fear it may grow worse. I have a capital friend in
Lyell, and see a great deal of him, which is very advanta-
geous to me in discussing much South American geology.
miss a walk in the country very much ; this London is a vite
smoky place, where a man loses a great part of the best en-
Joyments in life. But I see no chance of escaping, even for
a week, from this prison for a long time to come. I fear it
‘will be some time before we shall meet; for TI suppose you
‘will not come up here during the spring, and T do not think
Tshall be able to go down to Cambridge, How 1 should
Tike to have a good walk along the Newmarket road to-
morrow, but Oxford Street must do instead. I do hate the
streets of London. Will you tell Henslow to be careful with
the adidde fungi from ‘Tierra del Fuego, for f shall want some
#pecimens for Mr. Brown, who seems particularly interested
about them. Tell Henslow, I think my silicified wood has
unflintified Mr, Brown's heart, for he was very gracious to me,
and talked about the Galapagos plants; but before he never
254 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. AUTAT. a& [1837
would say a word, It is just striking twelve o'clock; x0 I
will wish you a very good night.
My dear Jenyns,
Yours most truly,
C. Danwin.
LA few weeks later the plan seems to have been matured,
and the idea of seeking Government aid to have been
adopted.)
©. Darwin to J. S. Hensler,
3% Great Marlborough Street,
(ath May, 1837),
MY dEAK Henstow,
1 was very glad to receive your letter, I wanted much to
hear how you were getting on with your manifold labours.
Indeed I do not wonder your head began to ache; it is al-
most a wonder you have any head left. Your account of the
Gamlingay expedition was cruclly tempting, but I cannot
anyhow leave London. 1 wanted to pay my good, dear peo-
ple at Shrewsbury a visit of a few days, but I found I could
not manage it; at present [am waiting for the signatures of
the Duke of Somerset, as President of the Linnean, and of
Lard Derby and Whewell, to a statement of the value of my
collection; the instant I get this I shall apply to Government
for assistance in engraving, and so publish the * Zoology’ on
some uniform plan. It is quite ridiculous the time any
‘operation requires which depends on many people.
Thave been working very steadily, but have only got two-
thitds through the Journal part alone, I find, though T re-
main daily many hours at work, the progress is very slow: it
is an awful thing to say to oneself, every fool and every
clever man in England, if he chooses, may make as many ill-
‘natured remarks as he likes on this unfortunate sentence.
. . . * *
{In August he writes to Henslow to announce the success
‘of the scheme for the publication of the ‘Zoology of the
— Voyage of the Seagie,’ through the promise of a grant of
#1000 from the Treasury: “I have delayed writing to you,
to thank you most sincerely for having so effectually managed
my affair, T waited till I had an interview with the Chancel-
lor of the Exchequer." He appointed to sce me this morn-
jing, and I had a long conversation with him, Mr. Peacock
being present, Nothing could be more thoroughly obliging
and kind than his whole manner, He made no sort of re-
striction, but only told me to make the most of [the] money,
which of course T am right willing to do.
“T expected rather an awfal interview, but I never found
anything less so in my life, It will be my fault if 1 do not
make a good work; but I sometimes take an awful fright
that I have not materials enough. It will be excessively
satisfactory at the end of some two years to find all materials
made the most they were capable of.”
Later in the autumn he wrote to Henslow; “TI have not
‘been very well of late, with an uncomfortable palpitation of
the heart, and my doctors urge me strongly to knock off all
work, and go and live in the country for a few weeks." He
accordingly took a holiday of about a month at Shrewsbury
and Maer, and paid Fox 4 visit in the Isle of Wight. It was,
T believe, during this visit, at Mr. Wedgwood’s house at
‘Maer, that he made his first observations on the work done
by earthworms, and late in the autumn he read a paper on
the subject at the Geological Society.t During these two
months he was also busy preparing the scheme of the ‘Zool.
ogy of the Voyage of the Aeagie,’ and in beginning to put to-
gether the Geological results of his travels.
‘The following letter refers to the proposal that he should
take the Secreturyship of the Geological Society.}
©7. Spring Rive.
$n the formation of mould," * Geol. Soc, Proc il, £858 pp s74-
— |
4256 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE, TAT. st
C. Darwin ts J. S. Hensler.
‘Occober sath, [1837],
Mr pear Hexstow,
~«. Lam much obliged to you for your message about
the Sccretaryship, I am exceedingly anxious for you to hear
my side of the question, and will you be so kind as afterwards
to give me your fair judgment. The subject has haunted me
all summer. I am vnwilling to undertake the office for the
following reasous: First, my entire igoorance of English
Geology, a knowledge of which would be almost necessary in
order to shorten many of the papers before reading them be-
fore the Society, of rather to know what parts to skip. Again,
my ignorance of all languages, and not knowing how to pro-
nounce a siagée word of French—a language so perpetually
quoted. It would be disgraceful to the Society to have a
Secretary who could not read French, Secondly, the loss of
time; pray consider that I should have to look after the
artists, superintend and furnish materials for the Government
work, which will come out in parts, and which must appear
regularly. All my Geological notes are in a very rough state;
none of my fossil shells worked up ; and I have mach to read.
T have had hopes, by giving up society and not wasting an
‘hour, that T should finish my Geology in a year and a half, by
which time the description of the higher animals by others
would be completed, and my whole time would then neces-
sarily be required to complete myself the description of the
invertebrate ones. If this plas fails, as the Government work
must go on, the Geology would necessarily be deferred till
probably at least three years from this time. In the present
state of the science, a great part of the utility of the little T
have done would be lost, and all freshness and pleasure quite
taken from me.
I know from experience the time required to make abs
atracts even of my own papers for the ‘Proceedings.’ If I was
Sccretary, and had to make double abstracts of each paper,
studying them before reading, and attendance would af Zeast
word SECRETARYSHIP, 257
cost me three days (and often more) in the fortnight. There
are Hikewise other accidental and contingent losses of time:
I know Dr. Royle found the office consumed much of his
time. If by merely giving up any amusement, or by working
harder than I have done, [ could save time, I would under-
take the Secretaryship ; but { appeal to you whether, with my
‘slow manner of writing, with two works in hand, and with
the certainty, if T cannot complete the Geological part within
&@ fixed period, that its publication must be retarded for a
very long time,—whether any Society whatever has any claim
‘on me for three days" disagreeable work every fortnight. I can-
not agree that it is a duty on my part, as a follower of science,
as long as I devote myself to the completion of the work [
have in hand, to delay that, by undertaking what may be
done by any person who happens to have more spare time
than T have at present. Moreover, so early in my scientific
life, with so very much as I have to learn, the office, though no
doubt a great honour, &c., for me, would be the more burden-
some. Mr, Whewell (I know very well), judging from him-
self, will think I exaggerate the time the Secretaryship would
require; but I absolutely know the time which with me the
simplest writing consumes. 1 do not at all like appearing so
selfish as to refuse Mr, Whewell, more especially as he has
always shown, in the kindest manner, an interest in my affairs,
But I cannot look forward with even tolerable comfort to un-
dertaking an office without entering on it heart and soul, and
that would be impossible with the Government work and the
Geology in hand,
My last objection is, that T doubt how far my health will
stand the confinement of what I have to do, without any ad-
ditional work. I merely repeat, that you may know I am not
speaking idly, that when I consulted Dr, Clark in town, be
at first urged me to give up entirely all writing and even cor-
recting press for some weeks. Of late anything which flurries
me completely knocks me up afterwards, and brings on a vio-
Jent palpitation of the heart, Now the Secretaryship would
be a periodical source of more annoying trouble to me than
258 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. TAT. 28 — [1857
all the rest of the fortnight put together. In fact, till I return
to town, and see how I get on, if I wished the office ever so
much, I could not say T would positively undertake it, I beg
of you to excuse this very Jong prose all about myself, but the
point is one of great interest. I can neither bear to think
myself very selfish and sulky, nor can 1 see the possibility of
my taking the Secretaryship without making a sucrifice of all
my plans and a good deal of comfort,
If you see Whewell, would you tell him the substance of
this letter; or, if he will take the trouble, he may read it, My
dear Henslow, I appeal to you fe heew parentis. Pray tell me
what you think? But do not judge me by the activity of
mind which you and a few others possess, for in that case
the more difficult things in hand the pleasamter the work ;
but, though [ hope I never shall be idle, such is not the case
with me,
Ever, dear Henslow,
Yours most truly,
C. Danwrx.
[He ultimately accepted the post, and held it for three
yeats—(rom February 16, 1838, to February 19, 1841.
Alter being assured of the Grant for the publication of
the ‘Zoology of the Voyage of the Beate,’ there was much
to be done in arranging the scheme of publication, and this
ovcupied him during part of October and November.]
C. Darwin te J. S. Hensiow,
[4th November, r837.]
My van Hensi.ow,
. + Peay tell Leonard* that my Goverament work is
going on smoothly, and I hope will be prosperous He will
see in the Prospectus his name attached to the fish ; T set my
shoulders to the work with a good heart, I am very much
better than I was during the last month before my Shrews-
* Rew. L. Jenyma,
1838.) CAMBRIDGE. 259
bury visit. 1 fear the Geology will take me a great deal of
time; I was looking over one sct of notes, and the quantity I
found I had to read, for that one place was frightful, If I
live till I am eighty years old 1 shall not cease to marvel at
finding myself an author; in the summer before! started, if
any one had told me that T should have been an angel by this
time, T should have thought it an equal impossibi This
marvellous transformation is all owing to you,
Tam sorry to find that a good many errata are left in the
part of my volume, which is printed. During my absence
Mr, Colburn employed some goose to revise, and he has mul-
tiplied, instead of diminishing my oversights; but for all
that, the smooth paper and clear type has a charming appear-
ance, and I sat the other evening gazing in silent admiration
at the first page of my own volume, when I received it from
the printers
Good-bye, my dear Henslow,
C, Darwin,
1838,
[From the beginning of this year to nearly the end of June,
he was busily employed on the zoological and geological re-
sults of his voyage, ‘This spell of work was interrupted only
by a visit of three Qays to Cambridge, in May; and even this
short holiday was taken in consequence of failing health, as
we may assume from the entry in his diary: “ May rst, un-
well,” and from a letter to his sister (May 16, 1838), when he
wrote :—
“My trip of three days to Cambridge has done me such
wonderful good, and filled my limbs with such elasticity, that
I must get a little work out of my body before another holi-
day.” This holiday seems to have been thoroughly enjoyed ;
he wrote to his sister
“Now for Cambridge: [stayed at Henslow's house and
enjoyed my visit extremely, My friends gave me a most
cordial welcome. Indeed, 1 was quite a lion there, Mrs
Henslow unfortunately was obliged to go on Friday for &
visit in the country, That evening we had at Henslow's a
brilliant party of all the geniuses in Cambridge, and a most
remarkable set of men they most assuredly are. On Saturday
Trode over to L. Jenyns’, and epent the morning with him.
I found him very checeful, but bitterly complaining of his
solitude, On Saturday evening dined at one of the Colleges,
played at bowls on the College Green after dinner, and was
deafened with nightingales singing. Sunday, dined in Trinity ;
capital dinner, and was very glad to sit by Professor Lee*
T find him a very pleasant chatting man, and in high spirits
like a boy, at having lately returned from a living or a curacy,
for seven years in Somersetshire, to civilised society and
oriental manuscripts, He had exchanged his living to one
within fourteen miles of Cambridge, and scemed perfectly
happy. In the evening attended Trinity Chapel, and heard
“The Heavens are telling the Glory of God,” in magnificent
style; the last chorus seemed to shaRe the very walls of the
College. After chapel a large party in Sedgwick’s rooms,
So much for my Annals,”
He started, towards the end of June, on his expedition to
Glen Roy, of which he writes to Fox: “I have not been very
well of late, which has suddenly determined me to leave Lon-
don earlier than I had anticipated. I go by the steam-packet
to Edinburgh,—take a solitary walk on Salisbury Craigs, and
call up old thoughts of former times, then go on to Glasgow
and the great valley of Inverness, near which J intend stop-
ping a week to geologise the parallel roads of Glea Roy, thence
to Shrewsbury, Maer for one day, and London for smoke, ill-
health and hard work,"*
He spent “eight good days” over the Parallel Roads,
His Essay on this subject was written out during the same
summer, and published by the Royal Society. He wrote in
his Pocket Book : “September 6 [1838]. Finished the paper
* Samuel Lee, of Queens’, was Profewor of Arabic from 1819 to 189%,
and Regius Profesor of Ifebrew from c83t 02 1848
+ ‘Phil. Trans.’ 1899, pp. 39-82.
‘on ‘Glen Roy," one of the most difficult and instructive tasks
Iwas ever engaged on." It will be remembered that in his
“ Recollections" he speaks of this paper as a failure, of which
he was ashamed,
‘At the time at which he wrote, the latest’ theory of the for-
mation of the Parnllel Roads was that of Sir Lauder Dick
and Dr. Macculloch, who believed that lakes had anciently
existed in Glen Roy, caused by dams of rock or allur
vium, In arguing against this theory he conceived that
he had disproved the admissibility of any lake theory,
‘Dut in this point he was mistaken. He wrote (Glen Roy
paper, p. 49) “the conclusion is inevitable, that no hypo-
thesis founded on the supposed existence of a sheet of
water confined by darriers, that is a lake, can be admitted
a solving the problematical origin of the parallel roads of
Lochaber."
_ Mr. Archibald Geikic has been so good as to allow me to
quote a passage from a letter addressed to me (Nov. 19, 1884)
in compliance with my request for his opinion on the charac-
ter of my father's Glen Roy work -—
“Mr. Darwin's ‘Glen Roy’ paper, I need not say, is
marked by all his characteristic acuteness of observation and.
determination to consider all possible objections. Tt is a
‘curious example, however, of the danger of reasoning by a
method of exclusion in Natural Science. Finding that the
waters which formed the terraces in the Glen Roy region
ould ‘not possibly have been dammed back by barriers of
sock or of detritus, he saw no alternative but to regard them
as the work of the sea. Had the idea of transient barriers
Of glicier-ice occurred to him, he would have found the
eultles vanish from the lake-theory which he opposed, and he
would not have been unconsciously led to minimise the alto-
gether overwhelming objections to the supposition that the
terraces are of marine origin.”
Tt may be added that the idea of the barriers being formed
by glaciers could hardly have occurred to him, considering
‘what was the state of knowledge at the time, and bearing in
262 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. A'TAT. 29 [3858
mind his want of opportunities of observing glacial action
on a large scale.
‘The latter half of Joly was passed at Shrewsbury and
Macr. The only entry of any interest ix one of being “very
idle” at Shrewsbury, and of opening “a note-book eonnected
with metaphysical inquiries.” In August he records that he
read “a good deal of various amusing books, and paid some
attention to metaphysical subjects.”
‘The work done during the remainder of the year comprises
the book on coral reefs (begun in October), and some work
‘on the phenomena of elevation in S. America.)
©. Darwin to C. Lyell
36 Groat Marlborough Street,
Augast qth [1898].
My pean Lyett,
T did not write to you at Norwich, for I thought I should
have more to say, if I waited a few more days, Very many
thanks for the present of your ‘Elements,’ which I received
(and I believe the very first copy distributed) together with
your note. T have read it through every word, and am fall
of admiration of it, and, as I now sec no geologist, 1 must
talk to you about it. There is no pleasure in reading a book
if one cannot have a good talk over it; I repeat, Tam full of
admiration of it, it is as clear as daylight, in faet T felt in
many parts some mortification at thinking how geologists
have laboured and struggled at proving what seems, as you
have put it, #0 evidently probable. I read with much interest
your sketch of the secondary deposits; you have contrived
to make it quite “juicy,” as we used to say as children of 3
good story. ‘There was also much new to me, and I have
to copy out some fifty notes and references. It must do
good, the heretics against common sense must yield. . .
By the way, do you recollect my telling you how much T
disliked the manner referred to his other works, as
“You must, ought, and shall buy everything
To my mind, you have somehow quite
+ 263
avoided this; your references only seem to say, “I can't tell
you all in this work, else I would, so you must go to the
*Principles’" ; and many a one, I trust, you will send there,
and make them, like me, adorers of the good science of rock-
breaking, You will sce I am in a fit of enthusiasm, and good
cause I have to be, when I find you have made such infinitely
more use of my Journal than I could have anticipated, 1
will say no more about the book, for it is all praise, 1 must,
however, admire the elaborate honesty with which you quote
the words of all living and dead geologists.
My Scotch expedition answered brilliantly; my trip in
the steam-packet was absolutely pleasant, and I enjoyed the
spectacle, wretch that 1 um, of two ladies, and some small
children quite sea-sick, I being well. Moreover, on my return
from Glasgow to Liverpool, I triumphed in a similar manner
‘over some full-grown men, I stayed one whole day in Edin-
burgh, or more truly on Salisbury Craigs; I want to hear
some day what you think about that classical ground,—the
Structure was to me new and rather curious,—that is, if 1
understand it right, 1 crossed from Edinburgh in gigs and
carts (and curts without springs, as I never shall forget) to
Loch Leven, I was disappointed in the scenery, and reached
Glen Roy on Saturday evening, one week after leaving Marl-
borough Street. Here I enjoyed five [2] days of the most
‘beautiful weather with gorgeous sunsets, and all nature look-
ing as happy as I felt. 1 wandered over the mountains in
all directions, and examined that most extraordinary district.
1 think, without any exceptions, not even the first volcanic
island, the first elevated beach, or the passage of the Cor-
dillera, was so interesting to me as this week, It is far the
most remarkable area I cver examined. I have fully con-
vinced myself {after some doubting at first) that the shelves
are sea-beaches, although I could not find « trace of « shell;
and I think I can explain away most, if not all, the difficul-
ties. I found a piece of a road in another valley, not hith-
‘erto observed, which is important ; and I have some curious
facts about erratic blocks, one of which was perched up on
oe) Cite
264° LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE, ETAT, >
‘a peak 2200 fect above the sea, Iam now employed
writing a paper on the subject, which I find very amusing
work, excepting that I cannot anyhow condense it into rea-
sonable limits, At some future day I hope to talk over
some of the conclusions with you, which the examination of
Glen Roy has led me to. Now I have bad my talk out, I
am much easier, for T can assure you Glen Roy has aston=
ighed me,
Tam living very quietly, aaa pleasantly, and am
crawling on slowly but steadily with my work. I have come
to one conclusion, which you will think proves me to be
a very sensible man, namely, that whatever you say proves
and as a proof of this, I am coming into your way of
only working about two hours at a spell ; I then go out and
do my business in the streets, return and set to work again,
and thus make two separate days out of one. ‘The new plan
answers capitally ; after the second half day is finished I go
and dine at the Athenseum like a gentleman, or rather like
lord, for I am sure the first evening I satin that geeat drawing
room, all on a sofe by myself, I felt just ikea duke, Tam
full of admiration at the Athenaeum, one meets so many people
there that one likes to see, The very first time I dined there
(ie, last week) IT met Dr. Fitton ® at the door, and he got to-
gether quite a party—Robert Brown, who is gone to Paris and
Auvergne, Macleay [?] and Dr, Boot. Your helping me into
*W. HL Fitton (b. 1780, d. 1861) wae # physician and geologist, and
vometime president of the Geological Society. He extablished the * Pro
ceedings,’ a mode of publication afterwards adopted by other societies
4 Francis Hocet (b, 27754. 48653) is chiefly known as a botanist through
hhis work on the genus Carex. He was also well known in eoaneecion with
the Linnean Society of which he was for many years an office-bearer. He
fy described (in a biographical sketch poblished in the Gandoners! CArewicle,
1g) as having been one of the first physicians in Losdon who gave up
the castomary black coat, knee- breeches and silk stockings, and adopted
the onfinary drew of the period, » Line coat with brass buttons, and « buil
waiscoat, a contume which he continued to wear to the last. After giving
up practice, which he did early in life, he spent much of his time in acts of
unpretending philanthropy.
=~
sts.) FITTON, BOOTT. 265
the Athensum has not been thrown away, and f enjoy it the
more because I fully expected to detest it,
Tam writing you a most unmerciful letter, but I shall get
‘Owen to take it to Newcastle, Tf you have a mind to be a
very generous man you will write to me from Kinnordy, and
tell me some Newcastle news, as well as about the Craig, and
about yourself and Mrs. Lyell, and everything else in the
world. I will send by Hall the * Entomological Transactions,”
which I have borrowed for you ; you will be disappointed in
—s papers, that is if you suppose my dear friend has a
single clear idea upon any one subject. He has so involved
Fecent insects and truc fossil inseets in one table that I fear
you will not make much out of it, though it is. subject which
ought L should think to come into the “Principles.” You will
be amused at some of the ridiculo-sublime passages in the
papers, and no doubt will feel acutely a sneer there is at your-
self, Ihave heard from more than one quarter that quarrel-
ling is expected at Neweastle;+ fam sorry tohear it, I met
old —— this evening at the Atheneum, and he muttered
something about writing to you or some one on the subject ;
Tam however all in the dark, 1 suppose, however, T shall be
iMuminated, fer I am going to dine with him in a few days, as
my inventive powers failed in making any excuse, A friend
of mine dined with him the other day, a party of four, and
they finished ten bottles of wine—a pleasant prospect for me;
Dut Tam determined not even to taste his wine, partly for the
fun of aceing his infinite disgust and surprise. . .
Dipliy-you the infliction of thiv' most uomerciful letter,
Pray remember me most kindly to Mrs, Lyell when you arrive
at Kinnordy, 1 saw her name in the landiord’s book of In-
yerorum, ‘Tell Mrs. Lyell to read the second series of ‘ Mr.
Slick of Slickville's Sayings.’ . . . He almost beats “‘Samivel,”
that prince of heroes. Good night, my dear Lyell ; you will
think T have been drinking some strong drink to write #0
The house of Lyell’s father.
+ Actlie meeting of the British Association,
cy
266 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. ETAT. 2. [1898
much nonsense, but I did not even taste Minerva’s small beer
to-day. ‘Yours most sincerely,
: 3 Cmas. Darwin,
C. Darwin to C. Lyell,
Friday night, September 13th [1858].
My rar Lyen,
Iwas astonished and delighted at your gloriously long
letter, and I am sure 1 am very much obliged to Mrs. Lyell
for having taken the trouble to write so much,* I mean to
have 4 good hour's enjoyment and scribble away to you, who
have so much geological sympathy that I do not care how
egotistically I write, . . .
T have got so much to say about all sorts of trifling things
that T hardly know what to begin about. I need not say
how pleased I am to hear that Mr. Lyell likes my Journal,
To hear. such tidings ix a kind of resurrection, for I feel
towards my first-born child as if it had long since been dead,
buried, and forgotten ; but the past is nothing and the future
everything to us geologists, as you show in your capital motto
to the ‘Elements.’ By the way, have you read the article, in
the‘ Edinburgh Review,’ on M. Comte, ‘Cours de la Philoso-
phie’ (or some such tle)? It is capital; there are some fine
sentences about the very essence of science being prediction,
which reminded me of “its law being progress."’
Twill now begin and go through your letter seriafiw. 1
dare say your plan of putting the Elie de Beaumont’s chapter
separately and early will be very good ; anyhow, it is showing
a boli front in the first edition which is to be translated into
Feeneh. It will be a curious point to geologists hereafter to
note how long a man’s name will support a theory so com-
pletely exposed as that of De Reaumont's has been by you ;
you say you “begin to hope that the great principles there
insisted on will stand the test of time.” Begin te Ayte» why,
© Lyell dictated much of hie correspondence.
4 Father of the geologist.
1838) GEOLOGY. 267
the possibility of a doubt has never crossed my mind for many
aday. This may be very unphilogop’ical, but my geological
salvation is staked on it. After having just come back from
Glen Ray, and found how difficulties smooth away under
your principles, it makes me quite indignant that you should
talk of Aeping. With respect to the question, how far my coral
theory bears on De Beaumont’s theory, 1 think it would be
prudent to quote me with great caution until my whole ac-
count is published, and then you (and others) can judge how
far there is foundation for such generalisation, Mind, I donot
doubt its truth ; but the extension of any view over such large
spaces, from comparatively few facts, must be received with
much caution, 1 do not myself the least doubt that within
the recent (or as you, mych to my annoyment, would call
it, “New Pliocene”) period, tortuous bands—not all the
bands parallel to each other—have been clevated and cor-
responding ones subsided, though within the same period
some paris probably remained for a time stationary, or even
subsided, I do not believe a more utterly false view could
have been invented than great straight lines being suddenly
thrown up.
When my book on Volcanoes and Coral Reefs will be
published 1 hardly know; I fear it will be at least four or
five months; though, mind, the greater part is written, T
find so much time is tost in correcting details and ascertain-
ing their accuracy. The Government Zoological work is a
millstone round my neck, and the Glen Roy paper has lost
me six weeks. 1 will not, however, say lost; for, supposing
I can prove to others’ satisfaction what I have convinced
myself is the case, the inference I think you will allow to be
important, Tcannot doubt that the molten matter heneath
the earth's crust possesses a high degree of fluidity, almost
like the sea beneath the block ice. By the way, I hope you
will give me some Swedish case to quote, of #hells being pre~
served on the surface, but not in contemporancous beds of
gravel.
Remember what T have often heard you say: the country
268 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE, ©TAT, 95
is very bad for the intellects ; the Scotch mists will put out
some volcanic speculations. You see I am affecting to be-
come very Cockneyfied, and to despise the poor country=
folk, who breathe fresh air instead of smoke, and see the
goodly ficlds instead of the brick houses in Marlborough
Street, the very sight of which I confess I abhor. Iam glad
to hear what a favourable report you give of the British:
Association, I am the more pleased because I have been
fighting its battles with Basil Hall, Stokes, and several others,
having made up my mind, from the report in the Athemanm,
that it must have been an excellent meeting, 1 have been
much amused with an account I have received of the wars of
Don Roderick® and Babbage. What a grievous pity it is
that the latter should be so implacable. . . . This is a most
rigmarole letter, for after each sentence I take breath, and
you will have nced of it in reading it... .
I wish with all my heart that my Geological book was out.
T have every motive to work hard, and will, following your
steps, work just that degroe of hardness to keep well. I
should hike my volume to be out before your new edition of
*Principles* appears, Besides the Coral theory, the volcanic
chapters will, I think, contain some new facts, I have lately
been sadly tempted to be idle—that is, as far as pure geology
is concerned—by the delightful number of new views which
have been coming in thickly and steadily,—on the classifica~
tion and affmities and instincts of animalkh—bearing on the
question of species, Note-book alter note-book has been
filled with facts which begin to group themselves clearly un=
der subslaws.
Good night, my dear Lyell, T have filled my letter and
enjoyed my talk to you as much as I can without having you
in proprid person’. "Think of the bad effects of the country—
80 once more good night. Ever yours,
Cuan, Danwin.
Pray again give eny best thanks to Mrs, Lyell.
© Marchison,
aS
tho] MARRIAGE, 269
{The record of what he wrote during the year does not
ive a true index of the most important work that was In
progress,—the laying of the foundation-stones of what was to
‘be the achievement of his life. This is shown in the fore-
going letter to Lyell, where he speaks of being “idle,” and
the following extract fram a letter to Fox, written in June, ix
of interest in this point of view :
“Tam delighted to hear you are such a good man as not
to have forgotten my questions about the crossing of animals,
It is my prime hobby, and 1 really think some day J shall be
able to do something in that most intricate subject, species
and varictics.”] :
1839 to 1841.
{Tm the winter of 1839 (Jan, 29) my father was married to
his cousin, Emma Wedgwood." The house in which they
lived for the first few years of their married life, No. 12
Upper Gower Street, was a small common-place London
house, with « drawing-room jn front, and a small room be-
hind, in which they lived for the sake of quictness. In later
years my father used to laugh over the surpassing ugliness of
the furniture, carpets, &c,, of the Gower Strect house, The
‘only redeeming feature was a better garden than most Lon«
don houses have, a strip as wide as the house, and thirty
yards long, Even this small space of dingy grass made their
London house more tolerable to its two country-bred in-
habitants,
Of his life in London he writes to Fox (October 1839) :
“We are living a life of extreme quietness ; Delamere itself,
which you describe as so secluded a spot, is, I will answer
for it, quite dissipated compared with Gower Street, We
have given up all parties, for they agree with neither of us;
und if One is quict in London, there is nothing like its quiet-
* Daughter of Josigh Wedgwood of Maer, and grand-daughter of the
founder of the Etruria Pottery Works.
270 ‘LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. ETAT. 9 — [1839
neas—there is a grandeur about its smoky fogs, and the dull
distant sounds of cabs and coaches; in fact you may per-—
ceive I am becoming a thorough-paced Cockney, and 1
glory in thoughts that T shall be hero for the next six
smonths,”"
‘The entries of ill health in the Diary increase in number
during these years, and as a consequence the holidays be-
come longer and more frequent. From April 26 to May 13,
1839, he was at Maer and Shrewsbury, Again, from August
23 to October 2 he was away from London at Maer, Shrews-
bury, and at Birmingham for the meeting of the British
Association.
‘The entry under August 1839 is: “During my visit to
Maer, read a little, was much unwell and scandalously idle,
I have derived this much good, that avsArng is so intolerable
as idleness.”
At the end of 1839 his eldest child was born, and it was
then that he began his observations ultimately published in
the ‘Expression of the Emotions.’ His book on this subject,
and the short paper published in ‘Mind,’* show how closely
he observed his child, He seems to have been surprised at
his own feelings for a young baby, for he wrote to Fox (July
1840): “He [¢, the baby] is so charming that 1 cannot pre-
tend to any modesty. 1 defy anybody to flatter us on our
baby, for I defy any one to say anything in its praisc of
which we are not felly conscious Thad not the smallest
conception there was so much in a five-month baby. You
will perecive by this that I have a fine degree of paternal
fervour.”
During these years he worked intermittently at ‘Coral
Reefs,’ being constantly interrupted by ill health. Thus he
speaks of “recommencing” the subject in February 1839,
and again in the October of the same year, and once more in
July 2851, “after more than thirteen months" interval” His
other scicntifie work consisted of a contribution to the Geo-
“6 July a877.
840) HEALTH, am
Society,* on the boulders and “till” of South America,
as well as a few other minor papers on geological subjects,
He also worked busily at the ornithological part of the Zool-
ogy of the Beagle, i.e. the notice of the habits and ranges of
the birds which were described by Gould.]
©. Darwin to C, Lyell,
‘Wedneuday morning [Febrasry 1340).
My pean Lyris,
Many thanks for your kind note. I will send for the
Scotrman, Dr, Holland thinks he has found out what is the
‘matter with me, and now hopes he shall be able to sct me
going again. Is it not mortifying, it is now nine weeks since
Thave done a whole day's work, and not more than four half
days, But I won’t grumble any more, though it is hard work
to prevent doing so. Since receiving your note I have read
over my chapter on Coral, and find I am prepared to stand by
almost everything ; it is much more cautiously and accurately
written than I thought. T had set my heart upon having my
volume completed before your new edition, but not, you may
believe me, for you to notice anything new in it (for there ix
‘very little besides details), but you are the one man in Europe
whose opinion of the general truth of a toughish argument I
should be always most anxious to hear. My MS. is in such
confusion, otherwise I am sure you should most willingly, if it
had been worth your while, have looked at any part you
choose, -
. + - . .
[Ina letter to Fox (January 1841) he shows that his
“Species work" was still occupying his mind >—
“ff you attend at all to Natural History T send you this
P.S. as a memento, that I continue to collect all kinds of facts
about ‘ Varieties and Species,’ for my some-day work to beso
entitled ; the snallest contributions thankfully accepted ; de=
scriptions of offspring of all crosses between all domestic birds
* ‘Geol, Soc. Proc iil, r44a, and
272 «LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE TAT. 33 [14a
and animals, dogs, eats, &c., &c., very valuable. Don't for
get, if your half-bred African cat should die that I should be
very much obliged for its carcuse seat up in x little hamper
for the skeleton ; it, or any cross-bred pigeons, fowl, duck,
&c., &c., will be more acceptable than the finest haunch of
venison, or the finest turtle,”
Later in the year (September) he writes to Fox about his
health, and also with reference to his plan of moving into the
country :—
“Thave steadily been gaining ground, and really believe
now I shail some day be quite strong. I write daily for a
couple of hours on my Coral volume, and take a little walk or
ride every day. I grow veey tired in the evenings, and am
not able to go out at that time, or hardly to receive my near-
est relations ; but my life ceases to be burdensome now that
Tecan do something. We are taking steps to leave London,
and live about twenty miles from it on some railway.)
1842.
[The record of work includes his volume on ‘Coral
Reefs,’* the manuscript of which was at last sent to the
printers in January of this year, and the Jast proof corrected
in May. He thus writes of the work ia his diary —
“1 commenced this work three years and seven months
ago. Out of this period about twenty months (besides work
during Beagle’s voyage) has been spent on it, and besides it,
I have only compiled the Bird part of Zoology; Appendix
to Journal, paper om Boulders, and corrected papers on Glen
Roy and earthquakes, reading on species, and rest all lost by
illness.”
In May and June he was at Shrewsbury and Maer, whence
he went on to make the little tour in Wales, of which he spoke
in his * Recollections,’ and of which the results were published
a8 “ Notes on the effects produced by the ancient glaciers of
* Arnotice of the Coral Reef work appeared tm the Geograph. Soc. Jour.
al, afi p11
1842.) ANCIENT GLACIERS, 273
Caernarvonshire, and on the Boulders transported by floating
iee®
Mr. Archibald Geikie speaks of this paper as standing
“almost at the top of the long list of English contributions to
the history of the Ice Age.” +
‘The latter part of this year belongs to the period including
the settlement at Down, and is therefore dealt with in another
chapter.]
* ‘Philosophical Magazine,’ 1842, p. 352.
+ Charles Darwin, ‘ Nature’ Series, p. 23.
CHAPTER VII
RELIGION,
[Tue history of this part of my father’s life may justly In~
clude some mention of his religious views. For although, as
he points out, he did not give continuous systematic thought
to religious questions, yet we know from his own words that
about this time (1836-39) the subject was much before his
mind.
In his published works he was reticent on the matter of
religion, and what he has left on the subject was not written
with a view to publication.*
1 believe that his reticence arose from several causes, He
felt strongly that a man’s religion is an essentially private mat-
ter, and one concerning himself alone, ‘This is indicated by
the following extract from a letter of 1879 :>—t+
“What my own views may be is a question of no conse-
quence to any one but myself. But, as you ask, f may state
that my judgment often fluctuates . . . In my most extreme
fluctuations I have never been an Atheist in the sense of
denying the existence of a God, I think that generally (and
more and more as I grow older), but not always, that an
Agnostic would be the more correct description of my state
of mind,
As an exceptica may be mentioned, 3 few words of eomeurrence with
Dr, Abbot's “Truths for the Times,” which my father allowed to be pubs
shed in the Srdes
+ Addrewed to Ma, J. Fonlyce, and published by him ia his * Aspects
of Scepeiclien,” 1883.
RELIGION. 275
He naturally shrank from wounding the sensibilities of
others in religious matters, and he was also influenced by the
consciousness that a man ought not to publish on a subject
to which he has not given special and continuous thought,
‘That he felt this caution to apply to himself in the matter of
réligion is shown in a letter to Dr. F. E. Abbot, of Cam-
bridge, U.S, (Sept. 6, 1871). After explaining that the
weakness arising from his bad health prevented him from
feeling “equal to deep reflection, on the deepest subject
which can fill a man's mind," be goes on to say: “With
Fespect to my former notes to you, 1 quite forget their con-
tents. I have to write many letters, and can reflect but little
on what I write; but I fully believe and hope that T have
never written a word, which at the time T did not think ; but
I think you will agree with me, that anything which is to be
given to the public ought to be maturely weighed and caus
tiously put. It never occurred to me that you would wish to
print any extract from my notes: if it had, I would have kept
acopy. 1 put ‘private’ from habit, only as yet partially ac-
quired, from some hasty notes of mine having been printed,
which were not in the least degree worth printing, though
Otherwise unobjectionable. It is simply ridiculous to suppose
that my former note to you would be worth sending to me,
with any part marked which you desire to print; but if you
Tike to do 40, T will at once say whether I should hawe any
objection, T feel in some degree unwilling to express myself
publicly on religious subjects, as I do not feel that 1 have
‘thought deeply enough to justify any publicity."
I may also quote from another letter to Dr. Abbot (Nov.
16, 1871), in which my father gives more fully his reasons for
not feeling competent to write on religious and moral sub-
jects —
“Tean say with entire truth that I feel honoured by your
request that I should become a contributor to the Zadex, and
am much obliged for the draft. 1 fully, also, subscribe to
the proposition that it is the duty of every one to spread
what he believes to be the truth; and I honour you for doing
276 RELIGION.
so, with so much devotion and zeal, But I cannot comply
with your request for the following reasons ; and excuse me
for giving them in some detail, as T should be very sorry to
appear in your eyes ungracious My health is very weak:
I never pass 24 hours without many hours of discomfort, when
1 can do nothing whatever. I have thus, alsa, lost two whole
consecutive months this season. Owing to this weakness,
and my head being often giddy, 1 am unable to master new
subjects requiring much thought, and can deal only with old
materials, At no time am I a quick thinker or writer : what-
ever I have done in science has solely been by long pander-
ing, patience and industry.
“Now I have never systematically thought much on relig-
ion in relation to science, or on morals in relation to society ;
and without steadily keeping my mind on such subjects for a
foug period, I am really incapable of writing anything worth
sending to the Zindex."
He was more than ouce asked to give bis views on relig-
ion, and he had, as a rule, no objection to doing so ina prie
vate letter, Thus in answer to a Dutch student he wrote
(April 2, 1373) —
“1 am sure you will excuse my writing at length, when I
tell you that T have long been much out of health, and am
now staying away from my home for rest,
“Ic is impossible to answer your question briefly; and I
am not sure that I could do #0, even if I wrote at some length,
But I may say that the impossibility of conceiving that this
grand and wondrous universe, with our conscious selves, arose
through chance, secms to me the chief argument for the exist-
ence of God; but whether this is an argument of real value,
T have never been able to decide. 1am aware that if we ad«
mit a first cause, the mind still craves to know whence it
came, and how it arose, Nor can I overlook the difficulty
from the immense amount of suffering through the world. 1
am, also, induced to defer to a certain extent to the judg-
ment of the many able men who have fully believed in God;
but here again I see how poor an argument this is ‘The
RELIGION. 277
safest coriclusion seems to me that the whole subject is be-
yond the scope of man's intellect; but man can do his dut;
Again in r879 he was applied to by a German student, in
similar manner, The letter was answered by a member of
any father’s family, who wrote -—
“Mr, Darwin begs me to say that he receives so many let-
ters, that he cannot answer them all.
“ He considers that the theory of Evolution ix quite com-
patible with the belief ina God; but that you must remember
that different persons have different definitions of what they
mean by God.”
This, however, did not satisfy the German youth, wha
again wrote to my father, and received from him the follow:
ing reply —
“Yam much engaged, an old man, and out of health, and
T cannot spare time to answer your questions fully,—no
deed can they be answered. Seience has nothing to do with
Christ, except in so far as the habit of scientific research
makes a man cautious in admitting evidence, For myself, 1
do not believe that there ever has been any revelation, As
for a future life, every man must judge for himself between
conflicting vague probabilities.”
‘The passages which here follow are extracts, somewhat
abbreviated, from a part of the Autobiography, written in
1876, in which my father gives the history of his religious
views :
During these two years * I was led to think auch about
religion, Whilst on board the Beagde 1 was quite orthodox,
and I remember being heurtily laughed at by several of the
officers (though themselves orthodox) for quoting the Bible
san unanswerable authority on some point of morality. I
suppose it was the novelty of the argument that amused therm.
But I had gradually come by this time, ie. 1836 to 1839, to
See that the Old Testament was n0 more to be trusted than
the sacred books of the Hindoos, The question then con+
# Oct, 1836 to Jan, 1339.
278 RELIGION.
tinually rose before my mind and would not be banished —
is it credible that if God were now to make a revelation to
the Hindoos, he would permit it to be connected with the
belief in Vishou, Siva, &c., as Christianity is connected with
the Old Testament? This appeared to me utterly incred=
ible.
“ By further reflecting that the clearest evidenee would be
requisite to make any sane man believe in the miracles by
which Christianity is supported,—and that the more we know
of the fixed laws of nature the more incredible do miracles
become,—that the men at that time were ignorant and credu-
Jous to a degree almost incomprehensible by usp—that the
Gospels cannot be proved to have been written simultaneous:
ly with the events,—that they differ in many important de=
tails, far too important, as it seemed to me, to be admitted a4
the usual inaccuracies of eye-witnesses ;—by such reflections
as these, which I give not as having the least novelty or value,
but as they influenced me, I gradually came to disbelieve in
Christianity as a divine revelation, The fact that many false
religions have spread over large portions of the earth like
wild-fire had some weight with me,
“But [was very unwilling to give up my belief; I feel
sure of this, for I can well remember often and often invent-
ing day-dreams of old letters between distinguished Romans,
and manuscripts being discovered at Pompeii or elsewhere,
which confirmed in the most striking manner all that was
written In the Gospels, But I found it more and more diffi- «
cult, with free scope given to my imagination, to invent evi-
dence which would suffice to convince me. Thus disbelief
crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete,
‘The rate was 9 slow that F felt no distress.
“Although I did not think much about the existence of
a personal God until a considerably later period of my life,
1 will here give the vague conclusions to which I have been
| driven. ‘The old argument from design in Nature, as given
| by Paley, which formerly seemed to me so conclusive, fails,
| Dow that the law of patural selection has been discovered,
: RELIGION. 279
‘We can no longer argue thar, for instance, the beautiful hinge |
of a bivalve shell must have been made by an intelligent
being, Hke the hinge of adoor by man. ‘There seems to be
no more design in the variability of organic beings, and in the
action of natural selection, than in the course which the wind
blows, But I have discussed this subject at the end of my
book on the ‘Variations of Domesticated Animals and
Plants,'* and the argument there given has never, as far as I
can sec, been answered.
“But passing over the endless beautiful adaptations which
We everywhere meet with, it may be asked how can the gen-
erally beneficent arrangement of the world be accounted for?
Some writers indeed arc so much impressed with the amount
of suffering in the world, that they doubt, if we look to all
sentient beings, whether there is more of misery or of happi-
fess; whether the world as a whole is a good or bad one,
According to my Judgment happiness decidedly prevails,
though this would be very difficult to prove. If the truth of
this conclusion be granted, it harmonizes well with the effects
which we might expect from natural selection, If all the
individuals of any species were habitually to suffer to an ex-
treme degree, they would neglect to propagate their kind ;
but we have no reason to belivve that this has ever, or ut leant
often occurred. Some other considerations, moreover, lead
to the belief that all sentient beings have been formed so as
to enjoy, asa general rule, happiness.
* My father asks whether we are to believe that the forms ire preot-
Aained of the broken fragments of rock tumbled from a precipice which are
fitted together by man to build his houses, If not, why should we believe
that the variations of domestic animals or plants are preordained for the
sake of the breeder? “But if we give up the principle in one case, « . «
no shadow of reason can be amignerl for the belief that variations, alike in
mature and the result of the samme general laws, which have been the ground»
work trough natural selection of the formation of the most perfectly
adapted animals in the world, man included, were intentionally and spe=
cially guided."—''The Variation of Animals and Plants,’ txt Edit. vol ii
Pp 4gt—F, D,
280 RELIGION,
“ Every one who believes, as I do, that all the corporeal
and mental organs (excepting those which are neither advane
tagvous nor disadvantageous to the possessor) of all beings
have been developed through natural selection, or the survival
of the fittest, together with use or habit, will admit that these
organs have been formed so that their possessors may com=
pete suiecessfully with other beings, and thus increase in num
ber. Now an animal may be led to pursue that course of
action which is most beneficial to the species by suffering,
such as pain, hunger, thirst, and fear; or by pleasure, as in
eating and drinking, and in the propagation of the species,
&c.; or by both means combined, as in the search for food.
But pain or suffering of any kind, if Jong continued, causes
depression and lessens the power of action, yet is well adapted
to make a creature guard itself against any great or sudden
evil. Pleasurable sensations, on the other hand, may be long
continued without any depressing effect; on the contrary,
they stimulate the whole system to increased action, Hence
it has come to pass that most or all sentient beings have been
developed in such a manner, through natural selection, that
pleasurable sensations serve as their habitual guides, We see
this in the pleasure from exertion, even occasionally from
great exertion of the body er mind—in the pleasure of our
daily meals, and especially in the pleasure derived from sociay
bility, and from loving our families. The sum of such pleas
ures as these, which are habitual or frequently recurrent, give,
os I can hardly doubt, to most sentient beings an excess of
happiness over misery, although many occasionally suffer
tuch, Such suffering is quite compatible with the belief in
Natural Selection, which is not perfect in its action, but tends
only to render each species as successful as possible in the
battle for life with other species, in wonderfully complex and
changing circumstances,
“That there is mmch suffering im the world no one dis-
putes, Some haye attempted to explain this with reference
to man by imagining that it serves for his moral improvement,
But the number of men in the world is as nothing compared
RELIGION, 281
with that of all other sentient beings, and they often suffer
greatly without any moral improvement. This very old argu-
ment from the existence of suffering against the existence of
an intelligent First Cause seems to me a strong one; whereas,
ay just remarked, the presence of much suffering agrees well
_ with the view that all organic beings have been developed
through variation and natural selection.
“At the present day the most usual argument for the exe
istence of an intelligent God is drawn from the deep inward
conviction and feelings which are experienced by most persons,
© Formerly I was led by feelings such as those just referred
to (although I do not think that the religious sentiment was
ever strongly developed in me), to the firm conviction of the
existence of God, and of the immortality of the soul. In my
Journal I wrote that whilst standing in the midst of the grand-
eur of a Brazilian forest, “it is not possible to give an ade-
quate idea of the higher feelings of wonder, admiration, and
devotion, which fill and elevate the mind." I well remember
my conviction that there is more in man than the mere breath
of his body. But now the grandest scenes would not cause
any such convictions and feelings to rise in my mind. It
may be truly said that Tam like a man who has become
‘colour-blind, and the universal belicf by men of the existence
* of redaess makes my present loss of perception of not the
least value as evidence. ‘This argument would be a valid one
ifall men of all races had the sime inward conviction of the
existence of one God ; but we know that this is very far from
being the case, Therefore I cannot sce that stich inward
convictions and feelings are of any weight as evidence of what
‘really exists. The state of mind which grand scenes formerly
excited in me, and which was intimately connected with a
belief in God, did not essentially differ from that which is
‘often called the sense of sublimity; and however difficult it
may be to explain the genesis of this sense, it can hardly be
advanced as an argument for the existence of God, any more
than the powerful though vague and similar feelings excited
by music. “
“With respect to immortality, nothing shows me [so
clearly] how strong and almost instinctive # belief it is, as the
consideration of the view now held by most physicists, namely,
that the sun with all the plancts will in tim> graw too cold
for life, unless indeed some great body dashes into the sun,
and thus gives it fresh life, Believing as I do that man in
the distant future will be a far more perfect creature than he
now is, it is an intolerable thought that he and all other senti-
ent beings arc doomed to complete annihilation after such
Jong-continued slow progress, To those who fully admit the
immortality of the human soul, the destruction of our world
will not appear so dreadful.
“Another source of conviction in the existence of God,
connected with the reason, and not with the feelings, im-
presses me as having much more weight. ‘This follows from
the extreme difficulty or rather impossibility of conceiving
this immense and wonderful universe, including man with his
capacity of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the
result of blind chance or necessity. When thus reflecting 1
feel compelled to look to a First Cause having an intelligent
mind in some degree analogous to that of man; and I de-
serve to be called a Theist. This conclusion was strong in
my mind about the time, as far ay 1 can remember, when I
wrote the “Origin of Species ;" and it is since that time that
it has very gradually, with many fluctuations, become weaker,
Bur then arises the doubt, can the mind of man, which has,
25 I fully believe, been developed from a mind as low as that
possessed by the lowest animals, be trusted when it draws
such grand conclusions?
“I cannot pretend to throw the least light on such ab-
struse problems. The mystery of the beginning of all things
is insoluble by us; and 1 for one must be content to remain
an Agnostic.”
‘The following letters repeat to some extent what has
been given from the Autobiography. ‘The first one refers to
"The Boundaries of Science, a Dialogue,” published in ‘Mac-
miflan's Magazine,’ for July 1861.)
RELIGION. 283
©. Darwin to Miss Julia Wedgwood.
July 12 [186r),.
Some one has sent us ‘Macmillan’; sad I must tell you
how much I admire your Article; though at the same time I
must confess that I could not clearly follow you in’ some
parts, which probably is in main part due to my not being at
all accustomed to metaphysical trains of thought. 1 think
that you understand my book * perfectly, and that I find a
very rare event with my critics, The ideas in the last page
have several times vaguely crossed my mind, Owing to sev-
eral correspondents I have been led lately to think, or rather
to try to think over some of the chief points discussed by
you, But the result has been with me a maze—something
like thinking on the origin of evil, to which you allude, The
mind refuses to look at this universe, being what it is, with-
out having been designed; yet, where one would most ex-
pect design, viz, in the structure of a sentient being, the more
I think on the subject, the less I can see proof of design,
Asa Gray and some others look at each variation, or at least
at cach beneficial variation (which A, Gray would compare
with the rain drops ¢ which do not fall on the sea, but on to
the land to fertilize it) as having been providentially designed.
Yet when [ask him whether he looks at each variation in
the rock-pigeon, by which man has made by accumulation a
pouter or fantail pigeon, as providentially designed for man’s
# The * Origin of Species.”
+ Dr. Gray's raindrop metaphor occurs in the way ‘Darwin and his
Reviewors' ('Darwinlana,’ p, x57): The whole animate life of a country
epends absolutcly upon the vegetation, the vegetation upon the rain.
‘The moisture is furnished by the ocean, is raised by the aun's heat from
the ocean's surface, and is watted inland by tho winds. But what mulile
tudes of raindrops fall back into the ocean—are as much without final
‘eave as the incipient varieties which come to nothing! Does it therefore
follow that the rain which are bestowed upon the soil with such rule and
avernge regularity were not designed to support vegetable and animal
1ife?"*
—=
284 RELIGION,
amusement, he does not know what to answer; and if he, of
any one, admits [that] these variations are accidental, as far
as purpose is concerned (of course not accidental as to their
cause or origin); then 1 can see no reason why he should
rank the accumulated variations by which the beautifully
adapted woodpecker has been formed, as providentially de«
signed, For it would be easy to imagine the enlarged erop
‘of the pouter, or tail of the fantail, as of some use to birds,
in a state of nature, having peculiar habits of life, ‘These
are the considerations which perplex me about design; but
whether you will oare to hear them, I know not,
[On te subject ot dake ineis (uy 1860) to Dr Gry:
“One word more on ‘designed laws” and ‘undesigned
results,’ Isce a bird which I want for food, take my gun
and kill it, do this desigaedly. Am innocent and good man
stands under a tree and is killed by a flash of lightning. Do
you Delieve (and f really should like te hear) that God de
‘ignedly killed this man? Many of most persons do believe
this; I can’t and don’t. If you believe so, do you believe
that when a swallow snaps up a gnat that God designed that
that particular swallow should snap up that particular gaat
at that particular instant? I believe that the man and the
gnat are in the same prodicament. If the death of neither
man nor gaat are designed, I sec no good reason to believe
that their first birth or production should be necessarily de-
signed")
C. Darwin W. Graham.
Down, July 3rd, 1881,
Duan Sis,
T hope thar you will not think it intrusive on my part to
thank you heartily for the pleasure which I have derived
from reading your admirably written "Creed of Science,’
though I have not yet quite finished it, as now that Iam old
I read very slowly. It i. very long time since any other
book has interested me sa much. The work must have cost
you several years and much bard labour with full leisure for
RELIGION. 28s
work. You would not probably expect any one fully to agree
with you on so many abstruse subjects; and there are some
points in your book which I cannot digest. The chief one is
that the existence of so-called natural laws implies purpose,
I cannot see this. Not to mention that many expect that
the several great laws will some day be found to follow
inevitably from some one single Inw, yet taking the laws as
we now know them, and look at the moon, where the law of
geavitation—and no doubt of the conservation of energy—of
the atomic theory, &c. &c., hold good, and I cannot see thar
there is then necessarily any purpose. Would there be pur-
pose if the lowest organisms alone, destitute of consciousness
existed in the moon? But I have had no practice in abstract
reasoning, and I may be all astray. Nevertheless you yhave
expressed my inward conviction, though far more vividly and
clearly than I could have done, that the Universe is not the
result of chance.* But then with me the horrid doubt always
arises whether the convictions of man’s mind, which has been
developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any
value or at all trustworthy. Would any one trust in the con-
victions of a monkey's mind, if there are any convictions in
such amind? Secondly, I think that I could make some-
what of a case against the enormous importance which you
attribute to our greatest men; I have been accustomed to
think, second, third, and fourth rate men of very high ime
portance, at Ieast in the case of Science, Lastly, T could
show fight on natural selection having done and doing more
* The Duke of Argyll (“Good Was) Ap, 1885, j. 249) bas recorded
a2 few words on this subject, ypoken by my father in the last year of his ji
*. .. in the course of that conversation I sald to Mr. Darwn, with rof
‘enc9 to some of his own remarkable works on the * Fertitlzation of Orchids
fand upon ‘The Easthworms,° and various other obvervations he made of
the wonderful contrivances for certain purposes in nature—T nid it waa
Impoutible to look at these without secing that they were the effect and
the expression of mind, 1 shall never forgot Mr. Darwin's answer, He
Tooked at me very hand and said, ‘ Well, that often comes over me with
‘overwhelming force ; but at other times,’ and he shook hin head vaguely,
adding, *it seem» to go away.”
286 RELIGION.
for the progress of civilization than you seem inclined to
admit. Remember what risk the nations of Europe fan, not
so many centuries ago of being overwhelmed by the Turks,
and how ridiculous such an idea now is! The more civilized
so-called Caucasian races have beaten the Turkish hollow in
the struggle for existence, Looking to the world at no very
stant date, what an endless number of the lower races will
have been climinated by the higher civilized races through.
out the world. But I will write no more, and not even men-
tion the many points in your work which have much inter-
ested me, I have indeed cause to apologise for troubling
you with my impressions, and my sole excuse is the excite-
ment in my mind which your book has aroused.
T beg leave to remain,
Dear Sir,
Yours faithfully and obliged,
Curarurs Darwin,
[My father spoke little on these subjects, and I cam con=
tribute nothing from my own recollection of his conversation
which can add to the impression here given of his attitude
towards Religion. Some further idea of his views may, how-
ever, be gathered from occasional remarks in his letters.]*
* Dr. Aveling has published an account of a convenation with my
father, 1 think that the readers of this pamphlet ("The Ketigious Views
of Chattes Darwin, Free ‘Thought Publishing Company, 1883) may be
misled into seeing more resemblance than really existed between the poe
sitions of my father awit Dr. Aveling: and T say this im spite of my cone
viction that Dr. Aveling gives quile fairly his impressions of my father's
views. Dr. Aveling tried to show that the terms" Agountie” and Atheist ™
were practically equivalent—that an athelst &s one who, without denying
the existence of God, Is without God, inasmuch ax he Is unconvinced of
the exisience of a Deity. My father's replies implied his preference for
the unaggresive attitude of au Agnentic. Dr. Aveling seems (p. 5) t0
regard the absence of aggressiveness in my (aaher's views ax distinguishin
them in an anewentlal manner from his own. But, in sey judgment, i
prechely differences of thin kind which itingwhsh him sc completely (rots
the class of thinkers to which Dr. Aveling belongs.
r
CHAPTER IX.
Lire AT Down.
842-1854.
“My life goes on like clockwork, and Tam fised on the spat where E
shall end it."
Letter to Captain Fits-Roy, October, 1846.
[Wren the view of giving in the following chapters a con-
nected account of the growth of the ‘Origin of Species,” I
have taken the more important letters bearing on that subject
out of their proper chronological position here, and placed
them with the rest of the correspondence bearing on the same
subject ; so that in the present group of letters we only get
occasional hints of the growth of my father's views, and we
may suppose ourselves to be looking at his life, as it might
have been looked at by those who had no knowledge of
the quict development of his theory of evolution during this
period.
On Sept. 14, #842, my father left London with his family
and settled at Down.* In the Autobiographical chapter, his
motives for taking this step in the country are briefly given.
He speaks of the attendance at scientific societies, and ordi-
sary social duties, as suiting his health so “badly that we
* T must not omit to mention a member of the household who accor
panied him. This was his butler, Joseph ParsJow, whe remained in the
family, 2 valued friend and servam, for forty years, ancl became, as Si
Joseph Hooker once remarked {o me, "an intogral part of the family, and
felt to be such by all visitors at the house."
288 LIFE AT DOWN. TAT. 33-45.
resolved to live in the country, which we both preferred and
have never repented of" His intention of keeping up with
scientific life in London is expressed in a letter to Fox (Dec.,
1332)
“TI hope by going up to town for a night every fortnight
‘or three weeks, to keep up my communication with scieatifie
men and my own zeal, and so not to turn into a complete
Kentish hog.”
Visits to London of this kind were kept up for some years
at the cost of much exertion on his part. I have often heard
him speak of the wearisome drives of ten miles to or from
Croydon or Sydenham—the ‘fiearest stations—with an old
gardener acting as coachman, who drove with great caution
and slowness up and down the many hills. In later years,
all regular scientific intercourse with London became, as be-
fore mentioned, an impossibility.
‘The choice of Down was rather the result of despair than
of actual preference; my father and mother were weary of
house-hunting, and the attractive points about the place thas
seemed to them to counterbalance its somewhat more obvious
faults. Tt had at least one desideratum, namely quietness.
Indeed it would have been difficult to find a more retired
place so near to London, In 1842 4 coach drive of some
twenty miles was the only means of access to Down; and
even now that railways have crept closer to it, it is singularly
‘out of the world, with nothing to suggest the neighbour-
hood of London, unless it be the dull haze of smoke that
sometimes clouds the sky. The village stands in an angle
between two of the larger high-roads of the country, one
leading to Tunbridge and the other to Westerham and Eden-
bridge. It is cut off from the Weald by a line of steep chalk
hills on the south, and an abrupt hill, now smoothed down
by a cutting and embankment, must formerly have been
something of a barrier against encroachments from the side
of London. In such a situation, # village, communicating
with the main*lines of traffic, only by stony tortuous lanes,
may well have been enabled to preserve its retired character.
THE VILLAGE, 289
Nor is it hard to believe in the smugglers and their strings
of pack-horses making their way up from the lawless old
villages of the Weald, af which the inemory still existed
when my father settled in Down. The village stands on
solitary upland country, 500 to 600 feet above the seay—a
country with little natural beauty, but possessing a certain
charm in the shaws, or straggling strips of wood, capping the
chalky banks and looking down upon the quiet ploughed
lands of the valleys, The village, of three or four hundred
inhabitants, consists of three small streets of cottages meeting
im front of the little flint-built church. It is a place where
hew-comers are seldom seen,-and the names occurring far
back in the old church registers are still well known in the
village. The smock-frock is not yet quite extinct, though
chiefly used as a ceremonial dress by the “ bearers" at funer-
als: but asa boy I remember the purple or green smacks of
the men at church,
‘The house stands a quarter of a mile from the village, and
is built, like co many houses of the last century, as near as
possible to the road—a narrow lane winding away to the
Westerham high-road, In 1842, it was dull and unattractive
enough: a square brick building of three storeys, covered
with shabby whitewash and hanging tiles The garden
had none of the shrubberies or walls that now give shelter;
it was ovettooked from the lane, and was open, bleak, and
| desolate, One of my father's first undertakings was to lower
the lane by about two feet, and to build a flint wall along that
part of it which bordered the garden. The earth thus exea-
vated was used in making banks and mounds round the
| lawns these were planted with evergreens, which now give
to the garden its retired and sheltered character.
| ‘The house was made ‘to look neater by being covered with
stuceo, but the chief improvement effected was the building
‘of a Inrge bow extending up through three storeys. This
bow became covered with a tangle of creepers, and pleasantly
varied the south side of the house, ‘The drawing-room, with
its verandah opening into the garden, as well as the study in
=_ -
290 LIFE AT DOWN. ETAT. 39-35.
which my father worked during the later years of his life,
were added at subsequent dates.
Eighteen acres of land were sold with the house, of which
twelve acres on the south side of the house formed & pleasant
field, scattered with fair-sized oaks and ashes, From this
field a strip was cut off and converted into a kitchen
in which the experimental plot of ground was situated, and
where the greenhouses were ultimately put up,
‘The following letter to Mr. Fox (March 28th, 1843) gives
among other things my father's early impressions of Down —
“Twill tell you all the trifling particulars about myself that
Tcan think of, We are now exceedingly busy with the first
brick taid down yesterday to an addition to our house ; with
this, with almost making a new kitchen garden and sundry
other projected schemes, my days are yery full. I find all
this very bad for geology, but I am very slowly progressing
with a volume, or rather pamphlet, on the volcanic islands
which we visited: 1 manage only a couple of hours per day
and that not very regalarly. It is wphill work writing books,
which cost money in publishing, and which are not read even
by geologists. 1 forget whether I ever described this place :
it is a good, very ugly house with 18 acres, situated on a chalk
flat, 560 feet above sea. There are peeps of far distant
country and the scenery is moderately pretty: its chief merit
is its extreme rurality. I think I was never in a more per-
fectly quiet country. Three miles south of us the great chalk
‘escarpment quite ents us off from the low country of Kent,
and between us and the escarpment there is not a village or
gentleman's house, but anly great woods and arable fields (the
latter in sadly preponderant numbers), so that we are abso-
jutely at the extreme verge of the world, ‘The whole country
is intersected by foot-paths ; but the surface over the chalk is
cisyey and sticky, which is the worst feature in our purchase,
The dingles and banks often remind me of Cambridgeshire
and walks with you to Cherry Hinton, and other places,
though the general aspect of the country is very different, I
was looking over my arranged cabinet (the only remnant I
‘JOURNAL OF RESEARCHES! 29t
have preserved of all my English insects), and was admiring
Crux-major: it ix curious the vivid manner in
which this insect calls up in my mind your appearance, with
little Fan trotting after, when I was first introduced to you,
‘Those entomological days were very pleasant ones, Tam very
much stronger corporeally, but am little better its being able
to stand mental fatigue, of rather excitement, so that I cannot
dine out or receive visitors, except relations with whom I can
‘pass some time after dianer in silence.”
T could have wished to give here some idea of the position
which, at this period of his life, my father occupied among
scientific men and the reading public generally. But con~
temporary notices are few and of no particular value for my
purpose,—which therefore must, in spite of a good deal of
pains, remain unfulfilled,
His ‘ Journal of Researches‘ was then the only one of his
books which had any chance of being commonly known. But
the fact that it was published with the ‘ Voyages of Captains
King and Fita-Roy probably interfered with its general popu
larity. ‘Thus Lyell wrote to him in 1838 (‘ Lyell’s Lifey
43), “I assure you my father is quite enthusiastic about
your joumal..., and he agrees with me that it would have
a large sale if published separately, He was disappointed
at hearing that it was to be fettcred by the other volumes, for,
although he should equally buy it, he feared so many of the
public would be checked from doing 0." In a notice of the
three voyages in the “Edinburgh Review * (July, 1439), there
is nothing leading a reader to believe that he would find it
more attractive than its fellow-volumes, And, as a fact, it
did not become widely known until it was separately pub-
lished in 1845. Tt may be noted, however, that the ‘ Quar
terly Review" (December, 1839) called the attention of its
readers to the merits of the ‘Journal’ as a book of travels
‘The reviewer speaks of the “charm arising from the fresh-
ness of heart which is thrown over these virgin pages af a
strong intellectual man and an acute and deep observer.”
‘The German translation (1844) of the ‘ Journal received
292 LIFE AT DOWN. ARTAT, x45,
a favourable notice in No. 12 of the ‘Heidelberger Juhr-
biicher der Literatur,’ 1847—where the Reviewer speaks of
the author's “varied canvas, on which he sketches in lively
colours the strange customs of those distant regions with their
remarkable fauna, flora and geological peculiarities." Alluding
to the translation, my father writes—“Dr. Dietfenbach . . .
has translated my ‘Journal’ into German, and 1 must, with
unpardonable vanity, boast that it was at the’ instigation of
Liebig and Humbolde.”
‘The geological work of which hespeaks in the above letter
to Mr. Fox occupied him for the whole of 1843, and was pub-
lished in the spring of the following year. It was entitled
‘Geological Observations on the Voleanic Islands, visited
during the voyage of H. M.S. Hangie, together with some brief
notices on the geology of Australia and the Cape of Good
Hope": it formed the second part of the ‘Geology of the
Voyage of the Seayle,’ published “with the Approval of the
Lords Commissioners of Her Majesty's Treasury.” ‘The
volume on *Coral Reefs’ forms Part I. of the series, and was
published, as we have seen, in 1842. For the sake of the
non-geological reader, I may here quote Professor Geikic’s
words* on these two volumes—which were up to this time
my father’s chief geological works. Speaking of the * Coral
Reefs," he says —p, £7, “This well-known treatise, the most
original of all its author's geological memoirs, has become
one of the classics of geological literature. The origin of
those remarkable rings of coral-rock in mid-occan has given
rise to much speculation, but no satisfactory solution of the
problem has been proposed. After visiting many of them,
and examining also coral reefs that fringe islands and con
tinents, be offered a theory which for simplicity and grandeur
strikes every reader with astonishment. It is pleasant, after
the lapse of many years, to recall the delight with which one
first read the Coral Reefs"; how one watched the facts being
marshalled into their places, nothing being ignored or passed
* Chaties Darwin, * Nature* Series, 1882,
THEORY OF CORAL ISLANDS. 293
Tightly over; and how, step by step, one was led to the grand
conclusion of wide oceanic subsidence. No more admirable
example of scientific method was ever given to the world,
and even if he had written nothing else, the treatise alone
would have placed Darwin in the very front of investigators
of nature."
At is interesting to sve in the following extract from one of
Lyell's letters* how warmly and readily he embraced the
theory, The extract also gives incidentally some idea of the
theory itself.
“Tam very full of Darwin's new theory of Coral Islands,
and have urged Whewell to make him read it at our next
meeting. I must give up my volcanic crater theory for ever,
though it cost me a pang at first, for it accounted for so much,
the annular form, the central lagoon, the sudden rising of an
‘isolated mountain in a deep sea; all went so well with the
notion of submerged, crateriform, and conical volcanoes, . . .
and then the fact that in the South Pacific we had scarcely
any rocks in the regions of coral islands, save two kinds, coral
limestone and volcanic! Yet spite of all this, the whole
theory is knocked on the head, and the annular shape and
central lagoon have nothing to do with volcanoes, nor even
with a crateriform bottom, Perhaps Darwin told you when
at the Cape what he considers the true cause? Let any
mountain be submerged gradually, and coral grow in the sea
in which it is sinking, and there will be a ring of coral, and
finally only a lagoon in the centre. Why? For the same
teason that a barrier reef of coral grows along certain coasts :
Australia, &c, Coral islands are the last efforts of drowning
continents to lift their heads above water. Regions of eleva-
tion and subsidence in the ocean may be traced by the state
‘of the coral reefs.” There is little to be said as to published
contemporary criticism. The book was not reviewed in the
“Quarterly Review’ till 1347, when a favourable notice was
* To Sir Jobn Herschel, May 24, 1837. ‘Life of Slr Charles Lyell,’
Uh pea
204 LIFE AT DOWN. ETAT. 3iys.
given, ‘The reviewer speaks of the “bold and startling”
character of the work, but seems to recognize the fact that
the views are generally accepted by geologists, By that time
the minds of men were becoming more ready to receive geol-
‘ogy of this type. Even ten years before, in 1837, Lyell
says, “people are now much better prepared to believe Dar
win when he advances proafs of the slow rise of the Andes,
than they were in 1830, when I first startled them with that
doctrine.” This sentence refers to the theory elaborated in
my father’s geological observations on South America (1846),
but the gradual change in receptivity of the geological mind
must haye been favourable to all his geological work. Nevers
theless, Lyell seems at first not to have expected any ready
acceptance of the Coral theory ; thus he wrote to my father
is 1837:—"I could think of nothing for days after your
lesson on coral reefs, but of the tops of submerged continents.
It is all true, but do not flatter yourself that you will be be-
lieved till you are growing bald like me, with hard work and
vexation at the incredulity of the world.”
‘The second part of the 'Gealogy of the Voyage of the
Beagle! i.e, the volume on Volcanic Islands, which specially
‘concerns us now, cannot be better described than by again
quoting from Professor Geikie (p, 18) ==
“ Full of detailed obscevations, this work still remains the
best authority on the general geological structure of most of
the regions it describes. At the time it was written the
‘crater of elevation theory,’ though opposed by Constant
Prévost, Scrope, and Lyell, was generally accepted, at least
‘on the Continent. Darwin, however, could not receive it as
a valid explanation of the facts; and though he did not share
the view of its chief opponents, but ventured to propose a
hypothesis of his own, the observations impartially made and
described by him in this volume must be regarded as having
contributed towards the final solution of the difficulty." Pro-
fessor Geikie continues (p. 21): “He is one of the earliest
* Life of Sit Charles Lyell,’ vol. ii. p. &
“GEOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS! 295
writers to recognize the magnitude of the denudation to which
even recent geological accumulations have been subjected,
One of the most impressive lessons to be learnt from his ac«
count of ' Voleanic Islands’ is the prodigious extent to which
they have been denuded, . . . He was disposed to attribute
more of this work to the sea than most geologists would now
admit; but he lived himself to modify his original views, and on
this subject his latest utterances are quite abreast of the time.”
An extract from a letter of my father's to Lyell shows his
estimate of his own work. “You have pleased me much by
saying that you intend looking through my ‘Volcanic Isl-
ands’: it cost me cighteen months! { ! and I have heard of
ery few who have read it. Now I shall feel, whatever little
{and little it is) there is confirmatory of old work, or new,
will work its effect and not be lost."
‘The third of his geological books, ‘Geological Observa-
tions on South America,’ may be mentioned here, although it
was not published until 1846, In this work the author em-
bodied all the materials collected by him for the illustration
of South American Geology, save some which have been pub-
lished elsewhere, One of the most important features of the
book was the evidence which it brought forward to prove the
slow interrupted elevation of the South American Continent
during a recent geological period." *
Of this book my father wrote to Lyell —" My volume will
beubout 240 pages, dreadfully dull, yet much condensed, {
think whenever you have time to look through it, you will
think the collection of facts on the elevation of the land and
on the formation of terraces pretty good.”
Of his special geological work as a whole, Professor Geikie,
while pointing out that it was not “of the same epoch-making
kind as his biological researches," remarks that he "gave a
powerful inmpulse to" the general reception of Lyell's teach
ing “ by the way in which he gathered from all parts of the
world facts in its support.”
* Geikie, dye, ft,
Work or tHe Perion 142 To 1854.
‘The work of these years may be roughly divided into a
period of geology ftom 1842 to 1846, and one of zoology from
1846 onwards.
Textract from his diary notices of the time spent on his
fical books and on his * Journal.”
‘Volcanic Islands,’ Suimmer of 1842 to January, 844.
“Geology of South America.’ July, 1844, to April, £845.
Second Edition of ‘The Journal,’ October, 1845, to Octo-
ber, 1846.
The time between October, 1846, and October, 1854, was
practically given up to working at the Cirripedia (Barnactes) ;
the results were published in two volumes by the Ray Society
in 1851 and 1854. His volumes on the Fossil Cirripedes
were published by the Paleontographical Society in 1851
and 1854. R
‘Some account of these volumes will be given later.
‘The minor works may be placed together, independently
of subject matter,
“Observations on the Structure, &c., of the genus Sagitta,””
Ann. Nat. Hist. xiii., 1844, pp. 1-6.
“Rrief Descriptions of several Terrestrial Planarix, &e.."
Ann, Nat, Hist, siv., 1844, pp. 241-251.
“Aon Account of the Fine Dust* which often Falls on
Vessels in the Atlantic Ocean,” Geol. Soc. Journ, ii. 1846, pp.
26-30
“Qn the Geology of the Falkland Islands,” Geol. Soc.
Jour. ii., 1846, pp. 267-274.
“On the Transportal of Exratic Boulders, &c.," Geol. Soe.
Journ. fv,, 1848, pp. gxs-32g-¢
* A sentence occur in this paper of interest, as showing that the author
was alive to the ioporsance of al means of disteibution :—" The fact that
particles of this sire have been brought at least 30 miles from the land.
‘» interesting as bearing on the distribution of Cryptogamic plate
# An extract foom & letter to Lyell, 1847, inof intereat In connection ith
chis eway -—" Would you be so good {if you know it) as ve put Macharee’s
WORK OF THE PERIOD. 207
‘The article “ Geology,” in the Admiralty Manual of Sei-
entific Enquiry (1849), pp. 156-195. ‘This was written in the
spring of 1848.
“On British Fossil Lepadida,
1850, pp. 439-440.
“ Analogy of the structure of some Volcanic Rocks with
that of Glaciers," ‘Edin, Roy. Soc. Proc.’ ii., r85z, pp. 17-18.
Professor Geikie has been so good as to give me (in a
letter dated Nov. 1885) his impressions of my father's article
in the ‘Admiralty Manual." He mentions the following
points as characteristic of the work :—
“x, Great breadth of view. No one who had not pracy
tically studied and profoundly reflected on the questions dis-
cussed could have written it.
“a. The insight so remarkable in all that Mr, Darwin
ever did, The way in which he points out lines of enquiry
that would elucidate geological problems is eminently typical
of him, Some of these lines have never yet been adequately
followed; so with regard to them he was in advance of his
time,
_ “Interesting and sympathetic treatment, The author
at once puts his readers into harmony with bim, He gives
them enough of information to show how delightful the field
fg to which he invites them, and how much they might ac-
complish in it, There is a broad sketch of the subject
Address on the encloved letter and post it. Tt is ebiefly toenquire in whar
paper he has described the Boulders on Arthur's Seat. Mr. D, Milne in
the last Edinburgh ‘New Phil, Journal [riq7], hax a long paper on it
Mo says: * Some glacialists have ventured to explain the transportation of
houlders even in the situation of thove now referred to, by smaginiog that
they were transported on ice floes &e. He treats this view, and ‘the
scratching of rocks by {eebergs, as almost abyurd . . . he has finally stirred
‘me up se, that (Without you would auswer bli) { think I will send a paper
in opposition to the same Journal. I can thus introduce some old remarks
OF mine, and some new, and will Insist on your eapital observations in N.
‘Americ, Tt is a bore 10 stop one's work, but he bas made me quite
‘wroth”
20
Geol, Soc. Journ.’ vi,
LIFE AT DOWN, TAT. ards.
which everybody can follow, and there is enough of detail to
instruct and guide a beginner and start him on the right
track,
“OF course, geology has made great strides since 1849,
and the article, if written now, would need to take notice of
other branches of enquiry, and to modify statements which
are not now quite accurate ; but most of the advice Mr. Dar
win gives is as needful and valuable now as when it was
given, Itis curious to see with what unerring instinct he
seems to have fastened on the principles that would stand
the test of time.”
In a letter to Lyell (1853) my futher wrote, “I went up
for a paper by the Arctic Dr, Sutherland, on ice action, read
only in abstract, but I should think with much good matter,
It was very pleasant to hear that it was written owing to the
Admiralty Manu:
‘To give some idea of the retired life which now began for
my father at Down, I have noted from his diary the short
periods during which he was away from home between the
antumn of 1542, when he came to Down, and the cnd of
1854.
1843, July. —Week at Macr and Shrewsbury.
» Ottober— Twelve days at Shrewsbury.
1844, April-—Week at Maer and Shrewsbury.
a» Falp-—Twelve days at Shrewsbury.
1845, September 1§,—Six weeks, “Shrewsbury, Lincoln
jire, York, the Dean of Manchester, Waterton,
Chatsworth.”
1846, Febrwary.—Eleven days at Shrewsbury.
» Suly—Ten days at Shrewsbury.
te Seftember—Ten days at Southampton, &c., for the
British Association.
1847, Fedroary.—Twelve days at Shrewsbury,
= June —Ten days at Oxford, &., for the British As
‘sociation. c
nm October,—Fortnight at Shrewsbury.
ua) | CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY, 209
uly, —Week at Swanage,
October —Fortnight at Shrewsbury.
» Nowember—Eleven days at Shrewsbury.
1849, March fo June —Sixteen weeks at Malvern,
+ September-—Eleven days at Birmingham for the
British Association,
3850, June—Week at Malvern,
‘August—Week at Leith Hill, the house of a relative,
October Week at the house of another relative.
March —Week at Malvern,
—Nine days at Malvern.
Twelve days in London,
1852, March—Week at Rugby and Shrewsbury.
1 Séptember-—Six days at the house of a relative,
1853, July.—Three weeks at Eastbourne.
1, August —Five days at the military Camp at Chob-
ham,
1854, March.—Five days at the house of a relative.
July —Three days at the house of a relative,
October-—Six days at the house of a relative.
Te will be seen that he was absent from home sixty weeks
In twelve years, But it must be remembered that much of
the remaining time spent at Down was lost through ill-
health.)
1848, May —Fortnight at Shrewsbury.
Je
Lerrers,
©, Darwin lo R. Fits Rey.
Down [March jast, 1843),
Dear Fits-Rov,—I read yesterday with surprise and the
Greatest interest, your appointment as Governor of New Zea
land. Ido not know whether to congratulate you on it, but
Tam sure 1 may the Colony, on possessing your zeal and
energy. Iam most anxious to know whether the report is
true, for I cannot bear the thoughts of your leaving the
country without sceing you once again; the past is often in
my memory, and § feel that 1 owe to you much bygone
been stronger) would have been one full of satisfaction to me.
Daring the last three months f have never once gone up to
London without intending to call in the hopes of sceing Mrs,
FitzRoy and yourself; but I find, most unfortunately for
myself, that the little excitement of breaking out of my most
quiet routine so generally knocks me up, that 1 am able to do
scarcely anything when in London, and I have not even been
able to attend one evening meeting of the Geological Society.
Otherwise, I am very well, as are, thank God, my wife and —
two children. ‘The extreme retirement of this place suits us
all very well, and we enjoy our country life much. But I am.
writing trifles about myself, when your mind and time must
be fully oceupied, My object in writing is to beg of you or
Mrs. Fitz-Roy to have the kindness to send me one line to
say whether it is true, and whether you sail soon, T shall
comme up next week for one or (wo days; could you see me
for even five minutes, if I called early on Thursday
viz. at nine or ten o'clock, or at whatever hour (if you keep
early ship hours) you finish your breakfast,
me very kindly to Mrs, Fitz-Roy, who I trust
at her long voyage with boldness.
Believe me, dear Fitz-Roy,
Your ever truly obliged,
Cirartes Darwin,
[A quotation from another letter (1846) to FitzRoy may
be worth giving, as showing my father’s affectionate remem
brance of his old Captain.
“Farewell, dear Fitz-Roy, 1 often think of your many
acts of kindness to me, and not seldomest on the time, no
doubt quite forgotten by you, when, before making Madeira,
you came and arranged my hammock with your own hands,
and which, as I afterwards heard, brought tears into my
father's cyes."]
84g.) VESTIGES OF CREATION! jor
©. Darwin ta W. D. Fox.
(Down, September 5, 1843.)
Monday morning.
My pear Fox,—When I sent off the glacier paper, I was
just going out and so had no time to write. I hope your
friend will enjoy (and I wish you were going there with him)
his tour as much as I did, It was a kind of geological novel,
But your friend must have patience, for he will not get a
good glacial eye for a few days, Murchison and Count Key
setling rushed through North Wales the same autumn and
could see nothing except the effects of rain trickling over
the rocks! I cross-examined Murchison a little, and evi-
dently saw he had looked carefully at nothing, I feel eerfiain
about the glacicr-effects in North Wales. Get up your steam,
if this weather lasts, and have a ramble in Wales; its glorious
scenery must do every one’s heart and body good, 1 wish T
had energy to come to Delamere and go with you; but as
you observe, you might as well ask St. Paul's. Whenever I
give myself trip, it shall be, I think, to Scotland, to hunt
for more parallel roads. My marine theory for these roads
was for a time knocked on the head by Agassiz ice-work, but
it is now reviving again. . . .
Farewell,—we are getting nearly finished—almost all the
workmen gone, and the gravel laying down on the walks.
Ave Maria! how the money does go. There are twice as
many temptations to extravagance in the country compared
with London. Adios.
Yours,
€. Danwis.
€ Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down [1844].
.... have also read the ‘Vestiges,' * but have been
somewhat less amused at it than you appear to have been =
*' The Vestiges of the Nataral History of Creation * was published
unonymoualy in 1844, and is confidently believed to have been written bry
302
the writing and arrangement are certainly admirable, but |
geology strikes me as bad, a1 is zoology far worse. 1
should be very much obliged, if at any future or leisure time
you could tell me on what you ground your doubtful bellet
in imagination of » mother affecting her offspring*® I have
attended to the several statements scattered about, but do not
believe in more than accidental coincidences, W. Hunter
told iny father, then in a lying-in hospital, that in many
thousand cases, he had asked the mother, defore Aer compine=
ment, whether anything had affected her imagination, and re=
corded the answers; and absolutely not one case came right,
though, when the child was anything remarkable, they after-
wards made the cap to fit, Reproduction seems governed by
such similar laws in the whole animal kingdom, that I am
most loth [to believe]. . . .
C. Darwin to f. M. Herbert,
Down [1844 or T8g5):
‘My Draw Hereenr,—I was very glad to see your hand-
writing and hear a bit of news about you ‘Though you can=
not come here this autumn, I do hope you and Mrs, Herbert
will come in the winter, and we will have Jots of talk of old
times, and lots of Beethoven.
the lave Robert Chambers. My father's copy giver signs of having: been
‘carefully read, a long list of marked pasages being pinned in ar the end.
‘One useful lesson he seems to have learned from it. He writes: * The
dea of a fish passing into a reptile, monstrous I will not specify any
unphilosophieal, but expitallywriives book, the * Vestiges*. it has made
‘more talk than any work of late, and has been by some atcritvated (0 me
at which T ought to be much flattered and wnflattered.”
* This refers to the ease of a relative of Sir J. Hooker's, who insted
that a mole, which appeared on one of her children, was the effect of fright
upon herself on having, before the birth of the chili, blotted wish sepia
2 copy of Turner's * Liber Seudiorum * thet had been lent to ber with spe-
slab Injunctions to be careful,
23481 SIR J. D. HOOKER. 403
T haye little or rather nothing to say about myself; we live
like clock-work, and in what most people would consider the
dullest possible manner, 1 have of late been slaving extra
hard, to the great discomfiture of wretched dig:stive organs,
at South America, and thank all the fates, I have done three-
fourths of it Writing plain English grows with me more
and more difficult, and never attainable. As for your pre-
tending that you will read anything so dull as my pure geo-
logical descriptions, lay not such @ flattering wnction on my
soul * for it is incredible, I have long discovered that geolo-
gists never read each other’s works, and that the only object
in writing a book is a proof of earnestness, and that you do
not form your opinions without undergoing labour of some
kind. Geology is at present very oral, and what I here say
is toa great extent quite true. But I am giving you a dis-
cussion as long as a chapter in the odious book itself,
T have lately been to Shrewsbury, and found my father
surprisingly well and cheerful
Believe me, my dear old friend, ever yours,
Cc. Darwin,
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Down, Monday [February coth, 1845).
My pear Hookre,—I am much obliged for your very
agreeable letter; it was very good-natured, in the midst of
your scientific and theatrical dissipation, to think of writing
so long a letter to me, Tam astonished at your news, und 1
must condole with you in your presen! view of the Professor-
ship,f and most heartily deplore iton my own account, ‘There
On the same aubject he wrote 16 Fits-Roy : "I have sent my *South
American Geology ‘to Dover Strect, and you will got it, no doubt, in the
course of time. You do not know what you threaten when you fropase to
reid it—it is purely geological. I said to-my brother, * You will of course
ead it,’ and his anaver was, * Upon my life, T would sooner even buy it."
{Sir J. D. Hooker was a candidate for the Profesorship of Botany at
Rainburgh University.
is something so chilling in a separation of so many hundred
miles, though we did not see much of each other when nearer.
You will hardly believe how deeply I regret for myself your
present prospects. I had looked forward to [our] seeing
much of each other during aur lives, It is a heavy disap-
pointment; and in a mcre selfish point of view, as aiding me
in my work, your loss is indeed irreparable, But, on the
other hand, I cannot doubt that you take at present a de-
sponding, instead of bright, view of your prospects: surely
there are great advantages, as well as disadvantages. The
place is one of eminence; and really it appears to me there
are 60 many indifferent workers, and so few readers, that it
is a high advantage, in a purely scientific point of view, fora
good worker to hold a position which leads others to attend
to his work. I forget whether you attended Edinburgh, as a
student, but in my time there was a knot of men who were
far from being the indifferent and dull listeners which you
expect for your audience. Reflect what 1 satisfaction and
honour it would be to make a good botanist—with your dis-
position you will be to many what Henslow was at Cambridge
to me and others, a most kind friend and guide, Then what
a fing garden, and how good a Public Library! why, Forbes
always regrets the advantages of Edinburgh for work: think
of the incstimable advantage of getting within a short walk of
those noble rocks and hills and sandy shores ncar Edinburgh!
Indeed, I cannot pity you much, though I pity myself ex
ceedingly in your loss, Surely lecturing will, im a year or
two, with your great capacity for work (whatever you may be
pleased to say to the contrary) become easy, and you will
have a fair time for your Antarctic Flora and general views
of distribution. If T thought your Professorship would stop
your work, I should wish it and all the good worldly conse-
quences at ef Diarwe, I know I shall five to see you the
first authority in Europe on that grand subject, that almost
Keystone of the Jaws of creation, Geographical Distribution,
Well, there is one comfort, you will be at Kew, no doubt,
every year, 30 I shall finish by forcing down your throat my
thas.) THE ‘JOURNALS 405
fincere congratulations, Thanks for all your news, 1 grieve
to hear Humboldt is failing ; one cannot help feeling, though
unrightly, that such an end is humiliating: even when I saw
him he talked beyond all reason. If you see him again, pray
gire him my most respectful and kind compliments, and. say
that I never forget that my whole course of life is due to
having read and re-read as a youth Pervonal Narrative.”
How true and pleasing are all your remarks on his kindness ;
think how many opportunities you will have, in your new
place, of being a Humboldt to others. Ask him about the
river in N. E. Europe, with the Flora very different on its
‘opposite banks. I have got and read yonr Wilkes; what a
feeble book in matter and style, and how splendidly got up !
Do write me a line from Berlin, Also thanks for the proof-
sheets. I did not, however, mean proof plates; I value them,
ay saving me copying extracts, Farewell, my dear Hooker,
with a heavy heart I wish you joy of your prospects.
Your sincere friend,
C. Darwin,
[The second edition of the * Journal,’ to which the follow-
ing letter refers, was completed between April 25th and Au-
gust asth, It was published by Mr. Murray in the ‘Colonial
and Home Library,’ and in this more accessible form soon
had a large sale.
Up to the time of his first negotiations with Mr, Murray
for its publication in this form, he had received payment only
in the form of a large number of presentation copies, and he
seems to have been glad to sell the copyright of the second
ition to Mr. Murray for 150/.
‘The points of difference between it and the first edition
are of interest chiefly in connection with the growth of the
author's views on evolution, and will be considered later.|
C. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down (Joly. 284s}.
‘My near Lvett,—I send you the first part® of the new
edition [of the ‘Journal of Researches}, which I so entirely
owe to you. You will see that I have ventured to dedicate it
to you,t and I trust that this cannot be disagreeable. I hare
long wished, not so much for your sake.as for my own feelings
‘of honesty, to acknowledge more plainly than by mere refer=
ence, how much I geologically owe you. ‘Those authors, how-
‘ever, who like you, educate people's minds as well as teach
them special facts, ean never, I should think, have full justice
done them except by posterity, for the mind thus insensibly
improved can hardly perceive its own upward ascent. I had
intended putting in the present acknowledgment in the third
part of my Geology, but its sale is so excecdingly small that
T should not have had the satisfaction of thinking that as far _
as lay in my power I had owned, though imperfectly, my debt,
Pray do not think that I am so silly, a8 to suppose that my
dedication can any ways gratify you, except so far as I trust
you will receive it, as a most sincere mark of my gratitude
and friendship. 1 think I have improved this edition, espe-
cially the second part, which T have just finished. I have
added a good deal about the Fuegians, and cut down into
half the mercilessly long discussion on climate and glaciers,
&c. Ido not recollect anything added to the first part, long
enough to call your attention to; there is a page of descrip:
tion of & very curious breed of oxen in Banda Oriental, 1
should like you to read the few last pages; there,is a little
discussion on extinction, which will not perhaps strike you
* No doubt proofusheets.
+ The dedication of the second editlon of the * Journal of Revesrches,'
is ws follows im""To Charles Lyell, Boy, F. RS, this second edition is
devicated with grateful plesure—as an ncknowledgment that the chief
part of whatever scientific merit this Journal and the other works of the
‘Authot mary posses. has been derived from studying the well-known and.
admirable * Principles of Geology"
1845:] LYELL'S ‘NORTH AMERICA* 307
‘as new, though it bas so struck me, and has placed in my
mind all the difficulties with respect to the causes of extine-
tion, in the same class with other difficulties which are gener-
ally quite overlooked and andervalued by naturalists; Tought,
however, to bave made my discussion longer and shewa by
facts, as 1 easily could, how steadily every species must be
checked in its numbers
I received your Travels * yesterday; and I like exceed-
ingly its external and internal appearance; I read only about
a dozen pages last night (for I was tired with hay-making),
but I saw quite enough to perceive how very much it will in-
terest me, and how many passages will be scored, 1 am
pleased to find a good sprinkling of Natural History; I shall
be astonished if it does not sell very largely. , . .
How sorry I am to think that we shall not see you here
again for so long; I wish you may knock yourself a little bit
up before you start and require a day's fresh air, before the
ocean breezes blow on you... .
Ever yours,
C. Darwin,
C. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, Saturday [August rat, 1845)
Mr near Lye.t,—I have been wishing to write to you for
& week past, but every five minutes’ worth of strength has
been expended in getting ont my second part. Your note
pleased me a good deal more I dare say than my dedication
did you, and T thank you much for it. Your work has in-
terested me much, and I will give you iny impressions,
though, as I never thought you would care to hear what 1
thought of the non-scientific parts, I made no notes, nor
took pains to remember any particular impression of two-
thirds of the first volume. The first impression I should say
© ‘Travels in North America,’ 2 vols., 1845
4 OF the second edition of the *Journal of Researches.”
would be with most (though I have literally seen not
soul since reading it) regret at there not being more of |
‘non-scientific [parts]. I am not a good judge, for I have
read nothing, é.¢. non-scientific about North America, but the
whole struck me as very new, fresh, und interesting. Your
discussions bore to my mind the evident stamp of matured
‘thought, and of conclusions drawn from facts observed by
yourself, and not from the opinions of the people whom you
met; and this T suspect is comparatively rare.
Your slave diseussion disturbed me much; but as you
would care no more for my opinion on this head than for the
ashes of this letter, I will say nothiig except that it gave me
some sleepless, most uncomfortable hours. Your account of
‘the religious state of the States particularly interested me; f
‘am surprised throughout at your very proper boldness against
the Clergy. In your University chapter the Clergy, and not
the State of Education, are most severely and justly handled,
and this I think is very bold, for I conceive you might crush —
a leaden-headed old Don, as a Don, with more safety, than
touch the finger of that Corporate Animal, the Clergy. What
a contrast in Education docs England shew itself! Your
apology (using the term, like the old religionists who meant
anything but an apology) for lectures, struck me as very
lever; but all the arguments in the world on your side, are
not equal to one course of Jamieson's Lectures on the other
side, which I formerly for my sins experienced. Although
Thad read about the ‘Coalfields in North America,’ T never
in the smallest degree really comprehended their area, their
thickness and favourable position ; nothing hardly astounded
me more in your book.
‘Some few parts struck me as rather heterogeneous, but Ido
not know whether to an extent that at all signified. 1 missed.
however, a good deal, some general heading to the chapters,
such as the two or three principal places visited. One has
no right toexpect an author to write down to the zero of geo-
graphical ignorance of the reader; but I not knowing a single
place, was occasionally rather-plagu=d in tracing your course.
1s], LYELL'S ‘PRINCIPLES, 409
Sometimes in the beginning of a chapter, in one paragraph
your course was traced through 2 half dozen places; anyone,
‘as ignorant as myself, if he could be found, would prefer such
‘a disturbing paragraph left out. I-cut your map loose, and I
found that a great comfort; [ could not follow your engraved
track. I think in a second edition, interspaces here and there
‘of one line open, would be an improyement. By the way, I
take credit to myself in giving my Journal a less scientific air
in having printed all names of species and genera in Romans;
the printing looks, also, better. All the illustrations strike
‘me as capital, and the map is an admirable volume in itself.
Tf your * Principles” had not met with such universal adimi-
ration, I should have feared there would have been too much
geology in this for the general reader ; certainly all that the
‘most clear and light style could do, has been done. To my-
self the geology was an excellent, well-condensed, well-di-
gested résumé of all that has been made out in North Amer-
ica, and every geologist ought to be grateful to you, The
summing up of the Niagara chapter appeared to me the
grandest part; I was also deeply interested by your discussion
‘on the origin of the Silurian formations, I have made scores
‘of scores marking passages hereafter useful to me.
All the coal theory appeared to me very good; but it is
no use going on enumerating in this manner. 1 wish there
had been more Natural History; I liked ai the scattered
fragments. 1 have now given you an exact transcript of my
thoughts, but they are hardly worth your reading,
©. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, Auguat 25th [1845].
My DEAR LyeLt,—This is titerally the first day on which
T have had any time to spare; and I will amuse myself by
Deginning a letter to you... .
Twas delighted with your letter in which you touch on
Slavery ; 1 wish the same feelings had been apparent in your
published discussion. But I will not write on this subject, I
should perhaps annoy you, and most certainly Be ¥
bave exhaled myself with a paragraph or two in my J
on the sin of Brazilian slavery ; you perhaps will think
ft is in answer to you; but auch is not the ease,
remarked on nothing I did not hear on the coast of
South America, My few sentences, however, are merely an
explosion of feeling. How could you relate so placidly that
atrocious sentiment * about separating children from their
parents; and in the next page speak of being distressed at
the whites not having prospered; I assure you the contrast:
made me exclaim out, But f have broken my intention, and
s0 no more on this odious deadly subject,
‘There is a favourable, but not strong enough review on
you, in the Gardeners’ Chronicle. I am sorry to see that Lind
ley abides by the carbonic acid gas theory. By the way, ¥
was much pleased by hindley picking out my extinction para~
graphs and giving them uncurtailed. To my mind, putting
the comparative rarity of existing species in the same cate~
gory with extinction has removed a great weight; though of
course it does not explain anything, it shows that until we can
explain comparative rarity, we ought not to feel any surprise
at not explaining extinction, . .
Tam much pleased to hear of the call for a new edition of
the ' Principles": what glorious good that work has done, I
fear this time you will not be amongst the old rocks; how I
shall rejoice to ive to see you publish and discover another
‘stage below the Silurian—it would be the grandest step pos-
sible, I think. T am very glad to hear what progress Bunbury
is making in fossil Botany: there is a fine hiatus for him to
fil up in this countey, Twill certainly call on him this winter.
From what little I saw of him, I can quite believe every~
thing which you say of his talents... .
In the pamage referred to, Lyell does not give his own views, but
thove of x planter,
1845) “cosmos? grt
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Shrewsbury [1845 ?].
My pgax Hooxer,—I have just received your note, which
has astonished me, and has most truly grieved me, I never
for one minute doubted of your success, for 1 most errone=
ously imagined, that merit was sure to gain the day. I feel
most sure that the day will come soon, when those who have
voted against you, if they have any shame or conscience in
them, will be ashamed at having allowed politics to blind their
‘eyes to your qualifications, and those qualifications vouched
for by Humboldt and Brown! Well, those testimonials must
bea consolation to you, Prof fuse! tam vexed and indige
nant by turns. I cannot"even take comfort in thinking that
I shall see more of you, and extract more knowledge from
your well-arranged stock, I am pleased to think, that after
haying read a few of your letters, L never once doubted the
position you will ultimately hold amongst European Botanists,
I can think about nothing else, otherwise I should like [to]
discuss ‘Cosmos"* with you. I trust you will pay me and
my wife a visit this autumn at Down. TI shall be at Down on
the agth, and till then moving about,
My dear Hookers, allow me to call myself
Your very true friend,
C. Darwin,
C. Darwin to C, Eyelt
, October 8th [1845], Shrewsbury,
Thave lately been taking a little tour to see a farm I
have purchased in Lincolnshire,t and then to York, where I
* A translation of Humbolit’s * Kosmos.’
Me speaks of his Lincolnshire farm in a letter to Henstow (July
ath)" E have bought a farm in Lincolnshire, and when I go there this
quturnn, I mean to see what I can do in providing any cottage on my small
eitate with gardens, It is a hopeless thing to Took to, but I believe few
things would do this country more good in future ages than the destruction
az LIFE AT DOWN, TAT, 53-45. Tes
visited the Dean of Manchester,” the great maker of Hybrids,
who gave me much curious information. I also visited
Waterton at Walton Hall, and was extremely amused with my
visit there, He is an amusing strange fellow: at our early
dinner, our party consisted of two Catholic priests and two
Mulattresses! He is past sixty years old. and the day before
ran down and caught a leveret in a turnip-Geld. It i a fine
old house, and the lake swarms with water-fowl, 1 then saw
Chatsworth, and was in transport with the great hothouse;
it is a perfect fragment of a tropical forest, and the sight
made me think with delight of old recollections, My little
ten-ilay tour made me feel wonderfully strong at the time,
but the good effects did not last, My wife, I am sorry to
say, does not get very strong, and the children are the hope
of the family, for they are all happy, life, and spirits, Ihave
Deen much interested with Sedgwick’s review; though I
find it far from popular with our scientific readers. I think
some few passages savour of the dogmatism of the pulpit, rather
than of the philosophy of the Professor's Chair; and some of
the wit strikes me as only worthy of — in the * Quarterly.’
Nevertheless, it Is a grand piece of argument against muta-
bility of species, and I read it with fear and trembling, but
was well pleased to find that I had not overlooked any of the
arguments, though T had put them to myself as feebly as
of primegeniture, sas to Tewen the difference in Land-wealth, and make
more small freeholden. How atrociously unjust are the stamp Yawes, which
render it s0 expensive for the poor man to buy his quarter of an acre; It
makes one’s blood burn with kodignaion.”
* Hon, and Res. W. Herbert. The visit i mentioned in a letter to
Dr. Hooker=—"T have been taking 2 Tittle tour, partly on business, and
Visited the Dean of Manchester, and had very mach interesting talk with
him on hybrids, sterility, and variation, &, Sc. He is foll of selfogainedt
knowledge, but knows surprisingly little what others havedone on the same
subjects. He is very heterndon on *species”: oot much better, ax matt
nturilists wool esteem it, than poor Mr, Vestiges.”
# Sedgwick’s review of the *Vestige of Creation” in the * Edinburgls
Review,’ July, 1845.
£246.) BOTANY, 313
milk and water, Have you read ‘Cosmos’ yet? ‘The Eng-
lish translation is wretched, and the semiemetaphysico-palitico
descriptions in the first part are barely intelligible; but T
think the volcanic discussion well worth your attention, ie has
astonished me by its vigour and information. I grieve to find
Humboldt an adorer of Von Buch, with his classification of
volcanos, craters of elevation, &c,, &c,, and carbonic acid gas
atmosphere. He is indeed a wonderful man,
I hope to get home in a fortnight and stick to my weary
ful South America till T finish I shall be very anxious to
hear how you get on from the Horners, but you must not
think of wasting your time by writing to me. We shall miss,
indeed, your visits to Down, and I shall feel a lost man
in London without my morning “house of call” at Hart
Street... .
Believe me, my dear Lyell, ever yours,
Cc, Darwin,
©, Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, Famborough, Kent
Thursday, September, 1846,
My prar Hooxsr,—I hope this letter will eatch you at
Clifton, but I have been prevented writing by being unwell,
and having had the Horners here as visitors, which, with my
abominable press-work, has fully occupied my time. It is,
indeed, a long time since we wrote to cach ather; though,
beg to tell you, that I wrote last, but what about I cannot
remember, except, [ know, it was after reading your last
numbers,* and I sent you a uniquely laudatory epistle, con-
sidering it was from a man who hardly knows » Daisy {rom
a Dandelion to a professed Botanist. . . .
Teannot remember what papers haye given me the ime
pression, but I have that, which you state to be the case,
firmly fixed on my mind, namely, the little chemical impor-
tance of the soil to its vegetation, What a strong fact it is,
* Sir J. D, Hooker's Antarotie Botany.
a”
as R. Brown once remarked to me, of certain plants being
calcareous ones here, which are not so under a more favour
able climate on the Continent, or the reverse, for I forget
which ; but you, no doub:, will know to what I refer. By-
the-way, there are some such cases in Herbert's paper in the
‘Horticultural Journal,'* Have you read it: it struck meas
extremely original, and bears dirretly on your present rex
searches.| To a nombotenidt the chalk has the most peculiar
aspect of any flora in England; why will vou not come bere
to make your observations? [¥e go to Southampton, if my
courage and stomach do not fail, for the Brit. Assoc. {Do
you not consider it your duty to be there?) And why cannot
you comme here afterward and wort? , . . -
Tux Moxoorarm ov Tar CimeirEpaa,
October 18.46 to October 1854.
[Writing to Sir J. D. Hooker in 1845, my father says: “T
hope this next summer to finish my South American Geology,
then to get out a little Zoology, and hurrah for my species
work, ..." ‘This passage serves to show that he had at this
time no intention of making an exhaustive study of the Cir-
tipedes. Indeed it would seem that his original intention
was, as I learn from Sir J. D. Hooker, merely to work out one
special problem. ‘This is quite in keeping with the following
passage in the Autobiography : “When on the coast of Chile,
T found a most curious form, which burrowed into the shells
of Concholepas, and which differed so much from all other
Cirripedes that I had to form a new sub-order for its sole
reception. . .. To understand the structure of my new Cit
ripede 1 had to examine and dissect many of the common
forms; and this gradually led me on to take up the whole
group." In later years be seems to have felt some doubt ms
to the value of these eight years of work,—for instance when
+ Joumal of the Horticultural Seeiety,’ 1846
+ Sir J.D Hooker was at this time attending to polymorphilsan, varie
bility, de.
CTREIPEDES, 35
he wrote in his Autobiography—" My work was of consider-
able use to me, when T had to discuss in the ‘Origin of Spee
cies,’ the principles of a natural classifieation. Nevertheless
I doubt whether the work was worth the consumption of so
nvuch time.” Yet 1 learn from Sir J, D, Hooker that he cer~
tainly recognised at the time its value to himself as system-
atic training. Sir Joseph writes to me: “ Your father recog-
nised three stages in his career as a biologist: the mere
collector at Cambridge; the collector and observer in the
Beagle, and for some years afterwards; and the trained natu-
rolist after, and only after the Cirripede work. ‘That he wan
a thinker all along is true enough, and there is a yast deal
in his writings previous to the Cirripedes that a trained natu
ralist could but emulate. . , . He oftem alluded to it as a
valued discipline, and added that even the ‘hateful’ work of
digging out synonyms, and of describing, not only improved
his methods but opened his eyes to the difficulties and mer-
its of the works of the dullest of cataloguers. One result
was that he would never allow a depreciatory remark to pass
unchallenged on the poorest class of scientific workers, pro-
vided that their work was honest, and good of its kind, I
have always regarded it as one of the finest traits of his
chardcter,—this generous appreciation of the bod-men of
science, and of their labours... and it was monographing
the Barnacles that brought it about.’
Professor Huxley allows me to quote his opinion as to the
value of the eight years given to the Cirripedes:—
“Ta my opinion your sagacious father never did a wiser
thing than when he devoted himself to the years of patient
toil which the Cirripede-book cost him.
1c the rest of us, he had no proper training in biologi-
cal science, and it has always struck me as a remarkable ine
stance of his scientific insight, that he saw the necessity of
giving himself such training, and of his courage, thit he did
not shirk the labour of obtaining it.
‘The great danger which besets all men of large specula«
tive faculty, is the temptation to deal with the accepted state-
316 LIFE AT DOWN. ASTAT. 33-45.
ments of facts in natural science, as if they were not only
correct, but exhaustive; as if they might be dealt with de»
ductively, in the same way as propositions in Euclid may be
dealt with. In reality, every such statement, however true it
may be, is true only relatively to the means of observation
and the point of view of those who have enunciated it. So.
far it may be depended upon, But whether it will bear every
speculative conclusion that may be logically deduced from it,
is quite another question.
“Your father was building « vast superstructure upon the
foundations furnished by the recognised facts of geological
and biological science, In Physical Geography, in Geology
proper, in Geographical Distribution, and in Palontology,
he had acquired an extensive practical training during the
voyage of the Beagle. He knew of his own knowledge the
way in which the raw materials of these branches of science
are acquired, and was therefore a most competent judge of
the speculative strain they would bear, That which he
needed, after his return to England, was a corresponding
acquaintance with Anatomy and Development, and their relax
tion to Taxonomy—and he acquired this by his Cirripede
work,
“Thus, in my apprehension, the value of the Cirripede
monograph lies not merely in the fact that it is a very admi-
rable piece of work, and constituted a great addition to posi-
tive knowledge, but still more in the circumstance that it was
@ piece of critical self-discipline, the effect of which mani-
fested itself in everything your father wrote afterwards, and
saved him from endless errors of detail.
“So far from such work being a loss of time, I believe
it would have been well worth his while, had it been practi-
cable, to have supplemented it by a special study of em-
bryology and physiology. His hands would have been greatly
strengthened thereby when he came to write out sundry
chapters of the ' Origin of Species,’ Bur of course in those
days it was almost impossible for him to find facilities for such
work,”
CIRRIPEDES. 317
No one can look at the two volumes on the recent Cieri-
pedes, of 399 and 684 pages respectively (not to speak of the
volumes on the fossil species), without being struck by the
immense amount of detailed work which they contain, The
forty plates, some of them with thirty figures, and the four-
teen pages of index in the two volumes together, give some
rough idea of the labour spent on the work.* ‘The state of
knowledge, as regards the Cirripedes, was most unsatisfactory
at the time that my father began to work at them, As an.
illustration of this fact, it may be mentioned that he had
‘even to re-organise the nomenclature of the group, of, as he
‘expressed it, he “ unwillingly found it indispensable to give
names to several valves, and to some few of the softer parts
‘of Cirripedes."{ It is interesting to learn from his diary the
amount of time which he gave to different genera. Thus
the genus Chthamalus, the description of which occupies
twenty-two pages, occupied him for thirty-six days; Coro-
mula took nineteen days, and is described in twenty-seven
pages. Writing to Fitz-Roy, he speaks of being “for the
last half-month daily hard at work in dissecting a little ani-
mal about the size of a pin's head, from the Chonos archi-
pelago, and I could spend another month, and daily see more
beautiful structure,”
‘Though he became excessively weary of the work before
the end of the eight years, he had much keen enjoyment in
the course of it. ‘Thus he wrote to Sir J. D. Hooker (1847 2):
— “As you say, there is an extraordinary pleasure in pure
‘observation ; not but what I suspect the pleasure in this case
is rather derived from comparisons forming in one’s mind
with allied structures, After having been s0 long employed
in writing my old geological observations, it is delightful to
se one’s eyes and fingers again.” It was, in fact, a return to
* The reader unacquainted with Zoology will fine some account of the
more interesting results in Mr, Romanes* article on Charles Darwin"
(Nature ” Series, 1882),
4 Vol. ip. 3
318 LIFE AT DOWN. -ETAT. 35-45.
the work which occupied so much of his time when at sea
during his voyage. His zoological notes of that period give
an impression of vigorous work, hampered by ignorance and
want of appliances; and his untiring industry in the dissee=
vion of marine animals, especially of Crustacea, must have
been of value to him as training for his je work.
Most of his work was done with the simple dissecting micro
scope—but it was the need which he found for higher powers
that induced him, in #846, to buy acompound microscope,
He wrote to Hooker:—“When I was drawing with I, T
was so delighted with the appearance of the abjecta, especially
with their perspective, as seen through the weak powers of a
good compound microscope, that I am going to order one;
indeed, I often have structures in which the #y is not power
enough.”
During part of the time covered by the present chapter,
my father suffered perhaps more from ill-health than at any
other time of his life. He felt severely the depressing influ-
ence of these long years of illness ; thus as early as 1840 he
wrote to Fox: “1am grown a dull, old, spiritless dog to what
Tused to be. One gets stupider as one grows older 1 think.”
It is not wonderful that he should so have written, it is rather
to be wondered at that his spirit withstood so great and
constant a strain. He wrote to Sir J. D. Hooker in 1845:
“You are very kind in your enquiries about my health; I
have nothing to say about it, being always much the same,
some days better and some worse. I believe 1 have not
had one whole day, or rather night, without my stomach
having been greatly disordered, during the last three years,
and most days great prostration Bf strength : thank you for
your kindness; many of my friends, I believe, think me a
hypochendriac."
Again, in 1849, he notes in his diary:—" January 1st to
March soth—Health very bad, with much sickness and fail-
urevof power. Worked.on all well days” This was written
just before his first visit to Dr. Gully's Water-Cure Establish.
ment at Malvern, In April of the same year he wrote:—"I
1546.) BRITISH ASSOCIATION. 319
believe Iam going on very well, but Iam rather weary of my
present inactive life, and the water-cure has the most extra-
ordinary effect in producing indolence and stagnation of
mind: till experiencing it, 1 could not have believed it possi-
ble. I now increase in weight, have escaped sickness for
thirty days,” He returned in June, after sixteen weeks’ abe
fence, much improved in health, and, as already described (p,
108), continued the water-cure at home for some time.]
C, Darwin to J. D, Hooker,
Down [October, 1846).
My prar Hoorer—tI haye not heard from Sullivan *
lately ; when he last wrote he named from 8th to roth as the
most likely time. Immediately that I hear, I will fly you a
line, for the chance af your being able to come, f forget
whether you know him, but I suppose so; he is a real good
fellow. Anyhow, if you do not come then, I am very glad
that you propose coming soon after. . .
Tam going to begin some papers on the lower marine
animals, which will last me some months, perhaps a year, and
then T shall begin looking over my ten-year-long accumue
Jation of notes on species and varieties, which, with write
ing, 1 dare say will take me five years, and then, when pub-
lished, 1 dare say I shall stand infinitely low in the opinion
of all sound Naturalists—so this is my prospect for the fue
ture,
Are you a good hand at inventing names, 1 have a quite
new and carious genus of Barnacle, which I want to name,
and how to invent a name completely puzales me,
By the way, I have told you nothing about Southampton,
We enjoyed (wife and myself) our week beyond measure ;
the papers were all dull, but I met so many friends and
made 0 many new acquaintances (especially some of the
Irish Naturalists), and took so many pleasant excursions. 1
* Admiral Sir B. J, Sulivon, formerly sn officer of the Beagle,
320 ‘LIFE AT DOWN. TAT. 3945.
wish you had been there, On Sunday we had so pleasant am
excursion to Winchester with Falconer," Colonel Sabine, and
Dr. Robinson,} and others, I never enjoyed a day more in
my life. I missed having a look at H. Watson.* I suppese
you heard that he met Forbes and told him he had a severe
article in the Press, 1 understood that Forbes explained to
him that he had no cause to complain, but as the article was
printed, he would not withdraw it, but offered it to Forbes
for him to append notes to i, which, Forbes naturaly de
clined. ,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Down, April 7th [1847 7].
My prar Hooxrr,—t should have written before now,
had T not been almost continually unwell, and at present I am
suffering from four boils and swellings, one of which hardly
allows me the.use of my right arm, and has stopped all my
work, and damped all my spirits. I was much disappointed
at missing my trip to Kew,and the more so, as 1 had forgotten
you would be away all this month ; but I had no eboiee, and
was in bed nearly all Friday and Saturday. 1 congratulate
* Hugh Falconer, born 109, died 1865. Chiefly known as a paleontols
‘ogist, although employed ax a botanist daring his whole career mm India,
where he way also a medical offer in I E. 1. C. Service ; he was supers
intendent of the Company’s garden, first at Saharunpore, aud then at Cale
evita, He wis one of the first botznieal explorers of Kashmir. Faleoner’s
discoveries of Miocene mammalian remains in the Sewalik Hills, were, at
the time, perhaps the greatest “finds” which had beea made. His book
‘on the subject, ‘Fauna Antiqua Sivalensis,’ remained unfinished at the
‘ume of bis death.
+ The late Sir Edward Sabine, formerly President of the Rays! Society,
and author of « long series of memoirs on Terrestrial Magnetism,
$ The late Dr. Thomas Romney Robinson, of the Armagh Observes
‘ory.
* The late Hewest Cottrell Watson, author of the ‘Cybele Britannica,”
‘one of & most valuable series of works on the topography and geographical
distribution of the plaats of the British Islands.
1845-] THE POCKET ALMANACK. 321
you over your improved prospects about India,® but at the
same time must sincerely groan over it. 1 shall feel quite lost
without you to discuss many points with, and to point out
(ill-Juck to you) difficulties and objections to my species hy-
potheses, It will be a horrid shame if money stops your expe-
dition ; but Government will surely help you to some extent.
... Your present trip, with your new views, amongst the
coal-plants, will be very interesting. If you have spare time,
ut not without, 1 should enjoy having some news of your
progress. Your present trip will work well in, if you go to
any of the coal districts in India. Would this not be a good
object to parade before Government; the utilitarian souls
would comprehend this. By the way, Iwill get some work
out of you, about the damestic races of animals in India. . . .
C. Darwin to L, Jenyns (Blomefield).
Down [1847].
Draw Jexvxs—I am very much obliged for the capital
little Almanack ; } it so happened that I was wishing for one
to keep in my portfolio. I had never seen this kind before,
and shall certainly get one for the future. 1 think it is very
amusing to” have a list before one’s eyes of the order of aps
* Sir J. Hooker left England on November tr, 1847, for his Himae
layan and Tibetan journey. The expedition wai
(grant from the Treasury, and thus assumes the chi
maimion,
+“ This letier relates to a small Almanack first published in 1843,
under the name of ‘The Naturalists’ Pocket Almanack, by Mr. Van
‘Voorst, and which I edited for him. 11 was intended especially for those
‘who interest themselves in the periodic phenomena of animals and plants,
‘of which a select list was given under each month of the year,
“The Pocket Almanack contained, moreover, miscellaneous informa
tion relating to Zoology and Rotany ; t0 Natural History and other scien
tific societies; to public Museums and Gardens, in addition to the ordi«
nary celestiat phenomena found in most other Almanacks, It continued
10 be issued till 1847, after which year the publication was abandoned.”
‘From a letter from Rev. L, Blomefield to ¥. Darwin.
‘LIFE AT DOWN. TAT. seas
pearance of the plants and animals around one; it gives a
fresh interest to cach fine day. There is one point 1 should.
like to sce a little noproved, viz, the correction for the clock
at shorter intervals. Most people, I suspect, who like myself
have dials, will wish to be more precise than with a margi
‘of three minutes, T slways buy a shilling slmanack for t
sole end. By the way, yours, #. €, Van Voorst’s Almanack, is
very dear; it ought, at least, to be advertised post-free for
the shilling. Do you not think a table (not rules) of conver>
sion of French into English measures, and perhaps weights,
would be exceedingly useful ; also centigrade into Fahren-
heit,—magnifying powers according to focal distances?—in
fact you might make it the most useful publication of the age.
1 know what 1 should like best of all, namely, current meteo-
rological remarks for each month, with statement of average
course of winds and prediction of weather, in accordance
with movements of barometer, People, I think, are always
amused at knowing the extremes and means of temperature
for corresponding times in other years.
I hope you will goon with it another year. With many
thanks, my dear Jenyns,
Yours very truly,
CHARLES DARWIN.
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
Down, Sanday [April 18h, 1847},
My prar Hooxer,—t return with many thanks Watson's
letter, which have had copied, It is a capital one, and 1 amt
extremely obliged to you for obtaining me such valuable
information, Surely he is rather in a hurry when he sys
crmediate varieties mnust almost be accessarily rare, others
wise they would be taken as the types of the species; for he
\avetlooks numerical frequency as an element. Surely if A,
B, C were three varieties, and if A were a good deal the com-
monest (therefore, also, first known), it would be taken as the
type, without regarding whether B was quite intermediate of
‘not, or whether it was rare of not, What capital essays W.
HC, WATSON, 323
but T suppose he has written a good deal in
the ' Phytologist.’ You ought to encourage him to publish
on variation ; it isa shame that such facts as those in his let»
ter should remain unpublished. 1 must get you to introduce
me to him; would he be a good and sociable man for Drop-
more ?* though if he comes, Forbes must not (and I think
you talked of inviting Forbes), or we shall have a glorious bat-
tle. I should like to see sometime the war correspondence,
Have you the‘ Phytologist," and could you sometime spare it?
I would go through it quickly. . . . L have read your last five
numbers,f and as usual have been much interested in several
points, especially with your discussions on the beech and
potato. I see you have introduced several sentences against
us Transmutationists. I have also been looking through the
latter volumes of the ‘ Annals of Natural History,’ and have
read two such soulless, pompous papers of —, quite worthy
of the author . . . . The contrast of the papers in the Annals
with those in the Auna/es is rather humiliating; so many
papers in the former, with short descriptions of species, with-
out one word on their affinities, internal structure, range or
habits. Tam now reading ——, and I have picked out some
things which have interested me; but he strikes me as rather
dullish, and with all his Materia Medica smells of the doctor's
shop. I shall ever hate the name of the Materia Medica,
since hearing Duncan's lectures at eight o'clock on a winter's
morning—a whole, cold, breakfnstless hour an the properties
of rhubarb !
I hope your journey will be very prosperous. Believe me,
my dear Hooker,
Ever yours,
, Darwrs,
P.S.—I think I have only made one new acquaintance
of late, that is, R. Chambers; and I have just received a
* A inuch enjoyed expedition made from Oxford—when the British
Association met there in 1847
+ OF the Botany of Nlooker’s * Antaretic Voyage.’
324 LIFE AT DOWN, ATAT. 99-45- fray
presentation copy of the sixth edition of the ‘ Vestiges,’ Some-
how I now feel perfectly convinced he is the author. He is
in France, and has written to me thence.
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down {15477}
«++ Tam delighted to hear that Brongoiart thought
Sigillaria aquatic, and that Binney considers coal a sort of
submarine peat. I would bet 5 to r that in twenty years this
will be generally admitted; * and 1 do not care for whatever
the botanical difficulties or impossibilitics may be. If I could
but persuade myself that Sigillaria and Co. had a good range
of depth, & ould live from 5 to 100 fathoms under water,
all difficulties of nearly all kinds would be removed (for the
simple fact of muddy ordinary shallow sea implies proximity
of land), [N.B—I am chuckling to think how you are
snecring all this time.] It is not much of a difficulty, there not
being shells with the coal, considering how unfavourable deep
mud is for most Mollusea, and that shells would probably
decay from the humic acid, as seems to take place in peat
and in the d/act moulds (as Lyell tells me) of the Mississippi.
So coal question settled—Q. E. D. Sneer away !
Many thanks for your welcome note from Cambridge, and
Tam glad you like my alma mater, which 1 despise heartily
asa place of education, but love from many most pleasant
recollections,
‘Thanks for your offer of the ‘Phytologist;' I shall be
very much obliged for it, for 1 do not suppose I should be
able to borrow it from any other quarter. I will not be set
up too much by your praise, but 1 do not believe T ever lost
a book or forgot to return it during a Jong lapse of time,
Your ‘Webb* is well wrapped up, and with your name in
large letters outsice,
‘My new microscope is come home (a “splendid play-
* An unfullited prophecy.
1847.] COAL. 325
thing,” as old R. Brown called it), and I am delighted with
it; it really is a splendid plaything, T have been in London
for three days, and saw many of our friends, 1 was ex-
tremely sorry to hear a not very good account of Sir Willian,
Farewell, my dear Hooker, and be a good boy, and make
Sigillaria a submarine sea-weed,
Ever yours,
C. Darwis,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Down [May 6th, 1847).
My peax Hooxer,—You haye made a savage onslaught,
and I must try to defend myself, But, first, let me say that
I never write to you except for my own good pleasure ; now
T fear that you answer me when busy and without inclination
(and I am sure T should have none if T was as busy as you).
Pray do not do so, and if I thought my writing entailed an
answer from you #ofens solens, it would destroy all my pleas
ure in writing. Firstly, I did not consider my letter as
reasoning, or even as speculation, but simply as mental rioting;
and as I was sending Binney’s paper, I poured out to you the
result of reading it. Secondly, you are right, indeed, in
thinking me mad, if you suppose that I would class any ferns
ais marine plants; but surely there is a wide distinction be-
tween the plants found upright in the coal-beds and those
not upright, and which might have been drifted. Is it not
possible that the same circumstances which have preserved
the vegetation fa sit, should have preserved drifted plants?
T know Calamites is found upright ; but I fancied its affini
ties were very obscure, like Sigillaria, As for Lepidoden-
dron, 1 forgot its existence, as happens when one goes riot,
and now know neither what it is,or whether upright. If
these plants, ie. Calamites and Lepidodendron, have tery
dear relations to terrestrial vegetables, like the ferns have,
and are found upright i situ, of course 1 must give up the
ghost, But surely Sigillaria is the main upright plant, and
n its obscure affinities U have heard you enlarge,
326 ‘LIPE AT DOWN. ETAT. s3-45.
‘Thirdly, it never entered my head to undervalue botanical —
relatively to zoological evidence; except in so far as T thought
it was admitted that the vegetative structure seldom yix
any evidence of affinity nearer than that of families, and not
always so much. And is it not in plants, as certainly it is in
animals, dangerous to judge of habits without very near
affinity, Could @ Botanist tell from structure alone that the
Mangrove family, almost or quite alone in Dicotyledons,
could live in the sea, and the Zostera family almost alone
among the Monocotyledons? fs it a safe argument, that be-
cause alge are almost the only, ot the only submerged sea
plants, that formerly other groups had not members with
such habits? With animals such an argument would sot be
‘conclusive, as I could illustrate by many examples; but I am
forgetting myself ; I want only to some degree to defend my
self, and not burn my fingers by attacking you. The foundae
tion of my letter, and what is my deliberate opinion, though I
dare say you will think it absurd, is that I would rather trust,
cacteris paribus, pure geological evidence than either zoological
or botanical evidence. Ido not say that I would sooner trust
poor geological evidence than gas organi
of pure geological reasoning is simpler (connisting chiefly of
the action of water on the crust of the earth, and its ap and
down movements) than a basis drawn from the difficult sabe
Ject of affinities and of structure in relatio to habits. 1 can
hardly analyze the facts on which I fe come to this eon-
clusion ; but I can illustrate it, Pallas’s account would Sead
Any one to suppose that the Siberian strata, with the frozen
carcasses, had been quickly deposited, and hence that the
embedded animals had lived in the neighbourhood ; but our
zoological knowledge of thirty years ago led every one falsely
to reject this conclusion,
‘Tell me that an upright fern fe site occurs with Sigiflaria
and Stigmaris, or that the affinities of Calemites and Lepido=
dendron (supposing that they are found din sifw wich Sigitiaria)
ate so clear, that they could not have been marine, like, but
in a greater degree, than the mangrove and sea-wrack, and £
#84.) COAL, 327
will humbly apologise to you and all Botanists for haying tet
my mind run riot on a subject on which aysuredly I know
nothing. But till I bear this, { shall keep privately to my
own opinion with the same pertinacity and, as you will think,
with the same philosophical spirit with which Koenig main-
tains that Cheirotherium-footsteps are fuci.
Whether this letter will sink me still lower in your opinion,
of put mea little right, L know aot, but hope the latter, Any-
how, I have revenged myself with boring you with a very long
epistle. Farewell, and be forgiving. Ever yours,
C, Darwin,
P,S.—When will you return to Kew? I have forgotten
one main object of my letter, to thank you much for your
olfer of the ‘Hort. Journal,’ but I have ordered the two
numbers,
[The two following extracts [1847] give the continuation
and conclusion of the coal battle
“By the way, as submarine coal made you so wrath, I
thought I would experimentise on Falconer and Bunbury *
together, and it made [them] even more savage ; “such infer-
nal nonsense ought to be thrashed out of me.’ Bunbury was
more polite and contemptuous. So I now know how to stir
up and show off any Botanist. 1 wonder whether Zoologists
and Geologists have got their tender points; 1 wish I could
find out.”
“ {cannot resist thanking you for your most kind note.
Pray do not think that I was annoyed by your letter: T per=
ceived that you had been thinking with animation, and ae-
cordingly expressed yourself strongly, and so 1 understood it,
Forfend me from a man who weighs every expression with
Scotch prudence, I heartily wish you all success in your
noble problem, and I shall be very curious to have some talk:
with you and hear your ultimatum."
# The late Sir C. Bunbury, well knows as a palicobotaniet
328 LIFE AT DOWN. AETAT. 33-45.
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker*
Down (October, 1847].
T congratulate you heartily on your arrangements being
completed, with some prospect for the future. It will be a
noble voyage and journey, but I wish it was aver, { shall miss
you selfishly and all ways to a dreadful extent... 1 am in
great perplexity how we are to mect . . . 1 can well under
stand how dreadfully busy you must be. If you cannot come
here, you must let me come to you for a night; for I must
have one more chat and one more quarrel with you over the
coal.
By the way, I endeavoured to stir up Lyell (who has been
staying here some days with me) to theorise on the coal: his
oolitic upright Equisetums are dreadful for my submarine
flora. I should die much easier if some one would solve me
the coal question. I sometimes think it could not have been
formed at all. Old Sir Asthony Carlisle once said to me
gravely, that he supposed Megatherium and such cattle were
just sent down from heaven to see whether the earth would
‘support them; and [ suppose the coal was rained down to
puzzle mortals, You must work the coal well in India, i
Ever yours,
C. Danwin,
©, Darwin to J, D, Hooker.
[November 6th, 1847.)
My pear Hooxen,—I have just received your note with
sincere grief: there is no help for it. I shall always look at
your intention of coming here, under such eireumstances, a8
the greatest proof of friendship I ever received from mortal
man. My conscience would have upbraided me in not hays
ing come to you on Thursday, but, as it turned out, T could
not, for I was quite unable to leave Shrewsbury before that
* Parts of two letters,
wind GLEN ROY. 329
day, and T reached home only last night, much knocked up.
Without I hear to-morrow (which is hardly powible), and if
1am feeling pretty well, 1 will dave over to Kew on Monday
morning, just to say-farewell. I will stay only an hour. . . .
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
(November, 1847.)
My prax Hooxer,—I am very unwell, and incapable of
doing anything, Ido hope I have not ineonvenienced you.
1 was so unwell all yesterday, that I was rejoicing you were
not here; for it would have been a bitter mortification to me
to have had you here and not enjoyed your last day. I
thall not now see you. Farewell, and God bless you.
Your affectionate friend,
C, Darwix,
I will write to you in India.
{In 1847 appeared a paper by Mr. D. Milne," in which
my father’s Glen Roy work is c d, and which is referred
to in the following characteristic extract from a letter to Sir
J. Hooker :] “I have been bad enough for these few last days,
having had to think and write too much about Glen Roy.
Mr. Milne having attacked my theory, which made me horri«
bly sick,” T-have not been able to find any published reply
to Mr. Milne, so that I imagine the “writing mentioned was
confined to letters. Mr. Mitne’s paper was not destructive
to the Glen Roy paper, and this my father recognises in the
following extract from a letter to Lyell (Mareh, 1847). ‘The
reference to Chambers is explained by the fact that he ac-
companied Mr. Milne in his visit to Glen Roy. “1 got R.
Chambers to give me a sketch of Milne’s Glen Roy views,
and I have re-read my paper, and am, now that T have heard
what is to be said, not even staggered, It is provoking and
humiliating to find that Chambers not only had not read
‘Now Mr Milne Home. The eway was published in Transactions
of the Edinburgh Royal Society, vol. xvi.
2
330 LIFE AT DOWN, TAT, a5-45. [rBey.
with any care my paper on this subject, or even looked at tht
coloured map, so that the new shelf described by me had not
been searched for, and my arguments and facts of detail not
in the least attended to, 1 entirely gave up the ghost, and
was quite chicken-hearted at the Geological Society, till. you
reassured and reminded me of the main facts in the whole
case.”
‘The two following letters to Lyell, though of later date
(June, 1848), bear on the same subjec
“Twas at the evening meeting [of the Gcological Society),
but did not get within hail of you. What a fool (though I
must sty a very amusing one) —— did make of himself,
Your speech was refreshing after it, and was well characterized
by Fox (my cousin) in three words—' What a contrast!” ‘That
struck me as a capital speculation about the Wealden Conti«
nent going down, I did not hear what you settled at the
Council; Twas quite wearied out and bewildered, I find Smith,
of Jordan Hill, bas @ much worse opinion of R. Chambers’
book than even I have. Chambers has piqued mea little;
he says I ‘propound ' and ‘profess my belief’ that Glen Roy
is marine, and that the idea was accepted because the 'mo-
bility of the Jand was the ascendant idea of the day.’ He
adds some very faint wiper lines in Glen Spean (seen, by the
way, by Agassiz), and has shown that Milne and Kemp are
right in there being horizontal aqueous markings (nef at eo=
incident levels with those of Glen Roy) in other pars of
Scotland at great heights, and he adds several other cases.
‘This is the whote of hhis addition to the dats, He not only
takes my line of argument from the buttresses and terraces
below the lower shelf and some other arguments (without
acknowledgment), but be sneers at all his predecessors not
having perceived the importance of the short portions of lines
intermediate between the chief ones in Glen Roy; whereas
#* Ancient Sex Marging, 1848! The words quoted tyy my facher should
be " the mobility of the land was an ancendant idea.”
1B) ROKERT CHAMBERS, 33t
Teommence the description of them with saying, that ‘per
ceiving their importance, L examined them with scrupulous
care,’ and expariate at considerable length on them, T have
indirectly told him I do not think he has quite claims to
consider that he alone (which he pretty directly asserts) has
solved the problem of Glen Roy, With respect to the tere
‘ident in height all round Scotland
‘and England, | am inclined to believe he shows some little
probability of there being some leading ones coincident, but
much more exact evidence is required, Would you believe
it credible? he advances a3 a probable solution to account
for the rise of Great Britain that in some great ocean one-
twentieth of the bottom of the whole aqueous surface of the
globe has sunk in (be does not say where he puts it) for «
thickness of half a mile, and this he has calculated would
make an apparent rise of 130 feet.””
© Darwin ts C. Lyell,
Down [June, 1848].
My pear Lyett,—Out of justice to Chambers I must
trouble you with one line to say, as far as I am_personally
concerned in Glen Roy, he has made the amende honorable,
and pleads guilty through inadvertency of taking my two
Fines of arguments and facts without acknowledgment. He
concluded by saying he “caine to the same point by an ine
dependent course of inquiry, which in a small degree excuses
this inadvertency.” His letter altogether shows a very good
disposition, and says he is “much gratified with the measured
approbation which you bestow, &e." 1 am heartily glad T
was able to say in truth that I thought he had done good
service in calling more attention to the subject of the ter
faces, He protests it is unfair to call the sinking of the sea
his theory, for that he with care always speaks of mere change
of level, and this is quite true; but the one section in which
he shows how he conceives the sea might sink is so aston-
ishing, that I believe it will with others, as with me, more than
332 LIFE AT DOWN. ETAT. 3345.
counterbalance his previous caution. T hope that you may
think better of the book than I do.
Yours most truly,
C, Darwin,
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
October 6th, 1848.
. Thave lately been trying to get up an agitation (but
Tshall not succeed, and indeed doubt whether I have time
and strength to go on with it), against the practice of Natu-
ralists appending for perpetuity the name of the first describer
to species, T look at this a3 a direct pretium to hasty work,
to naming instead of deseréhing, A species ought to have a
name so well known that the addition of the author's name
would be superfluous, and a [piece] of empty vanity." At
present, it would not do to give mere specific names; but I
think Zoologists might open the road to the omission, by
referring to good systematic writers instead of to first de-
scribers. Botany, I fancy, has not suffered so much as
Zana st from mere naming » the characters, fortenately, are
* His contempt for the selfaregarding spine in a naturalist & ilustrated
byan ancofote, for which T am indebted to Rey. L. Blomefield, After
speaking of my father's love of Entomology at Cambridge, Mr. Momefield
‘continues —" He occadonally came over from Catubringe to my Viearage
on Swalfhan Hulbeuk, and we went out together to collect insects in the
woods at Bottishan Hall, close at hand, or made fonger excursions in the
Fens. On ove occasion he captured In a lange bag net, with which he used
‘vigorously to «weep the weeds and tong geass, a rare coleopterous Insect,
cone of the Lépruridir, whlch I myself had never taken in Cambridgeshire,
He was pleased with his capture, and of course carried it home in triumph.
Some year afterwards, the voyage of the Magi haxing heen made in the
im, talking over old cloves with him, I reverted to this circumstance,
and asked if he remembered it. ‘Ob yes," (he said,) "I remember it well |
And Twas selfish enough to keep the specimen, when you were collecting:
aterials for « Fauna of Cambridgeshire, and for = local museum in the
Philosophical Society.” He fallowes this up with some remarks on the pet=
of collectors, who almet at nothing beyond filling their cabinets
ih vare things"
Pew
1849) NOMENCLATURE, 333
more obseure. Have you ever thought on this point? Why
should Naturalists append their own names to new species,
when Mineralogists and Chemists do not do so to new sub=
stances? When you write to Falconer pray remember me
affectionately to him. I grieve most sincerely to hear that
he has been ill. My dear Hooker, God bless you, and fare
you well. Your sincere friend,
©, Darwin,
C. Darwin to Hugh Strickland.”
‘Down, Jan. agth [1549}
. «« « What a labour you have undertaken ; 1 do Aonowr
your devoted zeal in the good cause of Natural Science, Do
you happen to have a spare copy of the Nomenclature rules
published in the ‘British Association Transactions?" if you
* Hugh Edwin Strickisnd, M.A... F.R.S, was born and of March,
1811, and educaters at Rugby, under Arnold, andl at Oriel College, Oxford.
In 185§ and 1836 he travelled through Europe to the Levant with W. J.
Hamilton, the geologist, wintering in Asia Minor. In 1841 he brought
the subject of Natural History Nomenclature before the British Associne
tion, and prepared the Goce of Rules for Zoological Nomenctature, now
Known by his name—the principles of which are very generally adopted.
In 1843 he was one of the founders (if mot the original projector) of the
Ray Society. tn 1845 he married the second daughter of Sir William
Jardine, Bart. Tn 1850 he was appointed, in consequence of Buckland's
ilinem, Deputy Reader in Geology at Oxford. His promising career was
soddenty cut short on September 14, 1853, when, while geologiring in a
railway cutting between Retfon! und Gainsborough, he was run over by
train and instantly killed. A memoir of him and 2 reprint of hiv principal
contributions to journals was published by Sir William Janding in a858 ;
‘but he was also the author of * The Dodo and its Kindred’ (1848) ; * Hibli
‘ogtaphia Zoologie’ (the latter in conjunction with Louis Agassle, and
Sewed by the Ray Society) ; * Ornithological Synonyms’ (one volume only
published, and that posthumously}, A eatalogue of his ornithological col-
lection, given by his widow to the University of Cambridge, was compiled
by Mr. Salvin, and published in r88a. (Tam indebted to Prof. Newton
for the above note.)
334
3
have, and would give it to me, I should be truly obliged, for T
gredge buying the volume for it. Ihave found the rales very
useful, it is quite a comfort to have something to rest on in
the turbulent ocean of nomenclature (and am accordingly
sratefal to you), though T find it very dificult to obey always.
Here is a case (and I think it should have been noticed in the
rules), Coronula, Cineras and Otion, are names adopted by
Cuvier, Lamarck, Owen, and almost every well-known writer,
but I find that all three names were an!
now I believe if I were to follow the strict rule of priority
more harm would be done than good, and more especially as
I feel sure that the newly fished-up names would not be
adopted. I have almost made up my mind to reject the tule
of priority in this case ; would you grudge the trouble to send
me your opinion? Ihave been led of late to reflect much on
the subject of naming, and 1 have come to a fixed opinion
that the plan of the first deseriber's name, being appended
for perpetuity to a species, had been the greatest curse to
Natural History. Some months since, I wrote ont the en«
closed badly drawn-up paper, thinking that perhaps I would
agitate the subject ; but the fit has passed, and 1 do not sup-
pose I ever shall ; I send it you for the cAuace of your caring
to see my notions, I have been surprised to find in con-
versation that several naturalist were of nearly my way of
I feel sure as Jong as species-mangers have their
vanity tickled by seeing their own names appended to a
species, because they miserably described it in two or three
lines, we shall have the same ewsf amount of bad work as at
present, and which is enough to dishearten any man who is
willing to work out any branch with care and time, Tf find
every genus of Cirripedia has half-adozen names, and not
one eareful description of any one species in any one genus,
I do not believe that this would have been the case if each
man knew that the memory of his own name depended on bis
doing his work well, and not upon merely appending a name
with a few wretched lines indicating only 2 few prominent
external characters. But 1 will not weary you with any
2840] NOMENCLATURE. 333
longer tirade, Read my paper or of, just as you like, and
return it whenever you please.
Yours most sincerely,
C. Darwin,
Hugh Strickland te C. Darwin,
‘The Lodge, Tewkesbury, Jan. 31st. 1849.
+ «+ » Lhave next to notice your second objection—that
retaining the name of the first describer in perpefuum along
with that of the species, is a premium on hasty and careless
work, This is quite a different question fram that of the law
of priority itself, and it never occurred to me before, though it
seems highly probable that the general recognition of that law
may produce such a result, We must try to conteract this
evil in some other way.
The object of appending the name of a man to the name
of a species is not to gratify the vanity of the man, but to in.
dicate more precisely the species, Sometimes two men will,
by accident, give the same name (independently) to two spe-
cies of the same genus. More frequently a later author will
misapply the specific name of an older one, Thus the Zelix
putris of Montagn is not A. putrfe of Linnaeus, though Mons
tague supposed it to be so. In such a case we cannot define
the species by Helix putris alone, but must append the name
‘of the author whom we quote, But when a species has never
borne but one name (as Corvus fragélegus), and no other spe=
cies of Corvus has borne the same name, it is, of course, un-
necessary to add the author's name. Yet even here I like
the form Gorrus frugitegus, Liam, 28 it reminds us that this
one of the old species, long knawn, and to be found in ie
“Systema Natura,’ &c. I feur, therefore, that (at least until
our nomenclature ix more definitely settled) it will be impos
sible to indicate species with scientific accuracy, without add-
ing the name of their first author. You may, indeed, do it as
you propose, by saying im Lam. Am. Zmvert., x, but then this
Would be incompatible with the law of priority, for where
336 APE AT DOWN. TAT. 53-45.
Lamarck has violated that law, one cannot adopt
It is, nevertheless, highly conducive to accurate indication to
append to the (oldest) specific name ome good reference to a
standard work, especiatly to a figuer, with an accompanying
synonym if necessary. ‘This method may be cumbrous, but
cumbrousness is a far less evil than uncertainty.
It, moreover, seems hardly possible to carry out the
Priority principle, without the historical aid afforded by ap-
pending the author's name to the specific one. If I, a priority
man, called a species C. D., it implies that C. D. is the oldest
name that I know of; but in order that you and others may
judge of the propricty of that name, you must ascertain when,
and by whom, the name was first coined. Now, if to the
specific name C. D., 1 append the name A. B., of its first
describer, I at once furnish you with the clue to the dates
when, and the book in which, this description was given, and
Tthus assist you in determining whether C. D. be really the
oldest, and therefore the correct, designation.
I do, however, admit that the priority principle (excelent
as it is) has a tendency, when the author's name is added, to
encourage vanity and slovenly work. I think, however, that
much might be done to discourage those obscure and unsatis-
factory definitions of which you so justly complain, by mriting
down the practice, Let the better disposed naturalists com=
bine to make a formal protest against all vague, loose, and.
inadequate definitions of (supposed) new species, Let a
committee (say of the British Association) be appointed to
prepare a sort of Class Lis of the various moder works in
which new species are described, arranged in order of merit.
‘The lowest class would contain the worst examples of the
kind, and their authors would thus be exposed to the ebloquy
which they deserve, and be gibbeted #e tevrerem for the edi
cation of those who may come after.
T have thus candidly stated my views (I hope intelligibly)
of what seems best to be done in the present transitional and
dangerous state of systematic zoology. Innumerable labour«
ers, many of them crotchety and half-educated, are rushing
name,
hag] NOMENCLATURE. 337
into the field, and it depends, I think, on the present genera-
tion whether the science is to descend to posterity a chaotic
mass, or possessed of some traces of law and organisation, If
we could only get a congress of deputies from the chief scien
tile bodies of Europe and America, something might be done,
but, as the case stands, I confess I do not clearly see my way,
beyond humbly endeavouring to reform Naaber One,
Yours ever,
+H. E. STRICKLAND,
©. Darwin to Hugh Strickland,
Down, Sunday [Feb. th, 1849}.
My DEAR STRICKLAND,—I am, in truth, grnedly obliged to
you for your long, most interesting, and clear letter, and the
Report. I will consider your arguments, which are of the
greatest weight, but I confess T cannot yet bring myself to
reject very well-known names, not in one country, but over the
world, for obscure ones;—simply on the ground that I do not
believe I should be followed. Pray believe that I should
break the law of priority only in rare cases; will you read the
enclosed (and return it), and tell me whether it does not
stagger you? (N.B. I promise that I will not give you any
more trouble.) I want simple answers, and not for you to
waste your time in reasons; 1 am curious for your answer in
regard to Balanus. I put the case of Otion, &c,, to W.
Thompson, who is fierce for the law of priority, and he gave
it up in such well-known names, T am ina perfect maze of
douht-on nomenclature. In not one large genus af Cirripedia
has any one species been correctly defined ; it is pure guess-
work (being guided by range and commonness and habits) to
recognise any species: thus I can make out, from plates or
descriptions, hardly any of the British sessile cirtipedes.
cannot bear to give new names to all the species, and yet I
shall perhaps do wrong to attach old names by little better
than guess; 1 cannot at present tell the least which of two
species all writers have meant by the common Aaatifera
338° LIFE AT DOWN. ATAT. 39-45. Lo.
fects ; T have, therefore, given that name to the one which is
rather the commonest. Literally, not one species is properly
defined ; not one naturalist has ever taken the trouble to open
the shell of any species to describe it scientifically, and yet all
the genera have half-a-dozen synonyms, Por argument's sake,
suppose I do my work thoroughly well, any one who happens
to have the original specimens named, I will say by Chenu,
who has figured and named hundreds of species, will be able
to upset all my names acoarding to the law of priority (for he
may maintain his descriptions are sufficient), do you think it
advantageous to science that this should be done: 1 think
not, and that convenience and high merit (here put as mere
argument) had better come into some play, The subject is
heart-breaking.
1 hope you will occasionally turn in your mind my argu-
ment of the evil done by the “mihi” attached to specific
names; I ean most clearly see the exeesstve evil it has caused 5
in mineralogy I have myself found there is no rage to merely
name; a person does not take up the subject without he in-
tends to work it out, as he knows that his ewfy claim to merit
rests on his work being ably done, and has no relation what-
ever to naming, U give up one point, and grant that reference
to first describer’s name should be given in all systematic
works, but I think something would be gained if a reference
was given without the author's name being actually appended
as part of the binomial name, and I think, except in sys-
tematic works, a reference, such as 1 propose, would damp
vanity moch, I think a very wrong spirit runs through all
Natural History, as if some merit was due to a man for merely
naming and defining a species; I think scarcely any, ar nome,
is due; if he works out swawey and anatomically any one
species, or systematically * whole group, credit is doe, but I
must think the mere defining a species is nothing, and that
no fyjustice is done him if it be overlooked, though a great
inconvenience to Natural History is thus caused. I do not
think more credit is due to a man for defining a species, than
fo a carpenter for making a box. But J am footish and rabid
2840) NOMENCLATURE, 339
against species-mongers, or rather against their vanity ; it is
useful and necessary work which must be done ; but they act
‘as if they had actually made the species, and it was their own
property.
I use Agassiz’s nomenclator ; at least two-thirds of the
dates in the Cirripedia are grossly wrong,
I shall do what I can in fossil Cirripedia, and should be
very grateful for specimens ; but I do not believe that species
{and hardly genera) can be defined by single valves; as in
every recent species yet examined their forms vary greatly:
to deseribe a species by valves alone, is the same as to de-
scribe a crab from smaé/ portions of its carapace alone, these
portions being highly variable, and not, as in Crustacea,
modelled over viscera, I sincerely apologise for the trouble
which I have given you, bur indeed I will give no more,
Yours most sincerely,
C. Daawix,
P.S.—In conversation I found Owen and Andrew Smith
much inclined to throw over the practice of attaching au-
thors’ names; I believe if I agitated I could get a large
party to join, W. Thompson agreed some way with me, but
‘was not prepared to go nearly as far as I am.
C Darwin to Hugh Strickland.
Down, Feb, wih [rag].
My prAR SrrickLaNn,—I have again to thank you cor-
dially for your letter. Your remarks shall fructify to some
extent, and I will try to be more faitlfal to rigid virtue and
priority; but as for calling Balanus “Lepas” (which L did
not think of), I cannot do it, my pen won't write it—it is ime
possible. Thave great hopes some of my difficulties will dise
appear, owing to wrong dates in Agassig, and to my baving
to run several genera into one, for I have as yet gone, in but
few cases, to original sources. With respect to adopting my
340 LIFE AT DOWN, TAT. sous [i849
own notions in my Cirripedia book, I should rot like to do
so without I found others approved, and in some public
way—nor, indeed, is it well adapted, us I can never recog
nise a species without I have the original specimen, which,
fortunately, I have in many cases in the British Museum,
‘Thus far I mean to adopt my notion, as never putting mihi
or Darwin" after my own species, 2nd in the anatomical
text giving no authors’ names at all, as the systematic Part
will serve for those who want to know the History of
species as far as I can imperfectly work it out. . . .
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
[The Lodge, Malvern,
‘March atth, tfy9.)
My pra Hooxer,—Your letter of the 13th of October
‘has remained unanswered till this day! What an ungrateful
return for a letter which interested me so much, and which
contained so much and curious information, But I have
had a bad winter,
On the 13th of November, my poor dear father died, and
no one who did not know him would believe that a man
above eighty-three years old could have retained so tender
and affectionate a disposition, with all his sagacity unclouded
to the last, I was at the time so unwell, that I was unable to
travel, which added to my misery. Indeed, all this winter I
have been bad enough . . . and my nervous system began to
he affected, so that my hands trembled, and head was often
swimming. Iwas not able to do anything one day out of
three, and was altogether too dispirited to write to you, or to
do anything but what I was compelled. I thought I was
rapidly going the way of all Mesh, Having heard, accident-
ally, of two persons who had received much benefit from the
water-cure, I got Dr. Gully’s book, and made further en«
quiries, and at last started here, with wife, children, and all
our servants. We have taken 2 house for two months, and
have been here a fortnight, I am already a little stronger
rh4oT HOMEOPATHY. 34r
. «Dr. Gully feels pretty sure he can do me good, which
most certainly the regular doctors could not... . I feel cer
tain that the water-cure is no quackery,
How I shall enjoy getting back to Down with renovated
health, if such is to be my good fortune, and resuming the
beloved Barnacles, Now I hope that you will forgive me for
my negligence in not having sooner answered your letter. I
‘was uncommonly interested by the sketch you give of your
intended grand expedition, from which I suppose you will
soon be returning, How earnestly I hope that it may prove
in every way successful. . . .
{When my father was at the Water-cure Establishment at
Malvern he was brought into contact with clairvoyance, of
which he writes in the following extract from a letter to Fox,
September, 1850.
“You speak about Homeopathy, which is a subject
which makes me more wrath, even than does Clairvoyance,
Clairvoyance so transcends belief, that one’s ordinary facul-
ties are put out of the question, but in homeopathy common
sense and common observation come into play, and both
‘these must go to the dogs, if the infinitesimal doses have any
effect whatever, How true is a remark I saw the other day
by Quetelet, in respect to evidence of curative processes, viz.,
that no one knows in disease what is the simple result of
nothing being done, as a standard with which to compare
homeopathy, and all other such things. It is a sad flaw, I
cannot but think, in my beloved Dr. Gully, that he believes
in everything. When Miss — was very ill, he had a clair
voyant gitl to report on internal changes, a mesmerist to put
her (o sleep—an homaopathist, viz. Dr. —) and himself as
hydropathist ! and the girl recovered,”
‘A passage out of an earlier letter to Fox (December,
4844) shows that he was equally sceptical on the subject of
mesmerism: “With respect to mesmerism, the whole country
resounds with wonderful facts or tales. . . I have just beard
342 LIFE AT DOWN, TAT. 33-45. [rhe
of a child, three or four years old (whose parents and self I
well knew) mesmerised by his father, which is the first fact
which has staggered me. T shall not believe fully ill T see
or hear from good evi of animals (as has been stated is
possible) not drugged, being put to stupor; of course the im:
possibility would not prove mesmerism false; but it is the
only clear experimentum crucis, 2x3 1 am astonished it has
not been systematically tried. If mesmerism was investi«
ated, like a science, this could not have been left till the
present day to be done satisfactorily, as it has been 1 beliewe
left, Keep some cats yoursclf, and do get some mesmeriser
to attempt it, One man told me he had succeeded, but his
experiments were most vague, as was likely from a man who
said cats were more casily done than other animals, because
they were so electrical {""]
C. Darwin tw C. Lyell.
Down, December 4th (1849).
My pear Lyrtt,—This letter requires no answer, and T
write from exuberance of vanity. Dana has sent me the
Geology of the United States Expedition, and 1 hawe just
read the Coral part. To begin with a modest speech, J am
astonished af my ouve accuracy] If L were to rewrite now my
Coral book there is hardly a sentence I should have to alter,
except that Fought to have attributed more effect to recent
volcanic action in checking growth of coral. When I say all
this T ought to add that the comsegueacer of the theory on
areas of subsidence are treated in a separate chapter to which
T have not come, and in this, { suspect, we shall differ more,
ana talks of agreeing with my theory im mest pwints ; Lean
find out not one in which he differs. Considering how ine
finitely more he ssw of Coral Reefs than T did, this is won
derfully satisfactory tome, He treats me most courteously.
‘Fhere now, my vanity is pretty well satisfied. . .
4) GEOLOGY. 343
C. Darwin to J.D. Hooker,
Malvern, April oth, 1849.
My prar Hooker,—The very next morning after posting
my last letter (I think on 23rd of March), I received your two
interesting gossipaccous and geological letters; and the latter
I have since exchanged with Lyell for his. 1 will write
higglety-pigglety just as subjects occur. I saw the Review
in the *Athenvum,’ it was written in an illnatured spirit; but
the whole virus consisted in saying that there was not novelty
enough in your remarks for publication, No-one, nowadays,
cares for reviews, I may just mention. that my Journal got
some read good abuse, * presumption,” &e.—ended with saying
that the volume appeared “made up of the scraps and rub-
bish of the author's portfolio." 1 most truly enter into what
you say, and quite believe you that you care only for the re-
view with respect to your father; and that this a/one would
make you like to sce extracts from your letters more properly
noticed in this same periodical. I have considered to the
very best of my judgment whether any portion of your present
letters are adapted for the ‘Atheneum’ (in which I have no
interest ; the beasts not having even wodiced my three geologi-
cal yolumes which I had sent to them), and I have come
to the conclusion it is better not to send them, I feel sure,
considering all the circumstances, that without you took pains
and wrote sth care, a condensed and finished sketch of some
striking feature in your travels, it is better not to send any-
thing. These two letters are, moreover, rather too geologi-
eal for the * Athenwum,' and almost require woodcuts, On
the other hand, there are hardly enough details for a commu-
nication to the Geological Society. I have not the smatiest
daube that your facts are of the highest interest with regard to
glacial action in the Himalaya; but it struck both Lyell and
myself that your evidence ought to have been given more
distinctly.
T have written so lately that I have nothing to say about
myself; my health prevented me going on with a erusade
LIFE AT DOWN. ETAT. 33-45.
against mihi" and “ nobis,” of which you wam me of the
dangers, I showed my paper to three or four Naturalists,
and they all agreed with me to a certain extent: with health
and vigour, L would not have shown a white feather, [and]
with aid of half-a-dozen really good Naturalists, I believe
something might have been done against the miserable and
degrading passion of mere species naming, In your letter
you wonder what “Ornamental Poultry” has to do with
Barnacles ; but do not flatter yourself that I shall not yet live
to finish the Barnacles, and then make a fool of myself on the
subject of species, under which head ornamental Poultry are
very interesting, . . .
C. Darwin to C. Lyell
‘The Lodge, Malvern (June, 1849}.
+.» Vhave got your book,* and have read all the first and.
a small part of the second volume (reading is the hardest
work allowed here), and greatly I have been interested by it,
It makes me long to be a Yankee. E. desires me to say that
she quite “ gloated™ over the truth of your remarks on re-
ligious progress... I delight to think how you will disgust
some of the bigots and educational dons. As yet there has
not been much Geology or Natural History, for which I hope
you feel a little ashamed. Your remarks on all social subjects
strike me as worthy of the author of the * Principles,’ And
yet (1 know it is prejudice and pride) if f had written the
Principles, 1 never would have written any travels; but T
believe [am more jealous about the honour and glory of the
Principles than you are yourself... .
©. Darwin to C. Lyell.
September t4thy 1849.
«To on with my aqueous processes, and very steadily
but slowly gain health and strength. Against all rules, I dined
A Second Visit 10 the Usined Staves’
1899) LORD STANHOPE. 345
at Chevening with Lord Mahon, who did me the great honour
of calling an me, and how he heard of me T can’t guesa. 1
was charmed with Lady Mahon, and any one might have been
proud at the pieces of agrecableness which came from her
Desutiful lips with respect to you. T like old Lord Stanhope
very much; though he abused Geology and Zoology heartily,
“To suppose that the Omnipotent God made a world, found
it a failure, and broke it upyand then made it again, and
again broke it up, as the Geologists say, is all fiddld faddle,
Describing Species of birds and shells, &c., is all fiddle
faddle. . . .""
T am heartily glad we shall meet at Birmingham, as T trust
we shall, if my health will but keep wp. I work now every
day at the Cirripedia for 2} hours, and so get on a little, but
very slowly. I sometimes, after being a whole week employed
and having described perhaps only two species, agree men-
tally with Lord Stanhope, that it is all fiddle fardle; howe
ever, the other day I got a curious case of a unisexual, instead
of hermaphrodite cirripede, in which the female had the com-
mon cirripedial character, and in two valves of her shell had
two little pockets, in each of which she kept a little husband ;
T do not know of any other case where a female invariably has
two husbands, I have one still odder fact, common to several
species, namely, that though they are hermaphrodite, they
have small additional, or as [shall call them, complemental
males, one specimen itself hermaphrodite had no less than
seven, of these complemental males attached to it. ‘Truly the
schemes and wonders of Nature ate illimitable, But I am
running on as badly about my cirripedia as about Geology;
it makes me groan to think that probably I shall never again
have the exquisite pleasure of making out some new district,
of evolving geological light out of some troubled dark region,
So I must make the best of my Cleripedi
23
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
‘Down, October 12th, rag.
« « « By the way, one of the pleasantest parts of the Brit
ish Association was my journcy down to Birmingham with
‘Mrs. Sabine, Mra. Reeve, and the Colonel; also Col. Siete
and Porter. Mrs. Sabine and myself agreed
fany points, and in none more sincerely than about you. a)
spoke about your letters from the Erebus; and she quite
agreed with me, that you and the auélor,* of the description
of the cattle hunting in the Falklands, would have made a
capital book together! A very nice woman she is, and so is
her sharp and sagacious mother, . . . Birmingham was very flat
compared to Oxford, though I had my wife with me. We
saw a good deul of the Lyells and Horners and Robinsons
(the President) ; but the place was dismal, and Iwas pree
vented, by being unwell, from going to Warwick, though that,
=. the party, by all accounts, was wonderfully inferior to
Blenheim, not to say anything of that heavenly day at Drop-
more, One gets weary of all the spouting, . . .
You ask about my cold-water cure; Iam going on very
well, and am certainly 4 little better every month, my nights:
mend much slower than my days. I have built a douche, and
am to go on Girough all the winter, frost or no frost. My
treatment now is lamp five times per week, and shallow bath
for five minutes afterwards; douche daily for five minutes,
and dripping sheet daily. The treatment is wonderfully tonic,
and I have had more better consecutive days this month
than on any previous ones... . Lam allowed to work now
two and a half hours daily, and I find it a8 much as I can doy
for the cold-water cure, together with three short walks, is
curiously exhausting ; and Iam actually forced to go to hed
at cight o'clock completely tired. 1 steadily gain in weight,
* Sir J. Hooker wrote the spirited description of eattle hunting in Sir
J. Ram's * Voyage of Discovery in the Southern Regions’ 1847, ¥0l. iy
Pa
re0] WATER-CURE, 347
and eat immensely, and am never oppressed with my food.
Thave lost the involuntary witching of the muscle, and all
the fainting feelings, &e —black spots before eyes, &e. Dr,
Gully thinks he shall quite cure me in six or nine months
more.
‘The greatest bore, which I find in a the water-cure, is the
having been compelled to give up all reading, except the
newspapers ; for my daily two and a half hours at the Bar
nacles is fully as much as T can do of anything which oceue
Tam consequently terribly behind in all sei-
T have of late been at work at mere species
describing, which is much more difficult than I expected, and
has much the same sort of interest as a puzzle has; but I
confess I often feel wearied with the work, and cannot help
sometimes asking myself what is the good of spending a week
or fortnight in ascertaining that certain just perceptible dif-
ferences blend together and constitute varictics and not
species. As long as I am on anatomy I never feel mysclf in
that disgusting, horrid, cut done, inquiring, humour, What
miserable work, again, it is searching for priority of names,
T have just finished two species, which possess seven generic,
and twenty-four specific names! My chief comfort is, that
the work must be sometime donc, and 1 may as well do it, as
any one else.
Ihave given up my agitation against mii and nobis » my
Paper is too long to send to you, 60 you must see it, if you
care to do so, on your return. By-the-way, you say in your
letter that you care more for my species work than for the
Barnacles ; now this is too bac of you, for I declare your
decided approval of my plain Barnacle work over theoretic
species work, had very great influence in deciding me to go
on with the former, and defer my species paper.
[The following letter refers to the death of his litle
daughter, which took place at Malvern on April 24, 1851 =]
My bkak ath Lees ee
‘of our bitter and cruel loss, Poor dear little Annie,
going on very well at Malvern, was taken with a vo
attack, which was at first thought of the smallest os ene
‘but it rapidly assumed the form of a low and dreadful
only consolation is that she passed a pte though Jonous ie
‘She was my favourite child ; her cordiality, openness, b
joyousness and strong affections made her most lo
Poor dear little soul, Well it is all over... .
C, Darwin to W. D. Fox.
‘Down, March yuh (1853),
My pax Fox,—It is indeed an age since we have had
any communication, and very glad I was to receive your note.
‘Oar long silence occurred to me a few weeks since, and I had —
then thought of writing, but was idle, 1 congratulate and
condole with you on your éemt child; but please os
when Thave a tenth, send only condolences to me. We ha
now seven children, all well, thank God, as well as thei
mother; of these seven, five mre boys; and my father used to
say that it was certain that a boy gave as much trouble as
three girls; 0 that Jond fide we have seventeen children. It
makes me sick whenever I think of professions; all seem
hopelessly bad, and as yet 1 cannot see a ray of light’ I
should very much like to talk over this (by the way, my three —
bugbears are Californian and Australian gold, bey
by making my money on mortgage worth nothin,
coming by the Westerham and Sevenoaks roads, and theres
fore enclosing Down; and thirdly, professions for my boys),
‘ind I should like to talk about education, on which you ask
me what we are doing No one can more truly despise the
Bs il
1852.) EDUCATION. 349
old stereotyped stupid classical education than T do; but yet
T have not had courage to break through the trammels, After
many doubts we have just sent our eldest boy to Rugby,
where for his age he has been very well placed. . . . L honour,
admire, and envy you for educating your boys at home,
What on earth shall you do with your boys? ‘Towards the
end of this month we go to see W. at Rugby, and thence for
five or six days to Susan® at Shrewsbury; I then return
home to look after the babies, and E. goes to F. Wedgwood's
of Etruria for a week. Very many thanks for your most kind
and large invitation to Delamere, but I fear we can hardly
compass it. I dread going anywhere, on account of my
stomach so easily failing under any excitement, 1 rarely
‘even now go to London ; not that T am at all worse, perhaps
rather better, and lead a very comfortable life with my three
hours of daily work, but it is the life of a hermit, My nights
are atways bad, and that stops my becoming vigourous. You
ask about water-cure. I take at intervals of two or three
months, five or six weeks of moderately severe treatment, and
always with good effect, Do you came here, I pray and beg
whenever you can find time; you cannot tell how much
pleasure it would give me and KE, 1 have finished the ast
vol. for the Ray Society of Pedunculated Cirripedes, which,
as T think you are a member, you will soon get. Read what
Ideseribe on the sexes of Thla and Sealpellum. Iam naw
at work on the Sessile Cirripedes, and am wonderfully tired
of my job: a man to be a systematic naturalist ought to work
at least eight hours per day. You saw through me, when
you said that I must have wished to have seen the effects of
the [word illegible] Debacle, for £ was saying a week ago to
F,, that had T been as I was in old days, I would have been
certainly off that hour. You ask after Erasmus; he fs much
as usual, and constantly more or less unwell. Susan is much
Detter, and very flourishing and happy. Catherine* is at
Rome, and bas enjoyed it in a degree that is quite astonish
* His sisters,
(MIFE AT DOWN, JETAT, 33-46.
fing to my old dry bones, And now I think I have told yc
enough, and more than enough about the house of Darwin;
so my dear old friend, farewell. What pleasant times we had
in drinking coffee in your rooms at Christ's College, and think
‘of the glories of Crux ma) Ab, in those days there were
no professions for sons, no ill-health to fear for them, no Cali«
fornian gold, no French invasions, How paramount the
future is to the present when one is surrounded by chile
dren. My dread is hereditary ill-health, Even death is bet~
ter for them. My dear Fox, your sincere friend,
C. Danwin.
P.S—Susan has lately been working in a way which I
‘think truly heroic about the scandalous violation of the Act
against children climbing chimneys. We have set up a little
Society in Shrewsbury to prosecute those who break the law.
It is all Susan’s doing, She has had very nice letters from
Lord Shaftesbury and the Duke of Sutherland, but the brutal
Shropshire squires are as hard as stones to move. The Act
out of London seems most commonly violated. It makes one |
shudder to fancy ane of one's own children at seven years
old being forced up a chimney—to say nothing of the conse=
quent loathsome disease and ulcerated limbs, and utter moral i
degradation. ff you think strongly on this subject, do make
some enquiries; add to your many good works, this other |
one, and try to stir up the magistrates There are several
people making a stir in different parts of England on this
subject. Itis not very likely that you would wish for such,
but T could send you some essays and information if you so
liked, either for yourself or to give away.
C. Darwin to WD. Fox,
Down [October auth, #852].
My pear Fox,—I received your long and most welcome
letter this morning, and will answer it this evening, as 1 shall
be very busy with an artist, drawing Cirripedia, and much
* The beetle Memapeur eruxnajer.
A d
asa) oLp DAYS. ar
overworked for the next fortnight. But first you deserve to
‘be well abused—and pray consider yourself well abused—for
thinking or writing that T could for one minute be bored by
any amount of detail about yourself and belongings, It is
just what Llike hearing; believe me that I often think of old
ays spent with you, and sometimes can hardly believe what a
jolly careless individual one was in those old days, A bright
autumn evening often brings to mind some shooting excursion
from Osmaston, I do indeed regret that we live so far off
each other, and that I am so little locomotive. T have been
unusually well of late (no water-cure), but J do not find that
I can stand any change better than formerly. . . The other
day I went to London and back, and the fatigue, though so
trifling, brought on my bad form of vomiting. I grieve to
hear that your chest has been ailing, and most sincerely-do
T hope that it is only the muscles; how frequently the voice
fails with the clergy, I can well understand your reluctance
to break up your large and happy party and go abroad ; but
your life is very valuable, so you ought to be very cautious in
good time. You ask about all of us, now five boys (oh ! the
professions ; oh! the gold; and oh! the French—these three
oh’s all rank as dreadful bugbears) and two girls . . . but
another and the worst of my bugbears is hereditary weakness.
All my sisters are well except Mrs. Parker, who is much out of
health ; and so is Erasmus at his poor average : he has lately
moved into Queen Anne Street. I had heard of the intended
marriage * of your sister Frances, { believe I have seen her
since, but my memory takes me back some twenty-five years,
when she was lying down, 1 remember well the delightful
expression of her countenance. I most sincerely wish her all
happiness,
1 sce T have not answered half your queries, We like very
well all that we have seen and heard of Rugby, and have
never repented of sending [W.] there. I fecl sure schools
have greatly improved since our days; but I hate schools and
* To the Rey. J. Hughes
352 LIFE AT DOWN. ASTAT. ays.
the whole system of breaking through the affections of the
family by separating the boys so early in Jife; but I sce no
help, and dare not run the risk of a youth being exposed 10
the temptations of the world without having undergone the
milder ordeal of a great school.
T see you even ask alter our pears, We have lots of
Beurrées d'Aremberg, Winter Nelis, Marie Louise, and “Ne
plus Ultra,” but all off the wall; the standard dwarfs have
borne a few, but T have no room for more trees, so their
names would be useless ta me. You really must make a
holiday and pay us a visit sometime; nowhere could you be
more heartily welcome. 1 am at work at the second volume
of the Cirripedia, of which creatures I am wonderfully fred.
T hate a Barnacle as no man ever did before, not even a sailor
inn slow-sailing ship. My first volume is out; the only part
worth looking at i on the sexes of Ibla and Scalpellum. 1
hope by next summer to have done with my tedious work,
Farewell,—do come whenever you can possibly manage it,
T cannot but hope that the carbuncle may possibly do you
good : I have heard of all sorts of weaknesses disappearing
after a carbuncle. f suppose the pain is dreadfal. I agree
most entirely, what a blessed discovery is chloroform. When
‘one thinks of one’s children, it makes quite a little difference
in one’s happiness. ‘The other day I had five grinders (two
by the elevatoc) out at a sitting under this wonderful sube
stance, and felt hardly anything.
My dear old friend, yours very affectionately,
Chantes Daxwimy
C. Darsin to WD. Fox,
Down, Josaary soth {r8gg}
My prar Fox,—Your last account some months ago was
20 little satisfactory that I have often been thinking of you,
and should be really obliged if you would give me a few tines,
and tell me how your voice and chest are, I most sincerely
hope that your report will be good. . . . Our second lad has
ee _|
hss] EDUCATION. 355
@ strong mechanical turn, and we think of making him an
engineer, 1 shall try and find out for him some Jess classical
school, perhaps Bruce Castle. I certainly should like to see
more diversity in education than there is in any ordinary
achool—no exercising of the observing or reasoning faculties,
no general knowledge acquired—I must think it a wretehed
system. On the other hand, a boy who his learnt to stick at
Latin and conquer its difficulties, ought to be able to stick at
any labour, I should always be glad to hear anything about
schools or education from you. 1 am at my old, never-end-
ing subject, but trust I shall really go to press in a few months:
with my second volume on Cirripedes. I have been much
pleased by finding some odd facts in my first volume believed
by Owen and a few others, whose good opinion I regard as
final... . Do write pretty soon, and tell me all you can
about yourself and family; and I trust your report of your-
self may be much better than your last,
+». I have been very little in London of late, and have
not seen Lyell since his return ftom America; how lucky he
was to exhume with his own hand parts of three skeletons of
reptiles out of the Carduniferous strata, and out of the inside
of a fossil tree, which had been hollow within,
Farewell, my dear Fox, yours affectionately,
Cuantes Darwix.
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
13 Sea Houses, Easthoume,
[oly asin? 38¢3}.
My DEAR Fox,—Here we are in a state of profound
ness, which to me isa luxury; and we should all, L believe,
have been in a state of high enjoyment, had it not been for
the detestable cold gales and much rain, which always gives
much ennué to children away from their homes, L received
your letter of 13th June, when working like a slave with Mr
Sowerby at drawing for my second volume, and 40 put olf
answering it till when I knew I should be at leisure, I was
384 LIFE AT DOWN. TAT. sous. tts
extremely glad to get your letter, I had intended a couple
of months ago sending you a savage or sapplicating jobation
to know how you were, when I met Sir P, Egerton, who told
me you were well, and, as usual, expressed his admiration of
your doings, especially your farming, and the number of ani-
mals, including children, which you kept on your land.
Eleven children, ave Maria! it is a serious look-out for you.
Indeed, 1 look at my five boys as something awful, and hate
the very thoughts of professions, &c. If one could insure
moderate health for them it would not signify so much, for
cannot but hope, with the enormous emigration, professions
will somewhat improve. But my bugbear is hereditary weak-
ness. I particularly like to hear all that you can say about
education, and you deserve to be scolded for saying “you did
not mean to forment me with a long yarn,” You ask about
Rugby. I like it very well, on ths same principle as my
neighbour, Sir J. Lubbock, likes Eton, viz, that it is not
warse than any other school ; the expense, tith all Ge, Ge,
including some clothes, travelling expenses, &c is from £110
to£120 per annum, I do not think schools are so wicked as
they were, and far more industrious. ‘The boys, I think, live
too secluded in their separate studies ; and I doubt whether
they will get so much knowledge of character as boys used to
do; and this, in my opinion, is the one good of public schools
over small schools, I should think the only superiority of a
small school over home was forced regularity in their work,
which your boys pethaps get at your home, but which I do
not believe my boys would get at my home. Otherwise, it is
quite lamentable sending boys so early in life from their home.
» To return to schools. My main objection to them,
as places of education, is the enormous proportion of time
spent over classics. I fancy (though perhaps it is only fancy)
that I can perceive the ill and contracting effect on my eldest
boy's mind, in checking interest in anything in which reason
ing and observation come into play. Mere memory seems to
be worked, I shall certainly look out for some school with
more diversified studies for my younger boys. 1 was talking
#863.) CONDOLENCE, 355
lately to the Dean of Hereford, who takes most strongly this
view ; and he tells me that there isa school at Hereford com-
mening on this plan; and that Dr, Kennedy at Shrewsbury
is going to begin vigorously to modify that school. . . .
Tam extremely glad to hear that you approved of my cirri-
pedial volume, 1 have spent an almost ridiculous amount of
labour on the subject, and certainly would never have under-
taken it had I foreseen what a job it was. I hone to have
finished by the end of the year, Do write again before a very
long time; it is a real pleasure to me to hear from you.
Farewell, with my wife's kindest remembrances to yourself
and Mrs. Fox.
‘My dear old friend, yours affectionately,
C, Darwin,
C Darwin te WD. Fox.
Down, August zoth [r653).
‘My pean Fox,—T thank you sincerely for writing to me
80 soon after your most heavy misfortune. Your letter
affected me so much, We both most truly sympathise with
you and Mrs, Fox, We too lost, as you may remember, not
30 very long ago, a most dear child, of whom I can hardly yet
bear to think tranquilly; yet, as you must know from your
own most painfal experience, time softens and deadens, in a
manner truly wonderful, one’s feelings and regrets, At first
it is indeed bitter. I can only hope that your health and
that of poor Mrs, Fox may be preserved, and that time may
do its work softly, and bring you all together, once again, as
the happy family, which, as 1 can well believe, you so lately
formed,
My dear Fox, your affectionate friend,
Cuaries Darwin,
[The following letter refers to the Royal Society's Medal,
which was awarded to bim in November, 1853 :]
356 LIFE AT DOWN, ‘TAT. 33-45. [iss
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, November sth [1353].
My pear Hooxer,—Amongst my letters riceived this
morning, 1 opened first one from Colonel Sabine; the con-
tents certainly surprised me very much, but, though the letter
was @ very kind onc, somehow, I cared very little indeed for
the announcement it contained, 1 then opened yours, and
such is the effect of warmth, friendship, and kindness from
‘one that is loved, that the very same fact, told as you told it,
made me glow with pleasure till my very heart throbbed.
Believe me, I shall not soon forget the pleasure of your letter,
Such hearty, affectionate sympathy is worth more than all
the medals that ever were or will be coined, Again, my
dear Hooker, I thank you. 1 hope Lindley * will never hear
that he was a competitor against me; for really it is almost
ridiculous (of course you would never repeat that I said this,
for it would be thought by others, though not, I believe, by
you, to be affectation) his not having the medal long before
me; I must fecl sure that you did quite right to propose hint +
* John Lindley (1799. 4. 1863) was the son of x numeryman near
Norwich, through whoxe failure in business he was thrown at the age of
twenty on his own resources. Fle was befriended by Sir W. Hooker, and
tant librarian by Sie f. Hanks He seems to have had.
‘enormous capacity of work, snd is said to Taye translated Richard's "Ana
Iyse da Fruit’ ot one sitting of two days and dhree nights He became
Avistant-Secrotary to the Horticultural Society, and in 1839 was appoliited
Frofewor of Botany st University College, a post which he hedd for up=
wards of thinty years Mis writings are numerous: the best keawn being
perhaps his ‘ Vegetable Kingdom,’ published in 1246, His influence in
helping to introduce the natural system of clawification was considerable,
and he brought "alt the weight of his teaching and all the force of hie
controversial powers to support it,” as wgainst the Li stern wnivere
sally taught in the earlier part of his career Sachs points out (Gesehichte
der Botanik, 137s. p. 162}, that though Lindley adopted in the maia a
sound elasification af plants, he only did so by abandoning hin own the
oretical principle that the plyssiological Importance of an organ ix x mene
ure of its classfieatory value.
‘employed as a0
854] GEOLOGY. 337
and what a good, dear, kind fellow you are, nevertheless, to
rejoice in this honour being bestowed on me.
What plearure L have felt on the occasion, I owe almost
entirely to you,
Farewell, my dear Hooker, yours affectionately,
C. Danwix,
P.S.—You may believe what a surprise it was, for I had
never heard that The medals could be given except for papers
in the* Transactions,’ All this will make me work with better
heart at finishing the second volume.
C. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, February 18th [1854].
My pear Lyntt,—I should have written before, had it
not seemed doubtful whether you would go on to Teneriffe,
but now J am extremely glad to hear your further progress is
certain ; not that I have much of any sort to say, as you may
well believe when you hear that I have only once been in
London since you started. I was particularly glad to see, two
days since, your letter to Mr. Horner, with its geological
news; how fortunate for you that your knees are recovered,
Iam astonished at what you say of the beauty, though I had
fancied it great. It really makes me quite envious to think
of your clambering up and down those steep valleys, And
what a pleasant party on your return from your expeditions.
T often think of the delight which I felt when examining vol-
canic islands, and I can remember even particular rocks
which I struck, and the smell of the hot, black, scoriaceous
cliffs; but of those Aet smells you do not seem to have had
much, Ido quite envy you, How I should like to be with
you, and speculate on the deep and narrow valleys.
How very singular the fact is which you mention about
the inclination of the strata being greater round the cireum-
ference than in the middle of the island; do you suppose the
elevation has had the form of a flat dome? I remember in the
Cordillera being often struck with the greater
the strata in the dow extreme outermost ranges,
with the great mass of inner mountains, I dare say you will
have thought of measuring exuctly the width of any
atthe top and bottom of any great cliff (which was done by —
Mr, Searle [?] at St, Helena), for it bas often struck me ax
very odd that the cracks did not die out offener upwards, I
can think of hardly any news to tell you, a3 T have seen no
‘one since being in London, when I was delighted to see
Forbes looking so well, quite big and burly. I saw at the
‘Museum some of the surprisingly rich gold ore from North
Wales. Ramsay also told me that he has lately turned a
good deal of New Red Sandstone {nto Permian, together
with the Labyrinthodon. No doubt you see newspapers, and
know that E. de Beaumont is perpetual Seoretary, and will,
I suppose, be more powerful than ever; and Le Verrier has
Arago’s place in the Observatory. ‘There was a meeting
lately at the Geological Society, at which Prestwich (judging
from what R. Jones told me) brought forward your exact
theory, viz. that the whole red elay and flints over-the chalk
plateau hereabouts is the residuum from the slow dissolution
of the chalk!
As regards ourselves, we have no news, and are all well,
‘The Hookers, sometime ago, stayed a fortnight with us, and,
to our extreme delight, Henslow came down, and was most
quiet and comfortable here, Tt does one good to see so com-
posed, benevolent, and intellectual a countenance, There
have been great fears that his heart is affected; but, I hope
to God, without foundation, Hooker's book™ is out, and
most beautifully gotup, He has honoured me beyond meas
ure by dedicating it to me! As for myself, 1 am got to the
page 112 of the Baracles, and that is the sum total of my
history, By-the-way, as you care so much about North
America, I may meotion that I had a long letter from a ship-
mate in Australia, who says the Colony is getting decidedly
Sie J. Hooker's * Himalayan Journal!’
—
3854.) “HIMALAYAN JOURNAL? 359
republican from the influx of Americans, and that all the
great and novel schemes for working the gold are planned
and executed by these men. What 3 go-a-head nation it is!
Give my kindest remembrances to Lady Lyell, and to Mri
Bunbury, and to Bunbury. 1 most heartily wish that the
Canaries may be ten times as interesting as Madeira, and
that everything may go on most prosperously with your
whole party.
My dear Lyell,
‘Yours most truly and affectionately,
C. Danwin,
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, Mateh 1st [1859].
My pear Hooxnn,—I finished yesterday evening the
first volume, and I very sincerely congratulate you on hay-
ing produced a jirst-class book*—a book which certainly will
last, 1 cannot doubt that it will take its place as a standard,
not so much becwuse it contains real solid matter, but that it
gives a picture of the whole country. One can feel that one
has seen it (and desperately uncomfortable T felt in going
over some of the bridges und steep slopes), and one realises
all the great Physical features, You have in truth reason to
be proud; consider how few travellers there have been with
a profound knowledge of one subject, and who could in
addition make a map (which, by-the-way, is one of the most
distinct ones I ever looked at, wherefore blessings alight on
your head), and study geology and meteorology! T thought
T knew you very well, but I had not the least idea that your
‘Travels were your hobby; but IT am heartily glad of it, for I.
feel sure that the time will never come when you and Mrs
Hooker will not be proud to look back at the labour be+
stowed on these beautiful volumes.
Your letter, received this morning, has interested me exe
©" Himalayan Journal.”
360 LIFE AT DOWN, ATAT. go-a5- [se
tremely, and 1 thank you sincerely for telling me your old
thoughts and aspirations, All that you say makes me even
more deeply gratified by the Dedication; but you, bad man,
do you remember asking ine how I thought Lyell would like
the work to be dedicated to him? 1 remember how strongly
Tanswered, and I presume you wanted to know what I should
feel; whoever would have dreamed of your being so. crafty?
1am glad you have shown a little bit of ambition about your
Journal, for you must know that I have often abused you for
not caring more about fame, though, at the same time, I must
confess, I have envied and honoured you for being so free
(too free, as I have always thought) of this “last infirmity of,
&e." Do not say, “there never was a past hitherto to me—
the phantom was always in view," for you will soon find
other phantoms in view. How well I know this feeling, and
did formerly still more vividly; but I think my stomach has
much deadened my former pure enthusiasm for science and
knowledge.
Iam writing an unconscionably long letter, but I must
return to the Journals, about which I have hardly said any-
thing in detail. Imprimis, the illustrations and maps appear
to me the best I have ever seen; the style seems to me
everywhere perfectly clear (how rare a virtue), and some pats
sages really eloquent. How excellently you have described
the upper valleys, and how detestable their climate; I felt
quite anxious on the slopes of Kinchin that dreadful snowy
night, Nothing has astonished me more than your physical
strength ; and all those devilish bridges! Well, thank goods
ness! it is not very likely that I shall ever go to the Hima-
laya, Much in a scientific point of view has interested me,
especially all about those wonderful moraines. 1 certainly
think I quite realise the valleys, more ly perhaps from
having seen the valleys of Tahiti. I cannot doubt that the
Himalaya owe almost all their contour to. running water, and
that they haye been subjected to such action longer than any
mountains (as yet described) in the world. What a contrast
with the Andes!
tea) TASMANIA. 364
Perhaps you would Nke to hear the veey little that I can
‘say fer contra, and this only applied to the beginning, in
which (as it struck me) there was not flow enough till yon get
to Mirzapore on the Ganges (but the Thugs were most inter-
esting), where the stream seemed to carry you on more
equably with longer sentences and longer facts and discus-
sions, &c, In another edition (and 1 am delighted to hear
that Murray has sold all off), 1 would consider whether this
part could not be condensed. Even if the meteorology was
put in foot-notes, I think it would be an improvement. All
the world is against me, but it makes me very unhappy to see
the Latin names all in Italics, and all mingled with English
names in Roman type; but I must bear this burden, for all
men of Science seem to think it would corrupt the Latin to
dress it up in the same type as poor old English, Well, T
am very proud of my book; but there is one bore, that I do
not much like asking people whether they have seen it, and
how they like it, for 1 feel so much identified with it, that
such questions become rather personal, Hence, I cannot
tell you the opinion of others. You will have seen a fairly
good review in the *Athenxum.”
What capital news from Tasmania: it really is a very re=
markable and creditable fact to the Colony.” 1 am always
building veritable castles in the air about emigrating, and
‘Tasmania has been my bead-quarters of late ; so that I feel
very proud of my adopted country: it is really a very singu-
lar and delightful fact, contrasted with the slight appreciation
‘of science in the old country, I thank you heartily for your
letter this morning, and for all the gratification your Dedie:
tion has given me; I could not help thinking how mach —
would despise you for not having dedicated it to some great
man, who would have done you and it some good in the eyes
of the world. Ah, my dear Hooker, you were very soft on
this head, and justify what I say about not earing enough for
* This refers to an unsolicited grant by the Colonial Government
towards the expenses of Sir J. Hooker's * Flora of Tasmania”
a
362 LIFE AT DOWN, TAT. x45. [rts
your own fame. I wish [ was in every way more worthy of
your good opinion. Farewell, How pleasantly Mrs, Hooker
and you must rest from one of your many labours. . .
Again farewell: I have written a wonderfully long letter,
Adios, and God bless you,
My dear Hooker, ever yours,
C. Danwix,
P,S.—T have just looked over my rambling letter; T see
that I have not at all expressed my strong admiration at the
amount of scientific work, in so many branches, which you
have effected. It is really grand, You have a right to rest
on your oars ; or even to say, if it so pleascs you, that “your
meridian is past ;" but well assured do I feel that the day of
your reputation and general recognition has only just begun
to dawn,
{In September, 1854, his Cirripede work was practically
finished, and he wrote to Dr. Hooker:
“T have been frittering away my time for the last several
weeks in a wearisome manner, partly idleness, and odds and
ends, and sending ten thousand Barnacles out of the house
all over the world, But I shall now in a day or two begin to
look over my old notes on species, What a deal I shall have
to discuss with you; I shall have to look sharp that I do not
‘progress’ into one of the greatest bores in life, to the few
like you with lots of knowledge."']
CHAPTER X.
THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES.”
[Ow page 67, the growth of the ‘Origin of Species” has
‘Deen briefly described in my father's words. The letters
given in the present and following chapters will illustrate and
amplify the history thus sketched out,
It is clear that in the early part of the voyage of the
Beagle be did not feel it inconsistent with his views to express
himself in thoroughly orthodox language as to the genesis of
new species. Thus in 1834 he wrote® at Valparaiso: “I
have already found beds of recent shells yet retaining their
colour at an ¢levation of 1300 feet, and beneath, the level
country is strewn with them, It seems not a very improbable
conjecture that the want of animals may be owing to none
having been created since this country was raised from the
sea,”
This passage does not oceur in the published ‘Journal’
the last proof of which was finished in 1837 ; and this fact
harmonizes with the change we know to” have been proceed-
ing in his views, But in the published ‘Journal ' we find pas-
sages which show a point of view more in accordance with
orthodox theological natural history than with his later views,
‘Thus, in speaking of the birds Synallaxis and Scytalopus (1st
edit. p. 3535 and edit, p. 289), he says: “When finding, as
in this case, any animal which seems to play so insignificant
* MS, Journals, p. 408
364 THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES!
apart in the great scheme of nature, one is apt to wonder
why & distinct species should have been created.”
A comparison of the two editions of the ‘ Journal” is ine
structive, as giving some idea of the development af his views
on evolution. It does not give us a true index of the mass
of conjecture which was taking shape in his mind, but it
shows us that he felt sure enough of the truth of his belief
to allow a stronger tinge of evolution to appear in the second
edition, He has mentioned in the Autobiography (p. 68)
that it was not until he read Malthus that he got a clear view
of the potency of natural selection. ‘This was in 1838—a
year after he finished the first edition (it was not published
until 1839), and five years before the second edition was
written (1845), Thus the turning-polot in the formation of
his theory took place between the writing of the two editions,
Twill first give a few passages which are practically the
same in the two editions, and which are, therefore, chiefly of
interest as illustrating his frame of mind in 1857.
‘The case of the two species of Molothrus (rst edit. p. 61;
2nd edit. p. §3) must have been one of the earliest instances:
noticed by him of the existence of representative species—a
phenomenon which we know (' Autobiography,’ p. 68) strack
him deeply. The discussion on introduced animals (1st edi
Pp. 1395 2nd edit, p, 190) shows how much he was impressed
by the complicated interdependence of the inhabitants of a
n area.
An analogous point of view is given in the discussion (1st
edit. p, 98; and edit. p, 85) of the mistaken belief that large
animals require, for their support, a luxuriant vegetation; the
incortectness of this view is illustrated by the comparivon of
the fauna of South Africa and South America, and the vege
tation of the two continents. ‘The interest of the discussion
is that it shows clearly our é Arivrf ignorance of the condi-
tions of life suitable to any organism,
‘There is a passage which has been more than once quoted
2 bearing on the origin of his views, It is where he dise
cusses the striking difference between the species of mice om
THE ‘NATURALISTS VOYAGES 365
the east and west of the Andes (rst edit. p. 399): “Unless
we suppose the same species to have been crested in two dif-
ferent countries, we qught not to expect any closer similarity
between the organic beings on the opposite sides of the
Andes than on shores separated by a broad strait of the sea.""
In the and edit, p. 327, the passage is almost verbally identi-
cal, and is practically the same,
There are other passages again which are more strongly
evolutionary in the and edit., but otherwise are similar to the
corresponding passages in the 1st edition. ‘Thus, in deserib-
ing the blind Tuco-tuco (rst edit. p. 60; and edit. p. 52), in
the first edition he makes no allusion to what Lamarek might
have thought, nor is the instance used as. an example of modi-
fication, as in the edition of 1845.
A striking passage occurs in the 2nd edit, (p. 173) on the
relationship between the “extinct edentata and the living
sloths, ant-eaters, and armadillos.”
“This wonderful relationship in the same continent be=
tween the dead and the living, will, I do not doubt, hereafter
throw more light on the appearance of organic beings on our
earth, and their disappearance from it, than any other class
‘of facts.
This sentence does not occur in the rst edit,, but he was
evidently profoundly struck by the disappearance of the gigan-
tic forerunners of the present animals, ‘The difference be=
tween the discussions in the two editions is most instructive.
In both, our ignorance of the conditions of life is insisted on,
but in the second edition, the discussion is made to lead up
to a strong statement of the intensity of the struggle for life.
‘Then follows a comparison between rarity* and extinctios
which introduces the idea that the preservation and domir
nance of existing species depend on the degree in which they
are adapted to surrounding conditions, In the first edition,
* fo the second edition, p. t46, the destruction of Niata eattle by
droughts is given as a good example of our ignatance of the casises of rare
ity or extinction, The passage does nof occur in the Git edition.
366 THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN
he is merely “tempted to believe in such simple relations ag
variation of climate and food, or introduction of enemies, or
the increased number of other species, as the cause of the
succession of races” But finally (rst edit.) he ends the
chapter by comparing the extinction of a species to the ex=
haustion and disappearance of varieties of fruit-trees: as if
he thought that a mysterious term of life was impressed on
each species at its creation,
‘The difference of treatment of the Galapagos problem is
of some interest. in the earlier book, the American type of
the productions of the islands is noticed, aa is the fact that
the different islands possess forms specially their own, but the
importance of the whole problem is not so strongly put fore
ward, Thus, in the first edition, he merely says —
“This similarity of type between distant islands and con
tinents, while the species are distinct, has scarcely been suffi<
ciently noticed. ‘The circumstance would be explained, ac-
cording to the views of some authors, by saying that the crea~
tive power had acted acrording to the same law over a wide
set edit, p. 474.)
passage is not given in the second edition, and the
generalisations on geographical distribution are much wider
and fuller. Thus he asks >—
“Why were their aboriginal inhabitants, associated , .
in different propartions both in kind and number from those
on the Continent, and therefore acting on each other in a dife
ferent manner—why were they created on American types of
organisation? "(znd edit. p. 393.)
The same difference of treatment is shown elsewhere in
this chapter. ‘Thus the gradation in the form of beak pre=
sented by the thirteen allied species of finch is described in.
the first edition (p. 461) without comment. Whereas in the
second edition (p, 380) he concludes -—
“One might really fancy that from an original paucity of
birds in this Archipelago, ane species has been taken and
modified for different ends."
‘On the whole it seems to me remarkable that the difference
NOTE-BOOK OF 3833. 367
between the two editions is not greater; it is another proof
‘of the author's caution and self-restraint in the treatment of
his theory, After reading the second edition of the * Joure
we find with a strong sense of surprise haw far devel
oped were his views in 1837. We are enabled to form an
opinion on this point from the note-books in which he wrote
down detached thoughts and queries. 1 shall quote from the
first note-book, completed between July 1837 and. February
1838: and this is the more worth doing, as it gives us an ine
sight into the condition of his thoughts before the reading of
Malthus. The notes are written in his most hurried style,
so many words being omitted, that it is often difficult to
arrive at the meaning, With a few exceptions (indicated by
‘square brackets) * I have printed the extracts as written; the
punctuation, hawever, has been altered, and a few obvious
slips corrected where it seemed necessary, ‘The extracts are
not printed in order, but are roughly classified.
“ Propagation explajns why modern animals same type as
extinct, which is law, almost proved."
“ We can see why structure is common in certain countries
when we can hardly believe necessary, but if it was necessary
10 one forefather, the result would be as it is. Hence ante«
lopes at Cape of Good Hope; marsupials at Australia.
“Countries longest separated greatest differences—if separ
rated from immersage, possibly two distinct types, but each
having its representatives—as in Australia.”
“Will this apply to whole organic kingdom when our
planet first cooled?"
The two following extracts show that he applied the theary
* In the extracts from the notesbook ordinary brackets represent my
father's parentheses.
+n the first page of the notesbook, ix written " Zoonomin” ; this
seems to refer to the first few pages ia which reproduction by gemmation
is discussed, and where the “Zoonomia” is mentioned, Many pages have
een cut out of the uote-book, probably for use in writing the Sketch of
1844, and these woold have no doubt contained the most interesting
extracts,
esrarolsion tie ¥ whole organic kingdom " from pl
ceereae choose to let conjecture run wild, then animals,
our fellow brethren in pain, disease, death, suffering and fara
ine—our slaves in the most laborious works, our companions:
in our amusements—they may partake [of] our origin in one
common ancestor—we may be all melted together.”
“The different intellects of man and animals not so great
4s between living things without thought (plants), and living,
things with thought (animals).
‘The following extracts are again concerned with and priert
view of the probability of the origin of species by descent
[** propagation,” he called it],
“The tree of life should perhaps be called the coral of
life, base of branches dead; so that passages cannot be
baat
‘There never may have been grade between pig and tapir,
yet from some common progenitor. Now if the intermediate
ranks had produced infinite species, probably the serves would
have been more perfect.”
At another place, speaking of intermediate forms he
mys —
“ Cuvier objects to propagation of species by saying, why
have not some intermediate forms been discovered between
Paleotherium, Megalonyx, Mastodon, and the species now
living? Now according to my view (in S. America) parent of
all Armadilloes might be brother to Megatherium—uncle now
dead.”
Speaking elsewhere of intermediate forms, he remarks —
“Opponents will say—sAvw them me. Twill answer yes, if
you will show me every step between bulldog and grey-
hound.”
Here we sec that the case of domestic animals was already
present in his mind 2s bearing on the production of natural
species. The disappearance of intermediate fornts naturally
Jeads up to the subject of extinction, with which the pext
extract begins.
XNOTE-DOOK OF 1837. a
“Tt is a wonderful fact, horse, elephant, and mastodon,
dying out about same time in such different quarters,
“WIN Mr, Lyell say that some [same?] circumstance
killed it over a tract from Spain to South America ?—~
(Never).
“They die, without they change, like golden pippins ; it
is 2 generation of species like generation of individuals,
* Why does individual die? To perpetuate certain peculi-
atities (therefore adaptation), and obliterate accidental varie~
ties, and to accommodate itself to change (for, of course,
change, even in varieties, is accommodation). Now this
argument applies to species.
“If individual cannot propagate he has no issue—so with
species,
“If species generate other spectes, their race is not utterly:
cut off :-—like golden pippins, if produced by seed, go on—
otherwise all die.
“The fossil horse yenerated, in South Africa, zebra—and
continued—perished in America,
“All animals of same species are bound together just like
‘buds of plants, which die at one time, though produced either
sooner or later. Prove animals like plants—trace gradation
etween associated and non-associated animals—and the story
will be complete.”
Here we have the view already alluded to of « term of life
impressed on a species
But in the following note we get extinction connected with
unfavourable variation, and thus a hint is given of natural
selection >
“With respect to extinction, we can easily see that (aj
variety of [the] ostrich (Petisc), may not be well adapted,
and thus perish out; or, on the other hand, like Orpheus [a
Galapagos bird], being favourable, many might be produced.
‘This requires [the] principle that the permanent variations
produced by confined breeding and changing circumstances
are continued and produced according to the adaptation of
such circumstance, and therefore that death of species is a
370 THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES
‘consequence (contrary to what would appear from America)
‘of non-adaptation of circumstances”
‘The first part of the next extract has a similar bearing.
‘The end of the passage is of much interest, as showing that
he had at this early date visions of the far-reaching character:
‘of the theory of evolution :—
“With belief of transmutation and geographical grouping,
we are led to endeavour to discover causes of change; the
manner of adaptation (wish of parents? ?), instinct and struct-
ure becomes full of speculation and lines of observation,
View of generation being condensation,* test of highest or-
ganisarion intelligible... . My theory would give zest to
recent and fossil comparative anatomy ; it would lead to the
study of instincts, heredity, and mind-heredity, whole [of]
metaphysics.
t would lead to closest examination of hybridity and
gencration, causes of change in order to know what we have
come from and to what we tend—to what circumstances
favour crossing and what prevents it—this, and direct exam-
ination of direct passages of structure in species, might lead
to laws of change, which would then be [the] main object of
study, to guide our speculations.” 4
The following two extracts have a similar interest ; the
second is especially interesting, as it contains the germ of
concluding sentence of the ‘Origin of Species ": | —
" Before the attraction of gravity discovered it might have
been said it was as great a difficulty to account.for the
movement of all [plancts] by one law, as to account for each
Separaje one; so to say that all mammalia were born from
11 imagine him to mean that each generation is “condensed toa
small cuinber of the best organized individuals,
+ "Origin of Species” (edit, ih ps 4902—"' There Ih a grandenr in this
view of life, with ils several powers, having been originally beeathed into
8 few forms or into one : and that whilst this planet has gone eyeling om
acconling to the Gxed kaw of gravity, from so simple m beginning endlexs
forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being
evolved."
NOTE-ROOK OF 1837. a7
‘one stock, and since distributed by such means as we can
recognise, may be thought to explain nothing.
“Astronomers might formerly have said that God fore-
ordered each planct to move in its particular destiny, In the
same manner God orders each animal created with certain
forms in certain countries, but bow much more simple and
sublime [a] power—let attraction act according to certain
law, sueh are inevitable consequences—let animals be cre-
ated, then by the fixed laws of generation, such will be their
successors.
“Let the powers of transportal be such, and so will be the
forms of one country to another—let geological changes go
at such a rate, so will be the number and distribution of the
species 1!”
‘he three next extracts are of miscellaneous interest -—
“When one sees nipple on man’s breast, one does not say
some use, bit sex not having been determined—so with use~
less wings under elytra of beetles—born from bectles with
wings, and modified—if simple creation merely, would have
‘been born without them,”
“Ta a decreasing population at any one moment fewer
closely related (few species of genera); ultimately few genera
(for otherwise the relationship would converge sooner), and
lastly, perhaps, some one single one. Will not this account
for the odd genera with few species which stand between
great groups, which we are bound to consider the increasing
ones?"
‘The last extract which I shall quote gives the germ of his
theory of the relation between alpine plants in various parts
of the world, in the publication of which he was forestalled
by E, Forbes (see vol. i. p. 72). He says, in the 1837 note-
book, that alpine plants, "formerly descended lower, there-
fore [they are] species of lower genera altered, or northern
plants.”
When we turn to the Sketch of his theory, written in 1844
(still therefore before the second edition of the ‘ Journal’ was
completed), we find an enormous advance made on the note-
972 THE GROWTH OP THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES”
book of 1837. The Sketch is in fact a surprisingly complete
presentation of the argument afterwards familiar to us in the
“Origin of Species." There is some obscurity as to the date
of the short Sketch which formed the basis of the 1854 Essay
We know from his own words (vol. i, p, 68), that it was in
June 1842 that he first wrote out a short sketch of his views.*
‘This statement is given with so much circumstance thar it
is almost impossible to suppose that it contains an gror of
date. It agrees also with the following extract from his
Diary.
4842, May 18th, Went to Maer.
“June 15th to Shrewsbury, and on 18th to Capel Carig,
During my stay at Maer and Shrewsbury (five years after
commencement) wrote pencil-sketch of species theory,”
Again in the introduction to the ‘ Origin,’ p. x, he writes,
“after an interval of five years’ work" [from 1837, £¢ im
1842], “I allowed myself to speculate on the subject, and
drew up some short notes."
Nevertheless in the letter signed by Sir C. Lyell and Sir
J. D. Hooker, which serves as an introduction to the joint
paper of Messrs. C. Darwin and A. Wallace on the *Tendeney
of Species to form Varieties,’¢ the essay of 1844 (extracts
from which form part of the paper) is said to have been
“sketched in 1839, and copied in 1844." This statement is
obviously made on the authority of a note written in my
father’s hand across the Table of Contents of the 1844 Essay,
It is to the following effect: *This was sketched in 1839,
and copied out in full, as here written and read by you im
4844." I conclude that this note was added in 2858, when
the MS, was sent to Sir J. D, Hooker (see Letter of June 29,
4858, p. 476), There is also some further evidence om this
side of the question, Writing to Mr. Wallace (Jan. 25, 1889)
“Every one whom I have seen has thought
anot find, and it was protably devteoyed, Tike 20
ad been enlarged and re-copied in sR
” HBSS, 45.
much of his MS after i
f "Linn, See Jou
“SKETCH OF 18uy 373
your paper very well written and interesting. It puts my
extracts (written in 1839, now just twenty years ago !), which
T must say in apology were never for an instant intended for
publication, into the shade.” The statement that the carlicat
sketch was written in 1839 has been frequently made in bio-
graphical notices of my father, no doubt on the authority of
the ‘Linnean Journal,’ but it must, 1 think, be considered as
erroneous, The error may possibly have arisen in this way.
In writing on the ‘Table of Contents of the 1844 MS, that it
was sketched in 18go, I think my father may have intended
to imply that the framework of the theory was clearly thought
out by him at that date. In the Autobiography (p. 72) he
speaks of the time, “about 1839, when the theory was clearly
conceived,” meaning, no doubt, the end of 1838 and begin
ning of 1839, when the reading of Malthus had given’him the
key to the idea of natural selection, But this explanation
does not apply to the letter to Mr. Wallace ; and with regard
to the passage* in the ‘Linnean Journal’ it is difficult to
understand how it should have been allowed to remain as it
now stands, conveying, as it clearly does, the impression that
1839 was the date of his earliest written sketch,
The sketch of 1844 is written in a clerk's hand, in two
hundred and thirty-one pages folio, blank leaves being alter-
nated with the MS, with a view to amplification, The text
has been revised and corrected, criticisms being pencilled by
himself on the margin. It is divided into two parts; I. “On
the variation of Organic Beings under Domestication and in
their Natural State.” 11, “On the Evidence favourable and
opposed to the view that Species are naturally formed races
descended from common Stocks." The first part contains
the main argument of the ‘Origin of Species,’ It is founded,
as is the argument of that work, on the study of domestic
animals, and both the Sketch and the ‘Origin’ open with a
** My father certainly saw the proofs of the paper, for he added a foots
note apologising for the style of the extracts, on the ground that the ** work
eas never intended for publication.”
$74 THE GROWTH OF TILE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECTIES®
chapter on variation under domestication and on artificial
selection. This is followed, in both essays, by discussions on
variation under nature, on natural selection, and on the
struggle for life. Here, any close resemblance between the
two essays with regard to arrangement ceases, Chapter TIT.
‘of the Sketch, which concludes the first part, treats of the
variations which occur in the instincts and habits of animals,
and thus corresponds to some extent with Chapter VIL. of
the “Origin” (1#t edit,), It thus forms a complement to the
chapters which deal with variation in structure. It seems to
have been placed thus early in the Essay to prevent the hasty
Tejection of the whole theory by a reader to whom the fda of
‘natural selection acting on instincts might seem impossible,
‘This is the more probable, as the Chapter on Instinct in the
*Origin’ is specially mentioned (Introduction, p. 5) as one of
the “most apparent and gravest difficulties on the theory.”*
Moreover the chapter in the Sketch ends with a discussion,
“whether any particular corporeal structures... . . are 80
wonderful as to justify the rejection primd facie of our the=
ory.” Under this heading comes the discussion of the eye,
which in the ‘Origin’ finds its place in Chapter VI. under
“ Difficulties of the Theory.” ‘The second part seems to have
been planned in accordance with his favourite point of view:
with regard to his theory. This is briefly given in a letter to.
Dr. Asa Gray, November t1th, 1859: “I cannot possibly be-
lieve that a false theory would explain so many classes of
facts, as 1 think it certainly docs explain, On these grounds
I drop my anchor, and believe that the difficulties will
slowly disappear.” On this principle, having stated the
theory in the first part, he proceeds to show to what ex-
tent various wide series of facts can be explained by its
means,
‘Thus the second part of the Sketch corresponds roughly
to the nine concluding Chapters of the First Edition of the
“Origin.” But we must exclude Chapter VIL. (* Origin’)
on Instinct, which forms a chapter in the first part of the
Sketch, and Chapter VIEL {' Origin "}on Hybridism, a subject
SKETCH OF 1844. 375
treated in the Sketch with ‘Variation under Nature‘ in the
first part.
‘The following list of the chapters of the second part of the
Sketch will illustrate their correspondence with the final
chapters of the ‘Origin.’
Chapter I. “On the kind of intermediateness necessary,
and the number of such intermediate forms.”
‘This includes a geological discussion, and corresponds ta
parts of Chapters VI. and IX, of the * Origin.”
Chapter II, “'The gradual appearance and disappearance
‘of organic Deings.” Corresponds to Chapter X, of the
* Origin.’
Chapter III, “Geographical Distribution.” Corresponds
to Chapters XL. and XII. of the ‘ Origin.”
Chapter IV, “Affinities and Classification of Organic
beings.”
Chapter V. “Unity of Type,” Morphology, Embryology.
Chapter VI. Rudimentary Organs,
‘These three chapters correspond to Chapter XII, of the
*Origin.*
Chapter VII. Recapitulation and Conclusion. The final
sentence of the Sketch, which we saw in its first rough form
in the Note Book of 1837, closely resembles the final sentence
of the “Origin,” much of it being identical, The ‘Origin’ is
not divided into two “ Parts,” but we see traces of such a
division having been present in the writer's mind, in this re-
semblance between the second part of the Sketch and the
final chapters of the ‘Ori ‘That he should speak * of the
chapters on transition, on instinct, on hybridism, and on the
geological record, as forming a group, may be due to the di-
vision of his early MS. into two parts.
Mr. Huxley, who was good enough to read the Sketch at
my request, while remarking that the ‘main lines of argu-
ment,” and the illustrations employed are the same, points
out that in the 1844 Essay, “much more weight is attached
* Origin, Introduetion, ps $.
376 THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIESS
to the influence of external conditions in prodwcing variation,
and to the inheritance of acquired habits than im the
“Origin,
It is extremely interesting to find in the Sketch the first
mention of principles familiar to us in the * Origin of Species”
Foremost among these may be mentioned the principle of
Sexual Selection, which is clearly enunciated. ‘The important
form of selection known as“ unconscious,” is also given. Here
also occurs a statement of the Jaw that peculiarities tend to
appear in the offspring at an age corresponding to that at
which they occurred in the parent.
Professor Newton, who was so kind as to look through
the 1844 Sketch, tells me that my father's remarks on the
migration of birds, incidentally given in more than one
passage, show that he had anticipated the views of some later
writers.
With regard to the general style of the Sketch, it is not to-
be expected that it shauld have all the characteristies of the
‘Origin,’ and we do not, in fact, find that balance and con-
trol, that concentration and grasp, which are so striking im
the work of 1859.
In the Autobiography (p. 68, vol. 1) my father has stated
what seemed to him the chief flaw of the 1844 Sketch; he
had overlooked “one problem of great importance,” the
problem of the divergence of character. This point is dis-
‘cussed in the ' Origin of Species,’ but, as it may not be familiar
to all readers, I will give a short account of the difficulty and
its solution, ‘The author begins by stating that varieties
differ from each other less than species, and then goes on:
“ Nevertheless, according to my view, varieties are species in
process of formation, , ... How then does the lesser dif
ference between yarieties become augmented into the greater
difference between species ?"* He shows how an analogous
divergence takex place under domestication where an origins
ally uniform stock of horses has been split up into race-horses,
* "Origin 1st edit. p. ext.
PRINCIPLE OF DIVERGENCE, * g77
dray-horses, &c., and then goes on to explain how the same
principle applies to natural species. “From the simple cir-
cumstance that the more diversified the descendants from any
‘one species become in structure, constitution, and habits, by
so much will they be better enabled to seize on many and
widely diversified places in the polity of nature, and so be
enabled to increase in numbers.”
“he principle is exemplified by the faet that if on one
plot of ground a single variety of wheat be sown, and on to
another a mixture of varieties, in the latter case the produce
is greater, More individuals have been able to exist because
they were not all of the same variety. An organism becomes
more perfect and more fitted to survive when by division of
labour the different functions of life are performed by differ-
‘ent organs In the same way a species becomes more efficient
and more able to survive when different sections of the species
become differentiated so as to fill different stations,
Tn reading the Sketch of 1844, | have found it difficult to
recognise the absence of any definite statement of the prins
ciple of divergence as a flaw in the Essay. Descent with
modification implies divergence, and we become so habituated
to a belief in descent, and therefore in divergence, that we do
not notice the absence of proof that divergence is in itself an
advantage. As shown in the Autobiography, my father in
#276 found it hardly credible that he should have overlooked
tne problem and its solution.
‘The following letter be more in place here than its
chronolugical position, since it shows what was my father’s
feeling as to the value of the Sketch at the time of its com-
pletion.)
C. Darwin to Mrs, Darwtn.
Down, July 5, 1844.
Thave just finished my sketch of my species theory. If,
‘as I believe, my theory in time be accepted even by one com-
petent judge, it will be a considerable step in science.
35
378 THE GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES”
I therefore write this in case of my eudden death, as my
most solemn and last request, which J am sare you will con-
sider the same as if legally entcred in my will, that you will
devote £400 to its publication, and further, will yourself, or
through Hensleigh,” take trouble in promoting it, I wish
that eay sketch be given to some competent person, with this
sum to induce him to take trouble in its improvemest and
enlargement. I give tohim all my books on Natural History,
which are either scored or have references at the end to the
pages, begging him carefully to look over and consider sech
passages as actually bearing, or by possibility bearing, on
this subject. I wish you to make a list of all such books as
some temptation to an editor, I also request that you will
hand over [to] him all those scraps roughly divided in eight
or ten brown paper portfolios. The scraps, with copied quota-
tions from various works, are those which may aid my editor,
T also request that-you, or some amanuensis, will aid in de-
ciphering any of the scraps which the editor may think possi-
bly of use, I leave to the editor’s judgment whether to in=
terpolate these facts im the text, or as notes, or under appen=
dices, As the looking over the references and seraps Will be
a long Inbour, and as the correcting and enlarging and altering
my sketch will also take considerable time, 1 leave this sem of
(L4ee as some remuneration, and any profits from the works
i consider that for this the editor is bound to get the sketch
published either at a publisher's or his own risk. Many of
the serap in the portfolios contains mere rude suggestions and
early views, now useless, and many of the facts will probably
turn out as having no bearing on my theory.
With respect to editors, Mr. Lyell would be the best if he
would undertake it; 1 believe he would find the work pleas
ant, and he would learn some facts new to him. As the ed>
itor must be a geologist as well as a nataralist, the next best
editor would be Professor Forbes of London. The next best
(and quite best in many respects) would be Professor Hens
Mr H, Wedgwood,
SKETCH OF 1844 379
tow, Dr, Hooker would be very good. The next, Mr, Strick-
Jand.* If none of these would undertake it, would request
you to consult with Mr, Lyell, or some other capable man for
same editor, a geologist and naturalist. Should one other
hundred pounds make the difference of procuring a good
editor, request earnestly that you will raise £500,
‘My remaining collections in Natural History may be given
to any one or any museum where it would be accepted. . . .
[The following note scems to have formed part of the
original letter, but may have been of later date :
“ Lyell, especially with the aid of Hooker (and of any good
zoological aid), would be best of all. Without an editor will
pledge himself to give up time to it, it would be of no use
paying such a sum.
“If there should be any difficulty in getting an editor who
would go thoroughly into the subject, and think of the bear
ing of the passages marked in the books and copied out of
scraps of paper, then let my sketch be published as it is
stating that it was done several years ago + and from memory
without consulting any works, and with no intention of pubs
lication in its present form.”
‘The idea that the Sketch of 1844 might remain, in the
event of his death, as the only record of his work, seems to
have been Tong in his mind, for in August 1854, when he had.
finished with the Cirripedes, and was thinking of beginning
his “ species work,” he added on the back of the above letter,
“ Hooker by far best man to edit my species volume. August
1854.""]
+ Afler Mr, Strickland’s name comes the following sentence, which has
been erased but remained legible. “Profesor Owen would be very good ;
Dut T presume he would not undertake such a work.”
¢ The words “several years ago and,” secm to have been added at a
later date,
CHAPTER XI.
TRE GROWTH OF THR ‘ORIGIN OF SPRCIRR"
LuTTEMs, 1843-1856.
[Tite history of my father’s life is told more completely
in his correspondence with Sir J.D. Hooker than in any other
series of letters ; and this is especially true of the history of
the growth of the ‘Origin of Species.” ‘This, therefore, seems
an appropriate place for the following notes, which Sir Joseph
Hooker has kindly given me. They give, moreover, am ins
teresting picture of bis carly friendship with my father —
“My first meeting with Mr. Darwin was in 1839, in ‘Tra-
falgar Square, Twas walking with an officer who had been
his shipmate for a short time in the Seagée seven years be-
fore, but who had not, ! believe, since met him, 1 was intro-
duced ; the interview was of course brief, and the memory of
him that I carried away and still retain was that of a rather
tall and rather broad-shouldered man, with a
an agreeable and animated expression when talking,
brows, and a hollow but mellow voic
of his old acquaintance was sailor
frank and cordial, 1 observed him well, for 1 was already
aware of his attainments and labours, derived from having
read various proof-sheets of his then unpublished ‘ Journal.”
‘These had been submitted to Mr, (afterwards Sir Charles)
Lyell by Mr. Darwin, and by him sent to his father, Ch, Lyell,
Esq, of Kinnordy, who (being a very old friend of my father,
and taking a kind interest in my projected career as a natu-
383.) SIR J. D. HOOKER’S REMINISCENCES. 380
ralist) had allowed me to peruse them. At this time I wag
hurrying on my studies, 50 a8 to take my degree before volun.
tering to accompany Sir James Ross in the Antarctic Expe-
dition, which bad just been determined on by the Admiralty;
and so pressed for time was I, that T used to sleep with the
sheets of the ‘Journal’ under my pillow, that T might read
them between waking and rising. They impressed me pro-
foundly, I might say despairingly, with the variety of acquire.
ments, mental and physical, required in a naturalist who
should follow in Darwin's footsteps, whilst they stimulated me
to enthusiasm in the desire to travel and observe.
“Tt has been a permanent source of happiness to me
that I knew so much of Mr. Darwin’s scientific work so many
years before that intimacy began which ripened into feelings
as near to those of reverence for his life, works, and char-
acter ag is reasonable and proper, It only remains to add
tw this little episode that I received a copy of the ‘Journal’
complete,—a gift from Mr. Lyell,—a few days before leaving
England,
“ Very soon after the return of the Antarctic Expedition
my correspondence with Mr. Darwin began (December, 1843)
by his sending me a long letter, warmly congratulating me on
my return to my family and friends, and expressing a wish to
hear more of the results of the expedition, of which he had
derived some knowledge from private letters of my own
(written to or communicated through Mr, Lyell), Then,
plunging at once into scientific matters, he directed my atten-
tion to the importance of correlating the Fuegian Flora with
that of the Cordillera and of Europe, and invited me to study
the botanical collections which he had made in the Galapagos
Islands, as well as his Patagonian and Fuegian plants
“This led tome sending him an outline of the conclusions
T had formed regarding the distribution of plants in the
southern regions, and the necessity of assuming the destruce
tion of considerable areas of land to account for the relations
‘of the flora of the so-called Antarctic Islands. Tf do not sup-
pose that any of these ideas were new to him, but they led
to an animated and lengthy correspondence full of
tion.
Here follows the letter (1843) to Sir J. D. Tooker above
referred to.]
My DEAR Strj—t had hoped before this time to have had
the pleasure of seeing you and congratulating you on your:
safe return from your long and glorious voyage. But as I
seldom go to London, we may not yet mect for some time—
without you are led to attend the Geological Meetings.
Tam anxious to know what you intend doing with all your
materials—I had so much pleasure in reading parts of some
‘of your letters, that I shall be very sorry Hf I, a8 one of the
public, have no opportunity of reading a good deal more,
T suppose you are very busy now and full of enjoyment:
how well I remember the happiness of my first few months
‘of England—it was worth all the discomforts of many a gale!
But 1 have run from the subject, which made me write, of
expressing my pleasure that Henslow (as he informed me
afew days since by letter) has sent to you my small collec~
tion of plants. You cannot think how much pleased I am,
as T feared they would have been all lost, and few as they are,
they cost me a good deal of trouble. ‘There are a very few
notes, which I believe Henslow has got, describing the
habitats, &c., of some few of the more remarkable plants,
J paid particular attention to the Alpine flowers of Tierra del
Fuego, and J am sure I got every plant which was in flower
in Patagonia at the seasons when we were there. T have long
thought that some general sketch of the Flora of the point of
land, stretching so far into the southern seas, would be very
curious, Do make comparative remarks on the species allied
to the European species, for the advantage of botanical igno-
ramuses like myself. It has often struck me as a curious
point to find out, whether there are many European genera
in T. det Fuego which are not found along the ridge of the
Cordillera; the separation in such case would be so enormous.
Do point out in any sketch you draw up, what genera are
sh al
an) GALAPAGOS FLORA, 383.
American and what European, and how great the differences
of the species are, when the genera are European, for the
sake of the ignoramuses.
T hope Henslow will send you my Galapagos plants (about
which Humboldt even expressed to me considerable curiosity)
—I took much pains in collecting all I could. A Flora of
this archipelago would, I suspect, offer a nearly parallel case
to that of St. Helena, wl has sp long excited interest,
Pray excuse this long rambling note, and believe me, my dear
sir, yours very sincerely, C. Darwin.
Will you be so good as to present my respectful compli-
ments to Sir W. Hooker.
[Referring to Sir J. D. Hooker's work on the Galapagos
Flora, my father wrote in 1846 :
“Teannot tell you how delighted and astonished I am at
the results of your examination; how wonderfully they sup-
port my assertion on the differences in the animals of the
different islands, about which I have always been fearful”
Again he wrote (1849) :—
“I received a few wecks ago your Galapagos papers,* and
Thave read them since being here. I really cannot express
too strongly my admiration of the geographical discussion :
to my judgment it is a perfect model of what such a paper
should be; took me four days to read and think over,
How interesting the Flora of the Sandwich Islands appears
to be, how I wish there were materials for you to treat its
flora as you have done the Galapagos. In the Systematic
paper I was rather disappointed in not finding general remarks
on affinities, structures, &c., such as you often give in con-
yersation, and such as De Candolle and St. Hilaire introduced
"These papers include the results of Sir J. D. Hooker's evamination
of my father's Galapagos plants, and were published by the Linnean
Society in 1849,
fo almoyt all their papers, and which make thes
even to a non-Botantist.""
“Very soon afterwards [continues Sir J. D,
letter dated January 2844, the subject of the * noel ae
cics' was beosght forward by him, aod I believe that I was
the first to whom he communicated his then new ideas on the
subject, and which being of interest as a contribution to the
history of Evolution, I bere copy from his letter” —]
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
[January vith, e846)
Besides a general interest about the sowthern lands, I have
been now ever since my return engaged in a very presump-
tuous work, and I know no one individual who would not
say @ very foolish one, I was so struck with the distri«
‘Dution of the Galapagos organisms, &c. &e,, and with the
character of the American fossil mammifers, &c, &c., that I
determined to collect blindly every sort of fact, which could
‘Dear any way on what are species, I have read heaps of
agricultural and horticultural books, and have never ceased
collecting facts. At last gleams of light have come, and Iam
almost convinced (quite contrary to the opinion. I started
with) that species are not (it is like confessing a murder)
immutable. Heaven forfend me from Lamarck nonsense of
a “tendency to progression,” “adaptations from the slow
willing of animals," &e.! But the conclusions I am Jed to are
not widely different from his; though the means of change
are wholly so, T think I have found out (here's presump-
tion !) the simple way by which apecies became exquisitely
adapted to various ends. You will now groan, and think to
yourself, “on what a man have I been wasting my time
‘and writing to" I should, five years ago, have thought
“as
[The following letter written on February 23, 1844, shows
that the acquaintanceship with Sir J. D, Hooker was then
1845) GALAPAGOS FLORA. 385
fast ripening into friendship. The letter is chiefly of interest
as showing the sort of problems then occupying my father's
mind:]
Dan Hooxex,—I hope you will excuse the freedom of
my address, but I feel that as co-circum-wanderers and as
fellow labourers (though myself a very weak one) we may
throw aside some of the old-world formality. .
finished a little volume an the voleanic
visited. I do not know how far you care for dry simple
geology, but I hope you will let me send you a copy. T
suppose I can send it from London by common coach con
‘yeyance.
. .. Tam going to ask you some sore questions, though I
daresay, without asking them, 1 shall see answers in your
‘work, when published, which will be quite time enough for
my purposes. First for the Galapagos, you will see in my
Journal, that the Birds, though peculiar species, have a most
obvious S. American aspect: I have just ascertained the
same thing holds good with the seashells, It is so with
those plants which are peculiar to this archipelago ; you state
that their numerical proportions are continental (is not this a
‘very curious fact?) but are they related in forms to S. Amer-
ica. Do you know of any other case of an archipelago, with
the separate islands possessing distinct representative species?
Thave always intended (but have not yet done 50) to examine
Webb and Berthelot on the Canary Islands for this object.
‘Talking with Mr. Bentham, he told me that the separate
islands of the Sandwich Archipelago possessed distinct repre-
sentative species of the same genera of Labiatw ; would not
this be worth your enquiry? How is it with the Azores; to
be sure the heavy western gales would tend to diffuse the
‘same species over that group.
Lhope you will (I dare say my hope is quite superfluous)
attend to this general kind of affinity in isolated islands,
though I suppose it is more difficult to perceive this sort of
Telation in plants, than in birds or quadrupeds, the groups of
which are, I fancy, rather more confined. Can St. Helena’
classed, though remotely, either with Africa or S, America?”
From some facts, which 1 have collected, I have been led to
conclude that the fauna of mountains are either remarkably
similar (sometimes in the presence of the same species and at
other times of same genera), or that they are remarkably dis-
ilar; and it has occurred to me that possibly part of this
peculiarity of the St. Helena and Galapagos floras may be
‘attributed to a great part of these two Floras being moun-
tain Floras. I fear my notes will hardly serve to distingui
much of the habitats of the Galapagos plants, but they may
in some eases; most, if not all, of the green, leafy plants
come from the summits of the islands, and the thin brown
leafless plants come from the lower arid parts: would you be
so kind as to bear this remark in mind, when examining my
collection,
Twill trouble you with only one other question, In dis
cussion with Mr. Gould, I found that in most of the genera
‘of birds which range over the whole or greater part of the
world, the individual species have wider ranges, thus the Owl
is mundane, and. many of the species have very wide ranges.
‘So I believe it is with land and fresh-water shells—and I
might adduce other cases, Is it not so with vi
plants ; have not most of the species wide ranges, in those
genera which are mundane? 1 do not suppose that the
converse holds, viz—that when a species has a wide range,
its genus also ranges wide. Will you so far oblige me by
oceasionally thinking over this? It would cost me vast
trouble to get a list of mundane phanerogamic genera and
then search how far the species of these genera are apt to
range wide in their several countries; but you might ooea-
sionally, in the course of your pursuits, just bear this in mind,
though perhaps the point may long since have occurred to
you or other Botanists, Geology is bringing to light interest
ing facts, concerning the ranges of shells; I think it is pretty
well established, that according as the geographical range of
a species is wide, so is its persistence and duration in time. I
844] SIR J, D. HOOKER'S REMINISCENCES, 387
hope you will try to grudge as little as you can the trouble of
my letters, and pray believe me very truly yours,
C. Dakwin.
P., Ishould feel extremely obliged for your kind offer
of the sketch of Humboldt; I venerate him, and after having
had the pleasure of conversing with him in London, 1 shall
still more like to have any portrait of him.
{What follows is quoted from Sir J. Hooker's notes.
“The next act in the drama of our lives opens with per
sonal intercourse, This began with an invitation to breakfast
with him at bis brother's (Erasmus Darwin's) house in Park
Street ; which was shortly afterwards followed by an invita
tion to Down to meet a few brother Naturalists, In the short
intervals of good health that followed the long illnesses which
oftentimes rendered life a burthen to him, between #844 and
1847, Thad many such invitations, and delightful they were,
A more hospitable and more attractive home under every
point of view could not be imagined—of Society there were
most often Dr. Falconer, Edward Forbes, Professor Bell, and
Mr. Waterhouse—there were Jang walks, romps with the
children on hands and knees, music that huunts me still
Darwin's own hearty manner, hollow laugh, and thorough
enjoyment of home life with friends; strolls with him all
together, and interviews with us one by one in his study, to
discuss questions in any branch of biological or physical
knowledge that we had followed; and which I at any rate
always left with the feeling that 1 had imparted nothing and
carried away more than I could stagger under, Latterly, as
his health became more seriously affected, I was for days and
weeks the only visitor, bringing my work with me and enjoy-
ing his society as opportunity offered, Te was an established
rule that he every day pumped me, as he called it, for half
an hour or so after breakfast in his study, when he first
brought out a heap of slips with questions botanical, geo~
graphical, &c,, for me to answer, and concluded by telling
me of the progress he had made in his 0 0
‘no more of him
name under my window—this wes to jom him in his
forenoon round the sand-walk* On joining }
a rougn grey shooting-coat in summer,
thick cape over his shoulders in winter, and a stout staff
his hand; away we trudged through the garden, where th
‘was always some experiment to visit, and on to the
walk, round which a fixed number of turns were taken, dierit
which our conversation usually ran on foreign lands and
‘old friends, old books, and things far off to both mind
eye.
if not, he generally managed to appear in the ‘vn
where seated in his high chair, with his feet in enormous:
pet shoes, supported ona high stool—he enjoyed the
or conversation of his family."
Here follows a series of letters illustrating the growth of
my father's views, and the nature of his work during this
period]
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down [rea}.
. The conclusion, which I have come at is, that those
areas, in which species are most numerous, have oftenest been
divided and isolated from other areas, united and again di
vided ; a process implying antiquity and some changes in the
external conditions. This will justly sound very hypothetical,
T cannot give my reasons in detail; but the most general con
clusion, which the geographical distribution of all
beings, appears to me to indicate, is that isolation is the chief
concomitant or cause of the appearance of mew forms (I well
* See P93
aE i
BH) MUTABILITY OF SPECIES. 389
know there are some staring exceptions). Secondly, from
secing how often the plants and animals swarm in a country,
when introduced into it, and from seeing what a vast number
of plants will live, for instance in England, if kept free from
seceds, and native plants, have been led to consider that the
spreading and number of the organic beings of any country
depend less on its external features, than on the number of
forms, which have been there originally created or produced.
I much doubt whether you will find it possible to explain
the number of forms by proportional differences of exposure;
and I cannot doubt if half the species in any country were
destroyed or had not been created, yet that country would
appear to us fully peopled. With respect to original creation
or production of new forms, I have said that isolation appears
the chief element, Hence, with respect to terrestrial pro-
ductions, a tract of country, which had oftenest within the
late geological periods subsided and been converted into
islands, and reunited, 1 should expect to contain most forms,
But such speculations are amusing only to one self, and
in this case useless, as they do not show any direct line of
observation: if I had seen how hypothetical [is] the little,
which 1 have unclearly written, I would not have troubled
you with the reading of it. Believe me—at last not hypo-
thetically, Yours very sincerely,
C. Darwe.
© Darwin to {. D. Hooker.
‘Down, 1844.
. «I forget my last letter, but it must have been a very
silly one, as it seems I gave my notion of the number of
species being in great degree governed by the degree to
which the area had been often isolated and divided ; I must
have been cracked to have written it, for I have no eviclence,
without a person be willing to admit all my views, and then
it does follow; but in my most sanguine moments, all I
expect, is that I shall be able to show even to sound Natu-
ralists, that there are two sides to the question of the immu-
390 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN.’ tim.
tability of species ;—that facts can be viewed and grouped
under the notion of allied species having descended from
common stocks. With respect to books on this subject T
do not know of any systematical ones, except Lamarck’s,
which is veritable rubbish; but there are plenty, as Lyell,
Pritchard, &c., on the view of the immutability. Agassiz
lately has brought the strongest argument in favour of immu-
tability, Isidore G. St, Hilaire has written some good Essays,
tending towards the mutability-side, in the ‘ Suites & Buffon,”
entitled “ Zoolog. Générale,” Is it not strange that the author,
‘of such a book as the * Animaux sans Vertébres,' should have
written that insects, which never sec their eggs, should sei
(and plants, their seeds) to be of particular forms, so as to
become attached to particular objects. “The other, common
{specially Germanic) notion is hardly less absurd, viz, thar
climate, food, &c., should make a Pediculus formed to climb
hair, or wood-pecker, to climb trees. I believe alll these
absurd views arise, from no one having, aa far as I know,
approached the subject on the side of variation under domes-
tication, and having studied all that is known about domesti-
cation. 1 was very glad to hear your criticism on island-floras
and on non-diffusion of plants: the subject is too long for a
letter: I could defend myself to some considerable extent,
hut I doubt whether successfully in your eyes, or indeed fn
my own...
C, Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down (Joly, 1844).
-.. Tam now reading a wonderful book for facts on
variationBronn, ‘Geschichte der Natur,’ It is stiff German :
it forestalls me, sometimes I think delightfully, and some=
times cruelly. You will be ten times hereafter more horrified
at me than at H. Watson. I hate arguments from results,
but on my views of descent, really Natural History becomes
a sublimely grand result-giving subject (now you may quiz
me for so foolish an escape of mouth). . I enuet leave thie
1848.] MUTABILITY OF SPECIES. 391
letter till to-morrow, for T am tired ; but I so enjoy writing
to you, that I must inflict a little more on you.
Have you any good evidence for absence of insects in
small islands? 1 found thirteen species in Keeling Atoll,
Flies are good fertilizers, and I have seen a microscopic Thrips
and a Cecidomya take flight from a flower in the direction of
another with pollen adhering to them. In Arctic countei
bee seems to go as far N. as any flower... .
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
Shrewsbury [September, 184s).
My pear Hooxer,—tI write a line to say that Cosmos *
arriyed quite safely [N.B. One sheet came loose in Pt. 1.],
and to thank you for your nice note. I have just begun the
introduction, and groan over the style, which in such parts is
full half the battle. How true many of the remarks are (/. ¢,
as far as I can understand the wretched English) on the
scenery; it is an exact expression of one’s own.thoughts.
I wish 1 ever had any books to Jend you in return for the
many you have lent me,
All of what you kindly say about my species work does
not alter one iotn my long self-ucknowledged presumption in
accumulating facts and speculating on the subject of varia~
tion, without having worked out my due share of species, But
now for nine years it has been anyhow the greatest amuse~
ment to me.
Farewell, my dear Hooker, I grieve more than you can
well believe, over our prospect of so seldom meeting.
Thave never perceived but one fault in you, and that you
have grievously, viz. modesty ; you form an exception to
Sydney Smith's aphorism, that merit and modesty have no
other connection, except in their first letter. Farewell,
C, Darwin,
* A translation of Hlumboldt’s * Kounos!
392 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN? (us
C. Darwin to L, Jenynt (Blomefiedd).
Down, Oct, eath, [2845],
My pear Jenyns,—Thanks for your note. Iam sorry to
say Thave not even the tail-end of a fact in English Zoology
to communicate. I have found that even trifling observations
require, in my case, some leisure and energy, both of which
ingredients 1 have had none to spare, as writing my Geology
thoroughly expends both. I had always thought that I would
keep a journal and record everything, but in the way I now
live I find T observe nothing to record, . Looking after my
garden and trees, and occasionally a very litte walk in an
idle frame of mind, fills up every afternoon im the same man-
ner. I am surprised that with all your parish affairs, you have
had time to do all that which you have done, 1 shall be very
glad to sce your little work * (and proud should I have been
if I could have added a single fact to it), My work on the
species question has impressed me very forcibly with the
importance of all such works as your intended one, contai
ing what people are pleased generally to call trifling facts,
‘These are the facts which make one understand the working
or economy of nature, ‘There is one subject, on which Tam
very curious, and which perhaps you may throw some light
‘on, if you have ever thought on it; namely, what are the
checks and what the periods of life—by which the increase
of any given species is limited, Just calculate the increase
of any bird, if you assume that only half the young are reared,
and these breed: within the matwral (j. ¢., if free from acci«
dents) life of the parents the number of individuals will be-
come enormous, and I haye been much surprised to think
how great destruction ss? annually or occasionally be falling
tural History.’ 11 bs prefaced byan
Introduction on "Habits of observing s» connected with the study of
jaral Hivory,” and followed by a" Calendar of Periodic Phenomens in
Natural History,” with * Remarks on the importance of such Registers”
My father seems to be alluding to this Register in the FS to the leter
aed Oct. 17, 1846,
1845.) STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. 303
on every species, yet the-means and period of such destruc»
tion is scarcely perceived by us.
L have continued steadily reading and collecting facts on
variation of domestic animals and plants, and on the question
of what are species. 1 have a grand body of facts, and I
think I can draw some sound conclusions, The general con-
clusions at which I have slowly been driven from a directly
‘opposite conviction, is that species are mutable, and that
allied species are co-descendants from common stocks. I
know how much I open myself to reproach for such a con-
clusion, but I have at least honestly and deliberately come to
it, I shall not publish on this subject for several years, At
present I amon the Geology of South America, 1 hope to
pick up from your book some facts on slight variations in
structure or instincts in the animals of your acquaintance.
Believe me, ever yours,
C. Danwin.
©. Darwin to L. Jenyns®
Down, [1845 7}.
My pear Jenyxs—I am very much obliged to you for
the trouble you have taken in having written me so long
a note, The question of where, when, and how the check
to the increase of a given species falls appears to me par
ticularly interesting, and our difficulty in answering it shows
how really ignorant we ate of the lives and habits of our most
familiar species, I was aware of the bare fact of old birds
driving away their young, but had never thought of the effect
you so clearly point out, of local gaps in number being thus
immediately filled up. But the original difficulty remains:
for if your farmers had not killed your sparrows and rooks,
what would have become of those which now immigrate into
your parish? in the middle of England one is too far distant
from the natural limits of the rook and sparrow to suppose
* Rey, L, Blomefield,
304 GROWTH OF THE “ORIGIN,” bias.
that the young are thus far expelled from Cambridgeshire.
‘The check must fall heavily at some time of each species’ life ;
for, if one calculates that only half the progeny are reared
and bred, how enormons is the inerease! One has, however,
no business to feel so much surprise at one’s ignorance, when
one knows how impossible it is without statistics to come
jectuze the duration of life and percentage of deaths to births:
in mankind. If it could be shown that apparently the birds
of passage anbich breed Acre and increase, return in the suce
ceeding years in about the same number, whereas those that
come here for their winter and non-broeding season annually,
come here with the same numbers, but return with greatly
decreased numbers, one would know (as indeed seems
probable) that the check fell chiefly on full-grown birds
in the winter season, and not on the eggs and very young
birds, which has appeared to me often the most probable
period. If at any time any remarks on this subject should
occur to you, T should be most grateful for the benefit of
them,
With respect to my far distant work on species, I must
have expressed myself with singular inaccuracy if I led you
to suppose that I meant to say that my conefusions were
inevitable. ‘They have become sa, after years of weighing
puzzles, to myself aloue; but in my wildest day-dream, I
never expect more than to be able to show that there are two
sides to. the question of the immutability of species, 4, «,
whether species are dirertly created or by intermediate laws (as
with the life and death of individuals). 1 did not approach
the subject on the side of the difficulty in determining whar
are species and what are varicties, but (though, why I should
give you such a history of my doings it would be hard to say)
{rom such facts as the relationship between the living and
extinct mammifers is South America, and between those liv»
fing on the Continent and on adjoining islands, such as the
Galapagos, It cecurred to me that a collection of all
analogous facts would throw light either for or against the
view of related species being co-descendants from a common
1846.) ‘MR. JENYNS’ ‘OBSERVATIONS! 305
stock, A long searching amongst agricultural and horticult-
ural books and people makes me believe (I well know how
absurdly presumptuous this must appear) that T see the way
in which new varieties become exquisitely adapted to the
external conditions of life and to other surrounding, beings.
Yam a bold man to lay myself open to being thought a com-
plete fool, and a most deliberate one, From the nature of
the grounds which make me believe that species are mutable
in form, these grounds cannot be restricted to the closest-
allied species ; but how far they extend I cannot tell, as my
reasons fall away by degrees, when applied to species more
and more remote from each other. Pray do not think that I
‘am so blind as not to see that there are numerous immense
difficulties in my notions, but they appear to me less than on
the common view. I have drawn up a sketch and had it
copied (in 200 pages) of my conclusions; and if I thought at
some future time that you would think it worth reading, T
should, of course, be most thankful to have the criticism of
80 competent a critic. Excuse this very long and egotistical
and ill-written letter, which by your remarks you had led me
and believe me, Yours very truly,
C. Danwix,
C, Darwin to E. Jenyns,
Down, Oct. 27th, 1846.
Dear Jexves—I have taken a most ungrateful length
of time in thanking you for your very kind present of your
“Observations.’ But I happened to have had in hand several
other books, and have finished yours only a few days ago. T
found it very pleasant reading, and many of your facts inter-
ested me much. I think I was more interested, which is odd,
with your notes on some of the lower animals than on the
higher ones. ‘The introduction stack me as very good ; but
this is what I expected, for I well remember being quite de-
lighted with a preliminary essay to the first mumber of the
“Annals of Natural History.’ I missed one discussion, and
306 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGINS [s,
think myself ill-used, for f cemember your saying you would
make some remarks on the weather and barometer, as guide
for the ignorant in prediction. I had also hoped to have
perhaps met with some remarks on the amoust of variation fn
‘our common species. Andrew Smith once declared he would
get some hundreds of specimens of larks and sparrows from
all parts of Great Britain, and see whether, with finest meas
urements, he could detect any proportional variations in beaks
or limbs, &e. ‘This point interests me from having lately
been skimming over the absurdly opposite conclusions of
Gloger and Brohm; the one making half-a-dozen species out
of every common bird, and the other turning so many r=
puted species into one. Have you ever done anything of this
kind, or have you ever studied Gloger’s or Brebm's works?
Twas interested in your account of the martins, for [had just
before been utterly perplexed by noticing just such a pro-
ceeding as you describe: I counted seven, one day lately,
visiting a single nest and sticking dirt on the adjoining wal
I may mention that 1 once saw some squirrels eagerly splitting
those little semi-transparent spherical galls on the back of oake
leaves for the maggot within ; so that they are insectivorous,
A Gychrus rostratus once squirted into my eyes and gave me
extreme pain ; and T must tell you what happened to me on
the banks of the Cam, in my carly entomological days: under
a piece of bark I found two Carabi (I forget which), and
caught one in each hand, when lo and behold I saw a sacred
Fanageens crux major! V could not bear to give up either of
my Carati, and to lose Panayuens was out of the question; $e
that in despair I gently seized one of the Cara between my
teeth, when to my unspeakable disgust and pain the Bittle {n=
considerate beast squirted his acid down my throat, and T lost
both Coral and Panagwus! 1 was quite astonished to hear
of a terrestrial Piwarta » for about a year or two ago I de
scribed in the ' Annals of Natural History ’ several beautifully
coloured terrestrial species of the Southers Hemisphere, and
thought it quite a new fact. By the way, you speak of a
sheep with a broken leg not having flukes: I have heard my
3845.) VARIABILITY. 397
father aver that a fever, or any serious accident, as 0 broken
limb, will cause in aman all the intestinal worms to be evacus
ated. Might not this possibly have been the case with the
Wukes in their early state?
T hope you were none the worse for Southampton ;* I wish
T had seen you looking rather fatter. 1 enjoyed my week
extremely, and it did me good. I missed you the last few
days, and we never managed to see much of each ather; but
there were so many people there, that I for one hardly saw
anything of any one. Once again I thank you very cordially
for your kind present, and the pleasure it has given me, and
believe me, Eyer most truly yours,
C. Darwex,
P.S.—I have quite forgotten to say how greatly interested
I was with your discussion on the statistics of animals: when
will Natural History be so perfect that such points as you
discuss will be perfectly known about any one animal?
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Malvern, June 13 [1849].
~ =. At last Tam going to press with a small poor first-
fruit of my confounded Cirripedia, viz, the fossil pedunculate
cirripedia, You ask what effect studying species has had on
my variation theories; I do not think much—I have felt
some difficulties more. On the other hand, T have been
struck (and probably wafairly from the elass) with the varia-
bility of every part in some slight degree of every species.
When the same organ is rigorously compared in many inili-
viduals, I always find some slight variability, and conse-
‘quently that the diagnosis of species from minute differences
is always dangerous. 1 had thought the same parts of the
same species more resemble (than they do anyhow in Cirri-
pedia) objects cast in the same mould, Systematic work
© The meeting of the British Awociation,
398 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN. {ree
would be easy were it not for this confounded variation,
which, however, is pleasant to me as a speculatist, though
odiows to me asa systematist. Your remarks on the dite
tinetness (so unpleasant to mc) of the Himalayan Rabi, wil
lows, &c., compared with those of northern [Europe?], &e.,
are very interesting ; if my rude species-sketch had any small
share in leading you to these observations, it has already
done good and. ample service, and may lay its bones in the
carth in peace. [never heard anything so strange as Ful-
coner’s neglect of your letters; Iain extremely glad you are
cordial with him again, though it must have cost you ati
effort, Falconer is a man one must Jove. . . . May you pros
per in every way, my dear Hooker.
Your affectionate friend,
C. Danwtx.
©. Darwin to J, D. Hooker,
Down, Wednesday [September, n.d].
..« Many thanks for your letter received yesterday,
which, as always, set me thinking: I laughed at your attack
at my stinginess in changes of level towards Forbes,* being
so liberal towards myself; but T must maintain, that T have
never let down or upheaved our mothcr-earth’s surface, for
the sake of explaining any one phenomenon, and I trust T
have very seldom done so without some distinct evidence,
So I must still think it a bold step (perhaps a very true one)
* Edward Forbes, tom In the Isle of Man 1815, died 1854. His best
keown work was his Report on the distribution of marine anicnals at dife
feeent depths in the Mediterranean. An important memoir of hit is te
ferred to in my father's * Autobiography,” p. 72. He held saccewvely the
sof Curator to the Geological Scclety's Museum, aod Profenar of
Natural History in the Museum of Practical Geology ; shortly before be
died he was appointed Profesor of Natural History in the University of
Edinburgh. He seems to hare impressed his contemporaries as a man of
tile and vigorous mini, The above allusion to changes of
level refers to Forbos's tendency to explain the facts of geogrephical dine
tuitution by means of an active geological imagination,
rhyg.J LAMARCK, THE * VESTIGES” 309
to sink into the depths of ocean, within the period of existing
species, so large a tract of surface. But there is no amount
or extent of change of level, which T am not fully prepared
to admit, but T must say I should like better evidence, than
the identity of a few plants, which possibly (I do not say
probably) might have been otherwise transported. Particu-
lar thanks for your attempt to get me a copy of ‘ L'Espéce,’*
and almost equal thanks for your criticisms on him ; 1 rather
misdoubted him, and felt not much inclined to take as gospel
his facts. 1 find this one of my greatest difficulties with
foreign authors, viz. judging of their credibility, How pain-
fully (to me) true is your remark, that no-one has hardly a
right to examine the question of species who has not minutely
described many. 1 was, however, pleased to hear from Owen
(who is vehemently opposed to any mutability in species),
that he thought it was a very fair subject, and that there was
‘mass of facts to be brought to bear on the question, not
hitherto collected. My only comfort is (as T mean to attempt
the subject), that I have dabbled in several branches of Natu~
ral History, and seen good specific men work out my species,
and know something of geology (an indispensable union);
and though I shall get more kicks than half-pennies, T will,
ife serving, attempt my work. Lamarck is the only excep-
tion, that I can think of, of an accurate describer of species
at least in the Invertebrate Kingdom, who has disbelieved in
permanent species, but he in his absurd though clever work
has done the subject harm, as has Mr, Vestiges, and, as (some
future loose naturalist attempting the same speculations will
perhaps say) has Mr. D.. . -
C. Darwin,
* Probably Godron's essay, published by the Academy of Nancy in
1848-49, and afterwards as a separate book in 18§9.
400 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN’
©. Darwin to J.D. Hooker.
Down, September 2gch (1853).
My peak Hooxer,—I have read your paper with great
it seems all very clear, and will form an admirable
introduction to the New Zealand Flora, or to any Flora in the
world. How few generalizers there are among systematists >
1 really suspect there is something absolutely opposed to each
other and hostile in the two frames of mind required for
systematising and reasoning on large collections of facts,
Many of your arguments appear to me very well pot, and,
as far as my expetience goes, the candid way in which you
discuss the subject is unique. The whole will be very use~
ful to me whenever I undertake my volume, though parts take
the wind very completely out of my sails; it will be all nuts
tome . . . for have for some time determined to give the
arguments on oti sides (as far as I could), instead of arguing
‘on the mutability side alone,
In my own Cirripedial work (by the way, thank you for
the dose of soft solder; it does onc—or at least me—a great
deal of good)—in my own work I have not felt conscious
that disbelieving in the mere permanence of species has made
much difference one way or the other; in some few cases (if
publishing avowedly on doctrine of non-permanence), I
should mof have affixed names, and in some few cases
should have affixed names to remarkable varieties, Cer=
tainly I have felt it humiliating, discussing and doubting,
and examining over and over again, when in my own mind
the only doubt hax been whether the form varied Amday or
yeiterday (not to put too fine a point on it, a8 Snagsby * would
say). After describing a set of forms as distinct species,
tearing up my MS., and making them one speciss, tearing that
up and making them separate, and then making them one
again (which has hanpened to me), I have gsashed my teeth,
cursed species, and asked what sin I had committed to be
* In *Bleak House!
1853.) NEW ZEALAND FLORA. 40
0 punished. But I must confess that perhaps nearly the
same thing would have happened to me on any scheme of
work.
Tamm heartily glad to hear your Journal® is so much ad-
vanced; how magnificently it seems to be illustrated! An
“Oriental Naturatist,” with lots of imagination and not too
much regard to facts, is just the man to discuss species! I
think your title of A Journal of a Naturalist in the East’
very good; but whether “in the Himalaya” would not be
better, I have doubted, for the East sounds rather vague, . +
C. Darwin te J. D, Hooker,
(853.1
‘My prar Hooker,—I have no remarks at all worth
sending you, nor, indeed, was it likely that I should, con-
sidering how perfect and elaborated an essay it ist As far
as my judgment goes, it is the most important discussion
on the points in question ever published, I can say no more,
T agree with almost everything you say; but I require much
time to digest an essay of such quality. It almost made me
gloomy, partly from fecling I could not answer some points
which theoretically I should have liked to have been differ
ent, and partly from seeing se far detier done than! could have
done, discussions on some points which 1 had intended to
have taken up. . . .
1 much enjoyed the slaps you have given to the provincial
apecies-mongers. I wish I could have been of the slightest
use: I have been deeply interested by the whole essay, and
congratulate you on having produced a memoit which T be-
Hieve will be memorable, Iwas deep in it when your most
considerate note arrived, begging me not to hurry, f thank
Mrs. Hooker and yourself most sincerely for your wish to see
me, I will not let another summer pass without seeing you
at Kew, for indeed 1 should enjoy it much.
Sir J. D, Hooker's ‘ Himalayan Journal,’
t* New Zesiand Flora,’ 1853.
4oz GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN? form
You do me really more honour than T have any claim to,
putting me in after Lyell on ups and downs. In a yearor
two's time, when I shall be at my species book (if 1 donot
break down), f shall ynash my tecth and abuse you for having
put $0 many hostile facts so confoundedly well
Ever yours affectionately,
Cc. Danwr,
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Dovwn, March 26h [184]
My pean Hooxer,—I had hoped that you would have
had a little breathing-time after your Journal, but this seems
to be very far from the case; and I am the more obliged
{and somewhat contrite) for the long letter received this
morning, most juicy with news and aes interesting to me in
many ways. I am very glad indeed to hear of the reforms,
&c,, in the Royal Society. With respect to the Club,* I am
deeply interested ; only two or three days ago, I was regret=
ting to my wife, how I was letting drop and being dropped
by nearly all my acquaintances, and that T would endeayour
to go oftener to London; I was not then thinking of the Club,
which, as far as any ane thing goes, would answer my exact
abject in keeping up old and making some new acquaintances,
* The Philosophical Club, to which my faih
Bowney is goed enough to inform me)on April 24,1864. He resigned his
membership in 1863. The Club wax founded in 1847. The number of
members being limited to 47, It war proposed to christen it “the Club of
47 but the name was never adopted. ‘The nature of the Club may be
gathered from its rst rule: “The purpese of the Club is to promote as much
ns peasible the seientifie objects of the Royal Society ; to facilitate Sater
caume between those Fellows erho are actively engaged in cultivating the
various branches of Nataral Science, and who have cootriboted to {ts ping=
ress: fo Increase the attendance at the evening meetings, and to encour
age the cunteibution and discunion of papers” The Club met for dinner
(at first) at G and the chair was to be quilted at 8.14, it being expected that
members would goto the Royal Society, Of late years the dinner has
been af 6.30, the Society meeting in the afvemoon
wis elected (as Professor
risa] HUMROLDT—AGASSIZ, 403
T will therefare come up to London for every (with rare ex-
ceptions) Club-day, and then my head, I think, will allow me
‘on an average to goto every other mecting. But it is griev-
‘ous how often any change knocks me up. I will further
pledge myself, ay I told Lyell, to resign after a year, if T did
not attend pretty often, so that I should af worst encumber
the Club temporarily. If you can get me elected, I certainly
shall be very much pleased. Very many thanks for answers
about Glaciers, I am very glad to hear of the second Edit.*
so very soon; but am not surprised, for 1 have heard of
several, in our small circle, reading it with very much pleasure,
T shall be curious to hear what Humboldt will say: it will, I
should think, delight him, and meet with more praise from
him than any other book of Travels, for I cannot remember
‘one, which has so many subjects in common with him. What
a wonderful old fellow he is... . . By the way, I hope,
when you go to Hitcham, towards the end of May, you will
be forced to have some rest. I am grieved to hear that all
the bad symptoms have not left Henslow; it is so strange
‘and new to feel any uneasiness about his health, T am
particularly obliged to you for sending me Asa Gray's letter ;
how very pleasantly he writes. ‘To see his and your caution
‘on the species-question ought to overwhelm me in confusion
and shame; it does make me feel deuced uncomfortable. . . .
Tr is delightful to hear all that he says on Agassiz : how very
singular it is that so eminently clever a man, with such émmense
Knowledge on many branches of Natural History, should
write as he does. Lyell told me that he was so delighted with
one of his (Agassiz) lectures on progressive development, &c.,
&e,, that he went to him afterwards and told him, “that it
was so delightful, that he could not help all the time wishing
it was true.” T seldom see a Zoological paper from North
America, without observing the impress of Agassia’s doc-
trines—another proof, by the way, of how great a man he is,
Twas pleased and surprised to see A. Gray's remarks on
* OF the Himalayan Journal.
=
404 GROWTH OF THE *ORIGIN! Dis
erossing, obliterating varieties, on which, as you know, I have
been collecting facts for these dozen years. How awfully flat
Ishall feel, ifwhen I get my notes together on species, &Cy &tu»
the whole thing explodes like an empty pufl-ball, Do aot
work yourself to death. Ever yours most truly,
C, Danwis,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hacker.
Down, Nor sth Ertsa}
My peak Hooker,—I was delighted to get your note
yesterday. I congratulate you very heartily,® and whether
you care much or little, I rejoice to see the highest scientific
judgment-court in Great Britain recognise your claims, Ido
hope Mrs, Hooker is pleased, and E, desires me particularly
to send her cordial congratulations . . . 1 pity you from the
very bottom of my heart about your after-dinner speech,
which I fear I shall not hear, Without you have & very
much greater soul than I have (and I believe that you have),
you will find the medal a pleasant little stimulus, when work
goes badly, and one ruminates that all is vanity, it is pleasant
to have some tangible proof, that others have thought some=
thing of one’s labours.
Good-bye my dear Hooker, I can assure [you] that we
both most truly enjoyed your and Mrs. Hooker's visit here.
Farewell, My dear Hooker, your sincere friend,
C. Danwrx,
C. Darwin to J, D. Hooker,
March 7 [8s], ~
«=. T have just finished working well at Wollaston’s }
"Insecta Maderensia*: it is an admirad{e work. ‘There is a
very curious point in the astounding proportion of Coleoptera.
* On the awarit 10 him of the Royal Soclety's Medal
+ Thomas Vernon Wollaston died (in his fiftyseventh year, as I Delleve}
on Jan 4, 1878. His health forcing him in early manhood to winter in
1855.) INSECTA MADERENSIA, 405
that are apterous; and I think I have guessed the reason,
via,, that powers of fight would be injurious to insects inha-
biting aconfined locality, and expose them to be blown to the
sea; to test this, I find that the insects inhabiting the Dezerte
Grande, a quite small islet, would be still more exposed to
this danger, and here the proportion of apterous insects is
even considerably greater than on Madeira Proper. Wollas-
ton speaks of Madeira and the other Archipelagoes as being
“sure and certain witnesses of Forhes’ old continent," and of
course the Entomological world implicitly follows this view.
But to my eyes it would be difficult to imagine facts more
opposed to such a view. It is really disgusting and humi-
liating to see directly opposite conclusions drawa from the
same facts.
I have had some correspondence with Wollaston on this
and other subjects, and I find that he coolly assumes, (r) that
formerly insects possessed greater migratory powers than now,
(2) that the old land was specta/ly rich in centres of creation,
(3) that the uniting land was destroyed before the special
creations had time to diffuse, and (4) that the land was broken
down befere certain families and genera had time to reach
from Europe or Africa the points of land in question. Are
not these a jolly lot of assumptions? and yet I shall see for
the next dozen or score of years Wollaston quoted as proving
the former existence of poor Forbes’ Atlantis.
the south, he devoted himself to a study of the Coleoptera of Madeira, the
Cape de Verdes, and St. Helena, whence he deduced evidence in support
of the belief in the submerged continent of ‘Atlantis.’ In an obituary
notice by Mr. Rye (* Nature,’ 1878) he is deseribed as working persistently
‘upon a broad conception of the science to which he was devoted,” while
being at the same time " accurate, elaborate, and precise a punctum, and
naturally of a minutely critical habit.” His first scientiic paper was
weitten when he was an undergraduate at Jesus College, Cambridge. While
at the University, he wan an Amociate and afterwards 2 Member of the
Ray Club ; this isa small society wl still meets once a week, and where
the undergraduate members, or Associates, reveive much kindly encourage-
ment from their elders.
406 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN’ Tess.
I hope I have not wearied you, but J thought you would
Tike to hear about this book, which strikes me as excellent in
its facts, and the author a most nice and modest man.
‘Most truly yours,
C. Danwe,
C, Darwin a WD. Fax,
Down, March ath [rss],
My wear Fox,—How long it is since we have had any
communication, and I really want to hear how the world goes
with you ; but my immediate object is to ask you to observe
a point for me, and as 1 know now you are a very busy man
with too much to do, I shall have a good chance of your
doing what I want, as it would be hopeless to ask a quite
idle man, As you have a Noah's Ark, 1 do not doubt that
you have pigeons. (How 1 wish by any chance they were
fantails!) Now what I want to know is, at what age nestling
pigeons have their tail feathers sufficiently developed to be
counted. I donot think I ever saw a young pigeon, Tam
hard at work at my notes collecting and comparing them, in
order in some two or three years to write a book with all the
facts and arguments, which I can collect, for em? terms the
immutability of species. I want to get the young of our
domestic breeds, to see how young, and to what degree the
differences appear, I must cither breed myself (which is no
amusement but a horrid bore to me) the pigeons or buy their
young; and before I go toa seller, whom I have heard of
from Yarrell, I am really anxious to know something about
their development, not to expose my excessive ignorince,
and therefore be excessively linble to be cheated and galled.
With respect to the one point of the tail feathers, it is of course
in relation to the wonderful development of tail feathers
the adult fantail. If you had any breed of poultsy pure, T
would beg a chicken with’ exact age stated, about a week or
fortnight old ! to be sent in a box by post, if you could have
the heart to kill one; and secondly, would let nie pay poste
855) PEATHERS—SKELETONS. 407
age. . . Indeed, I should be very glad to have a nestling
common pigeon sent, for L mean ta make skeletons, and have
already just begun comparing wild and tame ducks, And I
think the results rather curious,* for on weighing the several
bones very carefully, when perfectly cleaned the proportional
weights of the two have greatly varied, the foot of the tame
having largely increased. How I wish T could get a little
wild duck of a week old, but that I know is almost impos-
sible.
With respect to ourselves, I have not much to say; we
have now a terribly noisy house with the whooping cough,
but otherwise are all well. Far the greatest fact about myself
inthat I have at last quite done with the everlasting barnacles,
‘At the end of the year we had two of our little boys very ill
with fever and bronchitis, and all sorts of ailments. Partly
for amusement, and partly for change of air, we went to Lon-
don and took a house for a month, but it turned ont a great
failure, for that dreadful frost just set in when we went, and
all our children got unwell, and E, and I had coughs and
colds and rheumatism nearly all the time. We had put down
first on our list of things to do, to go and see Mrs, Fox, but
literally after waiting some time to see whether the weather
would not improve, we had not a day when we both could
go ont,
I do hope before very long you will be able to manage
to pay us a visit. Time is slipping away, and we are getting
oldish. Do tell us about yourself and all your large family.
1 know you will help me é you can with information about
the young pigeons ; and anyhow do write before very long.
My dear Fox, your sincere old friend,
©, Daw
*T have just been testing practically what disuse does in reducing
Thave made skeleton of wild and tame duck (ob, the sovell of srell-
boite, high duck {1} and 1 find the tamenduck wing ought, according to
scale of wild prototype, to have its two wings 360 grains in weight, but it
‘has it omly 317."—A letter to Sir J. Hooker, 1855.
408 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN. ‘Tréss.
P.S—Amongyt all sorts of odds and ends, with which I
am amusing myself, 1 am comparing the seeds of the varia-
tions of plants, 1 had formerly some wild cabbage seeds,
which I gave to some one, was it to you? It isa thousand to
one it was thrown away, if not I should be very glad of a
pinch of it,
[The following extract from a letter to Mr, Fox (March
27th, 1855) refers to the same subject as the last letter, and
gives some account of the “species work:” “The way I
shall kill young things will be to put them under a tumbler
glass with a teaspoon of ether or chloroform, the glass being
pressed down on some yielding surface, and leave them for
an hour or twa, young have such power of revivication. (I
have thus killed moths and butterflies) The best way would
be to send them as you procure them, in pasteboard chip-box:
by post, on which you could write and just tie wp with strimg 5
and you will realy make me happier by allowing me to keep
an account of postage, &c. Upon my word I ean hardly
believe that «my one could be so good-natured as to take such
trouble and do such a very disagreeable thing as kill babies ;
and Tam very sure I do not know one soul who, except your
self, would do so, I am going to ask one thing more; should
‘old hens of any above poultry (not duck) die or heeome sa
old as to be wsefess, I wish you would send her to me per rail,
addressed to “C, Darwin, care of Mr, Acton, Post-office,
Bromley, Kent." Will you keep this address? as shortest
way for parcels, But I do not care so much for this, as
could buy the old birds dead at Baily to make skeletons. I
should have written at once even if I had not heard from
you, to beg you not to take trouble about pigeons, for Varrell
has persuaded me to attempt it, and 1 am now fitting up =
place, and have written to Baily about prices, &c., &c. Some
dime (when you are better) I should like very much to hear a
Tittle about your “Little Call Duck"; why #0 called? And
where you got it? and what it is like? . . | I was so ignorant
1 did not even know there were three varieties of Dorking
fowl: how do they differ? . . .
1855] MUTABILITY OF SPECTES, 409
I forget whether T ever told you what the object of my
present work is—it is to view all facts that I can master
(eheu, chen, how ignorant I find 1 am) in Natural History
(as on geographical distribution, paleontology, classification,
hybridism, domestic animals and plants, &c., &c., &c.) to see
how far they favour or are opposed ta the notion that wild
species are mutable or immutable: I mean with my utmost
power to give all arguments and facts on both sides. T’have
a number of people helping me in every way, and giving me
most valuable assistance ; but 1 often doubt whether the sub-
ject will not quite overpower me.
So much for the quasi-business part of my letter. Ia
very very sorry to hear so indifferent account of your health =
with your large family your life is very precious, and [ am
Sure with all your activity and goodness it ought to be a
happy one, or as happy as can reasonably be expected with
all the cares of futurity on one.
One cannot expect the present to be like the old Crux«
major days at the foot of those noble willow stumps, the
memory of which I revere. I pow find my little entomology
which T wholly owe fo you, comes in very useful. Tam very
glad to hear that you have given yourself a rest from Sun-
day duties. How much illness you have had in your life!
Farewell my dear Fox, J assure you I thank you heartily for
your proffered assistance."]
C. Darwin lo W. D. Fox.
Down, May 7th [?8igs].
Mr pear Fox,—My correspondence has cost you a deal
of trouble, though this note will not, 1 found yours on my
return home on Saturday after a week’s work in London.
Whilst there T saw Varrell, who told me he had carefully ex-
amined all points in the Call Duck, and did not feel any
doubt about it being specifically identical, and that it had
Crossed freely with common varieties in St. James's Park. I
should therefore be very glad for a seven-days' duckling and
a
410 GROWTH OF THI ‘ORIGIN" [rts
for onc of the old birds, should one ever die a natural death.
Yarrell told me that Sabine had collected forty varieties of
the common duck! , , . Well, to return to business ; nobody,
1 ain sure, could fix better for me than you the characteristic
age of little chickens ; with respect to skeletons, 1 have feared
it would be impossible to make them, but I suppose I shalt
be able to measure limbs, &c., by feeling the joints, What
you say about old cocks just confirms what 1 thought, and I
will make my skeletons of old cocks. Should am old wild
turkey ever die, please remember me; 1 do not care for a
baby turkey, nor for a mastiff, Very many thanks for your
offer, I have puppies of bulldogs and greyhound in salt,
and I have had cart-horse and race-horse young colts care-
fully measured, Whether I shall do any good Edoubt, 1
am getting out of my depth, Most truly yours,
Danwes.
[An extract from a letter to Mr. Fox may find a place here,
though of a later date, viz. July, 1855 +
“Many thanks for the seven days’ old white Dorking, and
for the other promised ones. I am getting quite a 'chamber
of horrors,’ 1 appreciate your kindness even more than be=
fore; for Lhave done the black deed and murdered an angelic
little fantail and pouter at ten days old. 1 tried chloroform
and ether for the first, and though evidently a perfectly easy
death, it was prolonged ; and for the second T tried putting
lumps of cyanide of potassium in a very large damp bottle,
half an hour before putting in the pigeon, and the prussle
acid gas thus generated was very quickly fatal."
A letter to Mr, Fox (May 23rd, 1855) gives the first men=
tion of my father’s laborious piece of work on the breeding
of pigeons :
“I write now to say that 1 have been looking at some of
‘our mongrel chickens, and { should say onc avek eldd would
3455.) PIGEON FANCYING. ait
do very well. The chief points which Iam, and have been
for years, very curious about, is to ascertain whether the
young of our domestic breeds differ as much from each other
‘as do their parents, and I have no faith in anything short of
actual measurement and the Rule of Three. I hape and be+
Kieve Tam not giving so much trouble without a motive of
sufficient worth. I have got my fantails and pouters (choice
birds, I hope, as 1 paid aos. for each pair from Baily) ina
grand cage and pigeon-house, and they are a decided amuse
ment to me, and delight to H.""
In the course of my father’s pigeon-fancying enterprise he
necessarily became acquainted with breeders, and was fond
of relating experiences as a member of the Columbarian
and Philoperistera Clubs, where he met the purest enthusiasts
of the “fancy,” and learnt much of the mysteries of their art.
In writing to Mr. Huxley some years afterwards, he quotes
from a book on ‘Pigeons’ by Mr. J. Eaton, in illustration of
the “extreme attention and close observation" necessary to
be a good fancier.
“In his [Mr. Eaton's) treatise, devoted to the Almond
‘Tumbler a/one, which is a sub-variety of the short-faced vari-
ety, which is a variety of the ‘Tumbler, as that is of the Rock-
pigeon, Mr. Eaton says: ‘There are some of the young fan>
ciers who are over-covetous, who go for all the five properties
at once [i.¢, the five characteristic points which are maioly
attended to—C. D.], they have their reward by getting noth-
ing.’ In short, it is almost beyond the human intellect to
attend to aif the excellencies of the Almond Tumbler!
"To be a good breeder, and to suceced in improving any
breed, beyond everything enthusiasm is required. Mr. Eaton
has gained lots of prizes, listen to him.
“TE it was possible for noblemen and gentlemen to know
the amazing amount of solace and pleasure derived from the
Almond Tumbler, when they begin to understand their (f
the tumbler’s) properties, I should think that sear
nobleman or gentleman would be without their a
Almond Tumblers."”
42 GROWTH OF THE “ORIGIN. ‘[e8ss.
My father was fond of quoting this passage, and always
with a tone of fellow-feeling for the author, though, ne doubt,
he had forgotten his own wonderings as a child that “every
gentleman did not become an ornithologist." —(* Autobiogra~
phy,’ P. 32)
‘To Mr. W. B. Tegetmeier, the well-known writer on poul»
try, &e,, he was indebted for constant advice and €o-opera=
tion, Their correspondence began in rags, and lasted to
1381, when my father wrote: “I'can assure you that I often
Jook back with pleasure to the old days when I attended te
pigeons, fowls, &c., and when you gave me such valuable as-
sistance, I not rarely regret that 1 have had $0 little strength
that T have not been able to keep up old acquaintances and
friendships." My fathers's letters to Mr, Tegetmeier consist
almost entirely of series of questions relating to the different
breeds of fowls, pigeons, &c., and are hot, therefore, interest-
ing. In reading through the pile of letters, one is much
struck by the diligence of the writer's search for facts, and it
is made clear that Mr. Tegetmeier’s knowledge and judgment
were completely trusted and highly valued by him, Namer-
‘ous phrases, such as “your note is a mine of wealth to me,"*
occur, expressing his sense of the value of Mr. Tegetmcier’s
help, as well as words expressing his warm appreciation of
Mr, Tegetmeier's unstinting zeal and kindness, or his “pure
and disinterested love of science." On the subject of hive
bees and their combs, Mr. Tegetmeier's help was also valued
by my father, who wrote, - your paper on *Bees-cells,” read
before the British Association, was highly useful and suggest
tive to me."
To work out the problems on the Geographical Distribu-
tions of animals and plants on evolutionary principles, he had
to study the means by which seeds, eggs, &c,, can be trams
ported across wide spaces of ocean. It was this need which
yave an interest to the class of experiment to which the fol-
lowing letters allude.]
1855.5 LIZARDS, 413,
©. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
Down, May 17th [14s5]-
My pear Fox,—You will hate the very sight of my hand-
writing; but after this time I promise I will ask for nothing
more, at least for a long time. As you live on sandy soil,
have you lizards at all common? If you have, should you
think it too ridiculous to offer a reward for me for lizard’s
eggs to the boys in your school; a shilling for every half-
dozen, or more if rare, till you got two or three dozen and
send them to me? If snake's eggs were brought in mistake
it would be very well, for [ want such also; and we have
neither lizards nor snakes about here. My object is to see
whether such eggs will float on sea water, and whether they:
will keep alive thus floating for a month or two in my cellar.
I am trying experiments on transportation of all organic
beings that I can; and lizards are found on every island, and
therefore I am very anxious to see whether their eggs stand
sea water. Of course this note need not be answered, with=
out, by a strange and favourable chance, you can some day
answer it with the eggs. Your most troublesome friend,
Cc. Darwis.
©, Darwin to J D. Hooker.
April 19th [r8s5].
. Uhave had one experiment some little time in pro=
gress, which will, I think, be interesting, namely, seeds in salt
water immersed In water of 32°-33", which T have and shall
Tong have, as I filled a great tank with snow. When I wrote
Tast I was going to triumph aver you, for my experiment had
in a slight degree succeeded; but this, with infinite baseness,
Tdid not tell, in hopes that you would say that you would
eat all the plants which I could raise after immersion, It is
very aggravating that T cannot in the least remember what
you did formerly say that made me think you scoffed at the
experiments vastly; for you now seem to view the experi-
iy GROWTH OF THR ‘ORIGINS fess.
ment like a good Christian. 1 have in small bottles out of
doors, exposed to variation of temperature, cress, radish,
cabbages, lettuces, carrots, and celery, and onion seed—foar
great (amilies. These, after immersion for exactly one week,
have all germinated, which T did not in the least expees (and
thought how you would sneer at me); for the water of nearly
all, and of the cress especially, smelt very badly, and the
cress seed emitted a wonderful quantity of mucus (the *Ves~
tiges’ would have expected them to tur into tadpoles), so
#8 to adhere in a mass; but these seeds germinated and
grew splendidly. The germination of all (especially cress
and lettuces) has been acceletated, except the eabbages,
which have come up very irregularly, and a good many, T
think, dead, One would have thought, from their native
habitat, that the cabbage would have stood well. The Um
belliferse and onions seem to stand the salt well, 1 wash the
seed before planting them. 1 have written to the Ganfeners”
Chronicle* though 1 doubt whether it was worth while. If
my success seems to make it worth while, I will send a seed
list, to get you to mark some different classes of seeds, To-
day I replant the same seeds as above after fourteen days"
immersion. As many sea-currents go a mile an hour, even
in a week they might be transported 168 miles; the Gulf
Stream is said to go fifty and sixty miles a day. So much
and too much on this head; but my geese are always
swans...
© Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Apel rath, 9855.)
- + You area good man to confess that you expected the
cress would be killed in a week, for this gives me a nice little
* A few words aking for information, The rewilts were published in
the ‘Gardeners’ Chronicle,’ May 26, Nov. 24, 1845. In the sane year (p,
789) he sent a P.S. to his former paper, correcting = misprint and add
ing a few words on the seeds of the Leguminosae. A fuller paper on the
germination of seeds after treatment in salt water, appeared by the * Lin
‘hrcan Soe. Journal,’ 1895, p. 190
1855.) GERMINATION EXPREIMENTS, AS
triumph. The children at first were tremendously eager, and
asked mi¢ often, “whether I should beat Dr. Hooker!” The
cress and lettuce have just vegetated well after twenty-one
cays’ immersion. But 1 will write no more, which is a great
virtue in me; for it is to me a very great pleasure telling you
‘everything I do,
. «+ Ifyou knew some of the experiments (if they may be
so-called) which I am trying, you would have a good right
to sneer, for they are so adseerd even in my opinion that T dare
not tell you.
Have not some men a nice notion of experimentising?
T have had a letter telling me that seeds must have great
power of resisting salt water, for otherwise how could they
get to islands? This is the true way to solve a problem!
C. Darwin to J.D. Hooker,
Down [1855].
My pear Hooxer,—You have been a very good man to
exhale some of your satisfaction in writing two notes to me;
you could not have taken a better line in my opinion; but
as for showing your satisfaction in confounding my experi=
ments, I assure you I am quite enough confounded—those
horrid seeds, which, as you truly observe, if they sink they
won't float.
I have written to Scoresby and have had a rather dry
answer, but very much to the purpose, and giving me no
hopes of any law unknown to me which might arrest their
everlasting descent into the deepest depths of the ocean. By
the way it was very odd, but { talked to Col, Sabine for half
an hour on the subject, and could not make him sce with
respect to transportal the difficulty of the sinking question !
The bore is, if the confounded seeds will sink, I have been
taking ali this trouble in salting the ungrateful rascals for
nothing.
Everything has been going wrong with me lately ; the fish
at the Zoolog. Soc. ate up lots of soaked seeds, and in imagh-
416 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGING (ess.
nation they had in my mind been swallowed, fish and all,
by a heron, had been carried a hundred miles, been voided
on the banks of some other lake and germinated splendidly,
when lo and behold, the fish ejected vehemently, and with
disgust equal to my own, a// the seeds from theit mouths.*
But Tam not going to give up the floating yet = in first
place I must try fresh seeds, though of course it seems far
more probable that they will sink; and secondly, as a last
resource, I must believe in the pod oF even whole plant or
branch being washed into the sea; with floods and slips and
earthquakes ; this must continually be happening, and if kept
wet, I fancy the pods, &c, &c., would not epen and shed their
seeds. Do try your Mimosa seed at Kew,
I had intended to have asked you whether the Mime
scandens and Guilandina bonduc grows at Kew, to try fresh
seeds R. Brown tells me he believes four W. Indian seeds
have been washed on shores of Europe. T was assured at
Keeling Island that seeds were not rarely washed on shore =
so float they must and shall! What a long yarn I have been
spinning.
If you have several of the Loffoden seeds, do soak some
in tepid water, and get planted with the utmost care: this is
an experiment after my own heart, with chances 1009 to x
against its success.
* Tn describing these roubles to Mr. Fox, my father wrote —" Alt
nature is perverse and will not do us I wish it; and just at present I wish
Thad my old barnacles to work at, and nothing now.” ‘The experiment
ultimately succeeded, and he wrote to Sir J. Hookers" fied Gish will
greedily eat seeds of aquatic geass, and that millet-seed put inte fish
And given to a stork, and then voided, will germinate. Se this is the maze
sery rhyme of ‘this is the stick that beats the pig) Sy dc."
1855] THE GARDENERS’ CHRONICLE, 47,
C. Darwin to J.D. Hooker.
Down, May etth [185s].
My DEAR Hooxer,—I have just received your note, I
am most sincerely and heartily glad at the news * it contains,
and so is my wife, Though the income is but a poor one,
yet the certainty, I hope, is satisfactory to yourself and Mrs.
Hooker, As it must lead in future years to the Directorship,
I do hope you look at it,as a piece of good fortune. For my
own taste I cannot fancy a pleasanter position, than the Head
of such a noble and splendid place; far better, f should
think, than a Professorship in a great town. The more 1
think of it, the gladder Iam, But I will sayno more ; except
that I hope Mrs, Hooker is pretty well pleased. . . .
As the Gardeners’ Chronicle put in my question, and took
notice of it, I think I am bound to send, which I had thought
of doing next week, my first report to Lindley to give him
the option of inserting it; but I think it likely that he may
not think it fit fora Gardening periodical. When my experi-
ments are ended (should the results appear worthy) and should
the ‘Linnean Journal’ not object to the previous publication
of imperfect and provisional reports, I should be delighted to
insert the final report there; for it has cost me so much
trouble, that I should think that probably the result was
worthy of more permanent record than a newspaper; but I
think I am bound to send it first to Lindley,
I begin to think the floating question more serious than
the germinating one ; and am making all the enquiries which 1
¢an on the subject, and hope to get some little light on it. . .
T hope you managed a good meeting at the Club, The
‘Treasurership must be a plague to you, and I hope you will
not be Treasurer for lang: I know I would much sooner give
up the Club than be its Treasurer,
Farewell, Mr, Assistant Director and deat friend,
C. Darwrw.
* The appointment of Sir J.D. Hooker as Astistant Director of the
Royal Gardens at Kew,
4i3 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGINS [rss
© Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
June sth, 3855,
..« Miss Thorley* and I are doing @ litle Botanical
work for our amusement, and it does amuse me very much,
vie,, making a collection of all the plants, which grow in a field,
which has been allowed to run waste for fifteen years, but
which before was cultivated from time immemorial ; and we
are also collecting all the plants in an adjoining and similar
but cultivated field ; just for the fun of seeing what plants
have survived or died out. Hereafter we shall want a bit of
help in naming puzzlers, How dreadfully difficult it is to
name plants,
What a remarkably nice and kind letter Dr. A. Gray has
sent me in answer to my troublesome queries; I retained
your copy of his ‘Manual’ till I heard from him, and when I
have answered his letter, I will return it to you.
I thank you much for Hedysarum: I do hope it is not
very precious, for as I told you it is for probably a mast fool
ish purpose. I read somewhere that no plant closes its leaves
so promptly in darkness, and I want to cover it up daily for
half an hour, and see if 1 can teach it to close by itself, or
more easily than at first in darkness, . . . . Deannot make
out why you would prefer a continental transmission, as 1
think you do, to carriage by sea. 1 should have thonght
you would have been pleased at as many means of trans
miission as possible, For my own pet theoretic notions, it
is quite indifferent whether they are transmitted by sea or
land, as long as some tolerably probable way is shown. But
it shocks my philosophy to create land, without some other
and independent evidence. Whenever we meet, by a very
few words I should, I think, more clearly understand your
views...
Thave just made out my first grass, hurrah! hurrah? 1
must confess that fortune favours the bold, for, as good lick
* A hady who was for many years a governess in the Camily.
1855.) COLLECTING PLANTS. 419
would have it, it was the easy Aathoxanthum odoratum : never
theless it is a great discovery; I never expected to make out
grass in all my life, so hurrah! It has done my stomach
surprising good, . .
© Darwin to J. D, Hooker.
Down, [June 2] 13th, [2855].
My pear Hooxer,—I just write one line to say that the
Hedysarum is come guste safely, and thank you for it.
You eannot imagine what amusement you have given
me by naming those three grasses: I haye just got paper
to dry and collect all grasses. If ever you catch quite a
beginner, and want to give him a taste of Botany, tell
him to make a perfect list of some little field or wood. Both
Miss Thorley and I agree that it gives a really uncommon
interest to the work, having a nice little definite world to
work on, instead of the awful abyss and immensity of all
British Plants.
Adios. I was really consummately impudent to express
my opinion “on the retrograde step," * and 1 deserved a good
snub, and upon reflection [ am very glad you did not answer
me in Gardeners’ Chronicle.
Thave been very much interested with the Florula.f
[Waiting on June 5th to Sir J.D, Hooker, my father men-
tions a letter from Dr. Asa Gray. The letter referred to was
‘an answer to the following :]
* "To imagine such enormous geological changes within the period of
the existence of now living beings, on no other ground but to account for
their distribution, seems to me, in our present state of ignorance on the
means of transporte}, on almost retrograde step in science.” —Extract from
the paper on *Salt Water and Seeds’ in Gardeness’ Chronicle, May 36,
1855.
+ Godron’s * Florula Juvenatis," which gives an interesting account of
plants introduced in imported Wook.
420 GROWTH OF THE ‘ORIGIN. {285s
©. Darwin to Asa Gray*
‘Down, Apeil agth [9855.)
My prar Str, hope that you will remember that I had
the pleasure of being introduced to you at Kew, T want to
beg a great favour of you, for which 1 well know I can offer
no apology. But the favour will not, 1 think, eause you much
trouble, and will greatly oblige me, As I am no botanist, it
will seem #0 absurd to you my asking botanical questions;
that 1 may premise that I have for several years been collect-
ing facts on “ variation,” and when I find that any general
remark scems to hold good amongst animals, I try to test
ic in Plants. [Here follows a request for information on
American Alpine plants, and a suggestion as to publishing
on the subject.) Ican assure you that I perceive how pre~
sumptuous it is in me, not a botanist, to make even the most
trifling suggestion to such a botanist as yourself; but from
what I saw and have heard of you from our dear and kind
friend Hooker, T hope and think that you will forgive me, and
believe me, with much respect,
Dear sir, yours very faithfully,
Cuates Danwix.
C. Darwin ta Asa Gray.
Down, June Sth [1845].
Mr pear Str,—T thank you cordially for your remarkably
Kind letter of the 22d ult, and for the extremely pleasant
and obliging manner in which you have taken my rather
woublesome questions. I can hardly tell you how muck
your list of Alpine plants has interested me, and I can now
* The wellknown American Botanist. My father’s feiendsbip with Dre
Gray began with the correspondence of which the present \s the first letter.
An extract feom a letter 10 Sle J. Moker, 1857, shows chor muy father's
siroog personal regard for Dr. Gray had an early origin: “1 have been
glad to see A. Gray's letters; there is always something in them that shows
that he is a very Jovable man’
1555.) SUGGESTIONS AND QUERIES. 421
in some degree picture to myself the plants of your Alpine
summits, The new edit. of your Manual is capital news for
me. T know from your preface how pressed you are for
room, but it would take no space to append (Eu) in brackets
to any European plant, and, as far ox I am concerned, this
would answer every purpose.” From my own experience,
whilst making out English plants in our manuals, it has often
struck me how much interest it would give if some notion
of their range had been given; and so, I cannot doubt, your
American inquirers and beginners would much like to know
which of their plants were indigenous and which European,
Would it not be well in the Alpine plants to append the very
same addition which you have now sent me in MS.? though
here, owing to your kindness, 1 do not speak selfishly, but
merely pro bono Americano publico. 1 presume it would be
too troublesome to give in your manual the habitats of those
plants found west of the Rocky Mountains, and likewise those
found in Eastern Asia, taking the Yeneset (?),—which, if I
remember right, according to Gmelin, is the main partition
line of Siberia. Perhaps Siberia more concerns the northern
Flora of North America, The ranges of the plants to the
east and west, viz., whether most found are in Greenland and
Western Europe, or in E. Asia, appears to me a very interest
ing point as tending to show whether the migration has been
eastward or westward. Pray believe me that I am most
entirely conscious that the ondy ase of these remarks is to
show a botanist what points a non-botanist is curious to
learn ; for I think every cne who studies profoundly a subject
often becomes unaware [on] what points the ignorant require
information. Iam so very glad that you think of drawing up
some notice on your geographical distribution, for the aren
of the Manual strikes ime as in some points better adapted
for comparison with Europe than that of the whole of North
America, You ask me to state definitely some of the points
on which I much wish for information; but I really hardly
* This sugyestion Dr. Gray adopted in subsequent editions.
422 GROWTH OF THE *ORIGINY rss.
can, for they are so vague; and T rather wish to see what
results will come out from comparisons, than have as yet
defined objects. I presume that, like other botanists, you
would give, for your area, the proportion (leaving out intro-
duced plants) to the whole of the great leading families : this
is one point I had intended (and, indeed, have done roughly)
to tabulate from your book, but of course I could have done
it only very imperfectly. L should also, of course, have ascer~
tained the proportion, to the whole Flora, of the European
plants (leaving out introduced) and of the separate great
Samilies, in order to speculate on means of transportal. By
the way, I ventured to send a few days ago a copy of the
Gardeners’ Chronicle with a short report by me of some
trifling experiments which T have been trying on the power
‘of seeds to withstand sea water, Ido not know whether it
has struck you, but it has me, that it would be advisable
for botanists to give in whole numbers, a8 well as in the lowest
fraction, the proportional numbers of the families, thus I make
‘ont from your Manual that of the indigenous plants the pros
portion of the Umbelliferm are 13f;= 2s; for, without one
knows the whole numbers, one cannot judge how really close
the numbers of the plants of the same family are in two dis-
tant countries ; but very likely you may think this superfluous,
Mentioning these proportional numbers, I may give you an
instance of the sort af points, and how vague and futile they
often are, which I atéempt to work out . . ,; reflecting on R,
Brown's and Hooker's remark, that near identity af propor
tional numbers of the great families in two countries, shows
probably that they were once continuously united, 1 thought
1 would calculate the proportions of, for instance, the Hafre-
saced Composite in Great Britain to all the introduced
plants, and the result was, 4) In our advriginal or
indigenous flora the proportion is yy; and in many other
cascs I found an equally striking correspondence I then
took your Manual, and worked out the same question; here
J find in the Composite an almost equally striking correspond
ence, viz. A=] in the introduced plants, and yyy =} in
3855.) SUGGESTIONS AND QUERIES. 433
the indigenous; but when I came to the other families T
found the proportion entirely different, showing that the co-
incidences in the British Flora were probably accidental !
You will, L presume, give the proportion of the species to
the genera, /.¢,, show on an average how many species cach
genus contains ; though T have done this for myself.
If ft would not be too troublesome, do you not think it
would be very interesting, and. give a very good idea of your
Floru, to divide the species into three groups, vis. (a) species
common to the old world, stating numbers common to Europe
and Asia; (¢) indigenous species, but belonging to genera
found in the old world ; and (c) species belonging to genera
confined to America or the New World. To make (according
to my ideas) perfection perfect, one ought to be told whether
there are other cases, like Erica, of genera common in Europe
or in Old World not found in your area. But honestly I feel
that it is quite ridiculous my writing to you at such length on
the subject; but, as you have asked me, Ido it gratefully,
and write to you as I should to Hooker, who often laughs
at me unmercifully, and I am sure you have better reason
to do 50.
‘There is one point on which I am mest anxious for infor-
mation, and I mention it with the greatest hesitation, and
only in the full belief that you will believe me that T have
not the folly and presumption to hope for a second that you
will give it, without you can with very little trouble. The
point can at present interest no one but myself, which makes
the case wholly different from geographical distribution. ‘The
‘only way in which, 1 think, you possibly could do it with little
trouble would be to bear in mind, whilst correcting your proof
sheets of the Manual, my question and put a cross or mark
to the species, and whenever sending a parcel to Hooker ta
Jet me have such old sheets, But this would give you the
trouble of remembering my-question, and I can hardly hope
or expect that you will do it, But I will just mention what I
want; it is to have marked the “close species” in a Flora, so
as to compare in different Floras whether the same genera
genera in distant quarters of the globe are variable or present
varieties, The definition I should give of a “elose species”
was one that you thought specifically distinet, but which you
could conceive some other geod botanist might think only a
race or variety; or, again, a species that you bad trouble,
though having opportunities of knowing it well, in discrimie
nating from some other species. Supposing that you were
inclined to be so very kind as to do this, and could (which 1
do not expect) spare the time, as 1 have said, @ mere cross
toeach such species in any useless proof-sheets would give
‘me the information desired, which, I may add, 1 know must
be vague.
How can I apologise enough for all my presimption and
the extreme length of this letter? ‘The great good mature of
your letter to me hax been partly the cause, so that, as is too
‘often the case in this world, you are punished for your good
deeds, With hearty thanks, believe me,
Yours very truly and gratefully,
Cx. Danwin,
C. Darwin to J. D, Hooker,
Down, 18th [Jaly, 1853].
+++ T think I am getting a milf case about Charlock
seed; * but just as about salting, ill luck to it, IT cannot
remember how many yeirs you would allow that Charlock
* In the Gardeners’ CArewicle, 1885, p. 758, appeared m notice (=o
column in length) by my father on the Pi Vilty of Sects The ets
related refer to the **Sand-walk” ; the wood was planted in 1846 on =
plece of pasture land laid down as grass in igo In 1856, on the soil
being dug in several places, Charlock {frites sinaplotrom) sprang up
freely. The M contiowed to interest him, and 1 fod & pote dated
July 2nd, 1874, in which my father recorded that forty-six plants of Char~
Tock sprang up in that year over a space (t4 x7 feet} which had been dug
toa considerable depth.
ye
seed might live in the ground, Next time you write, show
a bold face, and say in how many years, you think, Charlock
seed would probably all be dead. A man told me the other
day of, ag T thought, a splendid instance,—and splendid it
was, for according to his evidence the seed came up alive out
of the Jower part of the London Clay! (I disgusted him by
telling him that Palms ought to have come wp,
You ask how far { go in attributing organisms to a com-
mon descent; 1 answer T know not; the way in which J in-
tend treating the sabject, is to show (at far as 7 can) the facts
and arguments for and against the common descent of the
‘species of the same genus; and then show how far the same
arguments tell for or against forms, more and more widely
different : and when we come to forms of different orders
and classes, there remain only some such arguments as those
which can perhaps be deduced from similar rudimentary
‘structures, and very soon not an argument is left.
[The following extract from a letter to Mr. Fox [Oct.
1855,” gives a brief mention of the last meeting of the British
‘Association which he attended:] “I really have no news:
the only thing we have done for a long time, was to go to
Glasgow ; but the fatigue was to me more than it was worth,
and E, caught a bad cold. On our return we stayed a single
day at Shrewsbury, and enjoyed seeing the old place. T saw
a little of Sir Philip + (whom I liked much), and he asked me
“why on earth I instigated you to rob his poultry-yard ?"
‘The meeting was a good one, and the Duke of Argyll spoke
exeellently.”]
In this year he published (' Phil. Mag.
icebergs to make rectilinear uniform! ydire
Fine undulatory surface."”
+ Sir P, Eyerton was e neighbour of Mr. Fos.
1 paper ‘On the power of
(ed grooves across a sumo
CHAPTER XIi.
THE UNFINISHED BOOK,
May 1846 to June 1858.
obiogtaphical chapter (page 69,) my father
wrote :-— Early in 1856 Lyell advised me to write out my
views pretty fully, and I began at once to do $0 on a scale
three or four times as extensive as that which was afterwards
followed in say ‘Origin of Species;" yet it was only an abe
stract of the materials which I had collected.” ‘The letters
in the present chapter are chiefly concerned with the prepara-
tion of this unfinished book,
The work was begun on May 14th, and steadily continued
up to June 1858, when it was interrupted by the arrival of
Mr. Wallace's MS. During the two years which we are now
considering he wrote ten chapters (that is about one-half) of
the projected book. He remained for the most part at home,
but paid several visits to Dr. Lane's Water-Cure Establish=
ment at Moor Park, during one of which he made a palgrim-
age to the shrine of Gilbert White at Selborne,]
[Is the
LETTERS.
C, Darwin to C. Lyell,
May 3 [e8e6}-
. With respect to your suggestion of 2 sketch of my
views, I hardly know what to think, but will reflect on is, bat
it goes against my prejudices, "To give a fair eketeh would be
absolutely impossible, for every proposition requires such am
86) THE UNFINISHED BOO}
array of facts. If T were to do anything, it could anly refer
to the main agency of change—selection—and perhaps point
out a very few of the leading features, which countenance
such a view, and some few of the main difficulties, But I do
not know what to think; I rather hate the idea of writing
for priority, yet I certainly ahould be vexed if any one were
to publish my doctrines before me. Anyhow, I thank you
heartily for your sympathy. I shall be in London next week,
and L will call on you on Thursday morning for one hour pre-
cisely, 30 as not to lose much of your time and my own; but
will you let me this time come as early as g o'clock, for 1
have much which I must do in the morning in my strongest
time? Farewell, my dear old patron,
Yours,
© Dagwir.
By the way, Aree plants have come up out of the earth,
perfectly enclosed in the roots of the trees. And twenty-nine
plants in the table-spoonful of mud, out of the little pond ;
Hooker was surprised at this, and struck with it, when I
showed him how much mud I had scraped off one duck's
feet.
If I did publish a short sketch, where on earth should I
publish it?
Hf I do of hear, { shall understand that I may come from
9 to 10 on Thursday,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
May oth, [186}.
..« Tvery much want advice and 4ruthful consolation if
you can give it, I had a good talk with Lyell about my
species work, and he urges me strongly to publish something.
Tam fixed against any periodical or Journal, as T positively
‘will not expose myself to an Editor or a Council, allowing
publication for which chey might be abused. If 1 publish
anything it must be a very thi and little volume, giving &
sketch of my views and difficulties ; but it is really dreadfully
i
438 THE UNFINISHED BOOK. se
unphilosophical to give a resumé, without exact Tae
‘of an unpublished work. But Lyell seemed to think 1
do this, at the suggestion of friends, and on the ground,
I might state, that I had been at work for eighteen * years,
and yet could not publish for several years, and copectdaypae as
1 could point out difficulties which seemed to me to require
especial investigation, Now what think you? T should be
really grateful for advice, I thought of giving up a couple of
months and writing such a sketch, and trying to keep my
judgment open whether or no to publish it when completed.
It will be simply impossible for me to give exact references;
anything important 1 should state on the authority of the
author generally; and instead of giving all the facts on which
I ground my opinion, I could give by memory only one Gr
two, In the Preface I would state that the work could not
be considered strictly scientific, but a mere sketch or outline
of a future work in which full references, &e., should be
given, Eheu, chev, I believe I should sneer at any one else
doing this, and my only comfort is, that I érmy never dreamed
of it, till Lyell suggested it, and seems deliberately to think
it advisable
Tam in a peck of troubles and do pray forgive me for
troubling you,
Yours affectionately,
©. Darwin w J.D, Hooker.
May sth [2856}.
Now for a more important! subject, viz,, my own self z
I am extremely glad you think well of a separate “Pree
liminary Essay " (7. ¢., if anything whatever is published; for
Lyell seemed rather to doubt on this head) }; but I cannot
* The interval of eighteen years, from 1837 when he began (0 collect
facts, would bring the date of this letter to 1844, not 1346, nevertheless
the Jatter seems the more probable date.
+ The meaning of the sentence in parentheses is obscure,
4886.) THE UNPINISHED BOOK. 429,
bear the idea of Aegging some Editor and Council to publish,
and then perhaps to have to apolagise humbly for having led
them into a scrape, In this one respeet T am in the state
which, according to a very wise saying of my father’s is the
only fit state for asking advice, viz., with my mind firmly made
‘up, and then, as my father used to say, good advice was very
comfortable, and it was casy to reject day advice, But
Heaven knows I am not in this state with respect to publish-
ing at all any preliminary essay. It yet strikes me as quite
unphilosophical to publish results without the full details
which have led to such results,
It is a melancholy, and I hope not quite true view of yours
‘that facts will prove anything, and are therefore superfluous
But I have rather exaggerated, I see, your doctrine. 1 do
not fear being tied down to error, £¢, 1 feel pretty sure T
should give up anything false published in the preliminary
essay, in my larger work ; but I may thus, it is very true, do
mischief by spreading error, which as I have often heard you
say is much easier spread than corrected. I confess I lean*
more and more to at least making the attempt and drawing
up a sketch and trying to keep my judgment, whether to
publish, open. But T always return to my fixed idea that it
is dreadfully unphilosophical to publish without full details.
T certainly think my future work in full would profit by hear-
ing what my friends or critics (if reviewed) thought of the
outline,
‘To any one but you I should apologise for such long dis+
cussion on so personal an affair; but I believe, and indeed
you have proved it by the trouble you have taken, that this
‘would be superfluous,
Yours truly obliged,
Cu. Darwin,
P,S. What you say (for I have just re-read your letter)
that the Essay might supersede and take away all novelty
and value from any future larger Book, is very true; and that
would grieve me beyond everything. On the other hand
430 THE UNFINISHED
(again from Lyell’s urgent advice), 1 published a preliminary
ah of the Coral Theory, and this did neither good nor
harm. I begin most Aeartify to wish that Lyell had never put |
this ides of an Essay into my head,
From a letter to Sie C, Eyelt (July, 1856).
“J am delighted that I may say (with absolute truth) that
my essay is published at your suggestion, but I hope it will
not need so much apology as T at first thought; for Dhave
resolved to make it nearly as complete as my present materials
allow. Tcannot put in all which you suggest, for it would
appear too conceited.’
From a letter to W. D. Fox.
Down, June s4zk (2856),
“., What you say about my Essay, I'dare say is very”
tric; and it gave me another fit of the wibbergibberss I
hope that I shall succeed in making it modest One great
motive is to get information on the many points on which T
want it. But I tremble about it, which I should not do, if T
allowed some three or four more years to elapse before pub-
lishing anything. . . ."
[The following extracts from letters to Mr. Fox are worth
giving, as showing how great was the accumulation of mate=
rial which now had to be dealt with,
June rath [r56).
“ Very many thanks for the capital information on eats; T
see T had blundered greatly, but 1 know I had somewhere
your orignal notes; hut my notes are so numerous during
ainctocn years collection, that it would take me at least a
year to go over and classify them,”
Nov, 1856, “Sometimes I fear I shall break down, for my
subject gets bigger and bigger with each month's work."]
oN 4
430
C. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, 6th [Jume, 1856].
My pear Lyntt,—I am going to do the most impudent
thing in the world. But my blood gets hot with passion and
turns coll alternately the geological strides, which many of
your disciples are tal
Here, poor Forbes a acontinent to [¥. ¢., extending to)
North America and another (or the same) to the Gulf weed ;
Hooker makes one from New Zealand to South America and
round the World to Kerguelen Land. Here is Wollaston
speaking of Madeira and P. Santo “as the sure and certain
witnesses of a former continent,” Here is Woodward writes
to me, if you grant a continent over 200 or 300 miles of ocean
depths (as if that was nothing), why not extend a continent
to every island in the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans? And all
this within the existence of recent species! If you do not
stop this, if there be a lower region for the punishment of
geologists, I believe, my great master, you will go there. Why,
your disciples in a slow and creeping manner beat all the old
Catastrophists who ever lived. You will live to be the great
chief of the Catastrophists.
‘There, I have done myself a great deal of good, and have
exploded my passion,
So my master, forgive me, and believe me, ever yours,
Cc. Danwin.
B.S. Don't answer this, T did it to ease myself,
©, Darwin to J.D, Hooker,
Down [June] s7th, 1846.
=... T have been very deeply interested by Wollaston’s
book,* though I differ greatly {om many of his doctrines.
Did you ever read anything so rich, considering how very far
he goes, as his denunciations against those who go further:
“Phe Variation of Speclen’ 1850,
432 TUE UNFINISHED BOOK.
“most mischievous,” “absurd,” “unsound.” ‘Theology is at
the bottom of some of this, I told him he was like Calvin
burning a heretic, It {s a very valuable and clever book in.
my opinion, He has evidently read very little out of his own
line. I urged him to read the New Zealand essay, His
Geology also ix rather evcene, a8 Ltold him. In fact 1 wrote
most frankly ; I fear too frankly; he says he is sure that ultras
honesty is my characteristic: I do not koow whether he meant
itasasncer; Thope not. Talking of cocene geology, I got
so wrath about the Atlantic continent, more especially from
a note from Woodward (who has published a capital hook on
shells), who does not seem to doubt that every island in the
Pacific and Atlantic are the remains of continents, submerged
within period of existing species, that I fairly exploded, and
wrote to Lyell to protest, and summed wp all the continents:
created of late years by Forbes (the head sinner!) yourself,
Wollaston, and Woodward, and a pretty nice little extension
of land they make altogether! 1 am fairly rabid om the
question and therefore, if not wrong already, am pretty sure
to become so .
I have enjoyed your note much, Adios,
C Darwin,
P.S, [June] 18th, Lyell has ren me a eapitel letter
on your side, which ought to upset me entirely, but I cannot
vay it does quite.
Though I must try and cease being rabid and try to feel
humble, and allow you all to make continents, as easily as a
cook does pancakes.
© Darwin to C, Lye,
Down, June agth [18s6}.
My peak Lyest,—I will haye the following tremendous:
letter copied to make the reading easier, and as 1 want to
keep a copy
As you say you would like to hear my reasons for being
most unwilling to believe in the continental extensions of
authors, 1 gladly write them, as, without I am convinced of
my error, I shall have to give them condensed in my essay,
when I discuss single and multiple creation; I shalltherefore
be particularly glad to have your geueral opinion on them,
IL may quite fikely have pecsuaded myself in my wrath that
there is more in them than there is, If there was much more
reason to admit a continental extension in any one or two
fogtances (as in Madeira) than in other cases, T should feel no
difficulty whatever, Bur if on account of European plants,
and littoral sea shells, it is thought necessary to join Madeira
to the mainland, Hooker is quite right to join New Holland
10 New Zealand, and Auckland Island (and Raoul Island to
N.E.), and these to S. America and the Falklands, and these
to Tristan d’Acunha, and these to Kerguelen Land; thus
making, either strictly at the same time, or at different
periods, but all within the life of recent beings, an almost
cieumpolar belt of land. So again Galapagos and Juan Fere
nandez must be joined to America; and if we trust to littoral,
sea shells, the Galapagos must have been joined to the Pa-
elfic Islands (2400 miles distant) as well as to America, and
as Woodward scems to think all the islands in the Pacific
into a magnificent continent; also the islands in the Southern
Todian Ocean into another continent, with Madagascar and
Africa, and perhaps India, In the North Atlantic, Europe
will stretch half-way across the ocean to the Azores, and
further north right across, In short, we must suppose proba,
Diy, half the present ocean was land within the period of
living organisms. The Globe within this period must have
had a quite different aspect. Now the only way to test this,
that I can see, is to consider whether the continents have un
dergone within this same period such wonderful permuta-
tions. In all North and South and Central Amerien, we have
both recent and miocene (or eocene) shells, quite distinct on
| the opposite sides, and hence T cannot doubt that /umawent
aily America has held its place since at least, the miocene
period, In Africa almost all the living shells are distinct on.
— Ss
suppose, ‘mainland,
Sardinia, and how different it appears. Believing, as 1 am
inclined, that continents as continents, and oceans as oceans,
are of immense antiquity—I should say that if any of the
existing oceanic islands have any relation of any kind to con
tinents, they are forming continents; and that by the time
they could form a continent, the volcanoes would be deouded:
to their cores, leaving peaks of sycnite, diorite, or porphyry.
But have we nowhere any last wreck of a continent, in the
midst of the ocean? St, Paul's Rock, and such old batwered
volcanic islands, as St Helena, may be; but I think we can
ce some reason why we should have less evidence of sink-
ing than of rising continents (if my view in my Coral volume
has any truth in it, via. that volcanic outbursts accompany
rising areas), for during subsidence there will be no compen-
sating agent at work, in rising areas there will be the aviditional
element of outpoured volcanic matter,
Thirdly. Considering the depth of the ocean, I was, be~
fore T got your letter, inclined vehemently to dispute the vast
amount of subsidence, but I must strike my colours. With
respect to coral reefs, 1 carefully guarded against its being
supposed that a continent was indicated by the groups of
atolls, It is difficult to guess, as it seems to me, the amount
of subsidence indicated by coral reefs; but in such large
areas as the Lowe Archipelago, the Marshall Archipelago,
and Laccadive group, it would, judging, from the heights of
existing oceanic archipelagnes, be odd, if some peaks of from
8000 to to,c0 feet had not been buried. Even after your
letter a suspicion crossed me whether it would be fair to
argue from subsidences in the middle of the greatest oceans
to continents; but refreshing my memory by talking with
Ramsay in regard to the probable thickness in one vertical
line of the Silurian and carboniferous formation, it seems
there must have been af éeast 10,000 feet of subsidence during
these formations in Europe and North America, and therefore
during the continuance of nearly the same set of organic
Deings. But even 12,000 feet would not be enough for the
=
Azores, or for Hooker's continent; I)
infer a continuous continent, but re
islands, with, if we may judge from existing
profoundly deep sea between them; but tl
the volcanic nature of nearly every existing oce
tell against such supposed groups of islandsy—for
he does not suppose a mere chain of yolcanic
the southern hemisphere,
Fourthly, The supposed continental extensions:
seem to me, perfeetly to account for all th
distribution on islands; as the absence of
_Batrachians; the absence of certain great groups of |
‘on Madeira, and of Acacie and Banksias, a
land; the paucity of plants in some cases, Ke.
those who believe in various accidental means of
can explain most of these cases; but they may at leas
that these facts seem hardly compatible with ra
ous land,
Finally, For these several reasons, and. ectiren
ing it certain (in which you will agree) that we are extre
ignorant of means of dispe cannot avoid thinking
Forbes’ ‘Atlantis,’ was an ill-service to sclener, as che
a close study of means of dissemination, 1 shall be 4
grateful to hear, as briefly as you like, whether these |
ments have any weight with you, putting yourself it
position of an honest judge. I told Hooker that 1 was |
to write to you on this subject; and 1 should like him £0,
this; but whether he or you will think it worth timeand)
age remains to be proved. |
Yours most truly,
CHARLES Daawn
[On July Sth he wrote to Sir Charles Lyell. |
“T am sorry yon cannot give any verdict on Contin
extensions; and I infer that you think my argument o
much weight against such extensions. I know 1 wish 14
believe s0."] |
i
C. Darwin to Asa Gray.
Down, July goth [1856].
«It is nota litte egotistical, but 1 should tke to tell
you (and I do not #hink I have) how I view my work.
Nineteen years (!) ago it occurred to me that whilst otherwise
employed on Nat, Hist,, I might perhaps do good if T noted
any sort of facts bearing on the question of the origin of
species, and this 1 have since been doing. Either species
have been independently created, or they have descended
from other species, like varicties from one species, 1 think it
‘can be shown to be probable that man gets his most distinet
varieties by preserving such as arise best worth keéping and
destroying the others, but I should fill a quire if I were to go
on. To be brief, I astume that species arise like our domestic
varieties with much extinction; and then test this hypothesis
by comparison with as many general and pretty well-estab-
ished propositions as I can find made out,—in geographical
distribution, geological history, affinities, &e:, &; And it
seems to me that, supposing that such hypothesis were to
‘explain such general propositions, we ought, in accordance
with the common way of following all sciences, to admit it till
some better hypothesis be found out, For ta my mind to
say that species were created so and so is no scientific expla-
‘Nation, only a reverent way of saying it is so and so. But it
is nonsensical trying to show how I try to proceed in the
‘compass of a note. But as an honest man, I must tell you
that T have come to the heterodox conclusion that there are
no suich things as independently created apecies—that species
are only strongly defined varieties. I know that this will
make you despise me, I do not much underrate the many
Auge difficulties on this view, but yet it seems to me to explain
too much, otherwise inexplicable, to be false. Just to allude
{0 one point in your last note, viz., about species of the same
genus generally having & common or continuous area ; if they
are actual lineal descendants of one species, this of course
would be the case; and the sadly too many exceptions (for
that all my notions about Aow species
from long continued study of the works
with) agriculturists and horticulturists;
‘my way pretty clearly on the means
her species and adapt them to the
itely beautiful contingencies to which
© Liatais
C. Darwin 1» J, D. Hookers
My near Hooxer,—Your letter is 0
I was not able to get a definite answer
will see in the enclosed letters, though I
thought nothing of my arguments, Had it n
correspondence, I should have written
You may rely on it I shall put my doubts
never was such a predicament as mine:
extensionists would remove enormous diffi
me, and yet T cannot honestly admit the
therefore say so, I cannot get over the fact |
ment of secondary or palieozoic rock has be
subsidence of 20.090 oF 30,000 feet ; it is only probability, con-
sidering such evidence as we have independently of distribu-
tion, J have not yet worked out in full detail the fer oe
‘of mammalia, both fventica/ and allied, with respect to 4
clement of depth of the sea; but as far as T have gone, ime
tesults are to me surprisingly accordant with my very most
troublesome belief in not such great geographical changes as
you believe; and in mammalia we certainly know more of
wweans of distribution than in any other class. Nothing is so
vexatious to me, as so constantly finding myself drawing
different conclusions from better judges than myself, from the
same facts,
I fancy I have lately removed many (not geographical)
great difficulties opposed to my notions, but God. knows it
may be all hallucination,
Please return Lyell’s letters.
What a capital letter of Lyell’s that to you is, and what a
wonderful man he is. 1 differ from him greatly in thinking
that those who believe that species are nof fixed will multiply
specific names: I know in my own case my most frequent
source of doubt was whether others would not think this or
that was a God-created Barnacle, and surely deserved a name.
Otherwise T should only have thought whether the amount
of difference and permanence was sufficient to justify a name:
T am, also, surprised at his thinking it immaterial whether
species are absolute of not: whenever it is proved that all
species are produced by generation, by laws of change, what
good evidence we shall have of the gaps in formations, And
what a science Natural History will be, when we are in our
graves, when all the laws of change are thought one of the
most important parts of Natural History,
I cannot conceive why Lyell thinks such notions as mine
or of 'Vestiges,” will invalidate specific centres. But 1 must
not run on and take up your time. My MS. will not, [ fear
De copied before you go abroad. With hearty thanks,
Ever yours,
Cc. Danwrx.
as that two: better judges'than myself ay
arguments, and attach no weight to them,
©. Darwin te J.D. Hooker.
Down, Angust sth (1856)
«+. T quite agree about Lyell's letters to me, which,
though to me interesting, have afforded me no new light.
Your letters, under the gevlogical point of view, have been
more valuable to me, You cannot imagine how earnestly f
wish I could swallow continental extension, but I
the more I think (and I cannot get the subject out of
head), the more difficult 1 find it, If there were on!
half-dozen cases, I should not feel the least difficulty
the generality of the facts of all islands (exeept one or two)
having a considerable part of their productions in common
with one or more maintands utterly staggers me What a
wonderful case of the Bpacrida:! It is most vexations, also
humiliating, to me that I cannot follow and subscribe to the
way in which you strikingly pot your view of the case I
Jook at your facts (about Bucalyptus, &c.) as danening against:
continental extension, and if you like also damning against:
migration, or at least of exormous difficulty. 1 see the ground
of our difference (in a letter I must put myself on an equality.
io arguing) ties, in my opinion, that searcely anything is
known of means of distribution. I quite agree with A. De
Candolle’s (and 1 dare say your) opinion that it is poor work
putting together the merely poserive means of distribution ;
‘but I seeno other way in which the subject can be attacked,
for I think that A. De Candolle’s argument, that no plants
have been introduced into Rngland except by man’s agency,
{is] of no weight, I cannot but think that the theory of can~
tinental extension does do some little harm as stopping inves
tigation of the means of dispersal, which, whether aqgafite or
positive, seems to me of value; when negatived, then every
_» 4
thigh) SPECIFIC CENTRES. aan
one who believes in single centres will have to admit conti-
nental extensions.
... Isee from your remarks that you do not understand
my notions (whether or no worth anything) about modifica-
tion; 1 attribute very little to the direct action of climate,
&c. I suppose, in regard to specific centres, we are at cross
purposes; I should call the kitchen garden in which the red
cabbage was produced, or the farm in which Bakewell made
the Shortharn cattle, the specific centre of these species! And
surely this is centralisation enough !
I thank you most sincerely for all your assistance ; and
whether or no my book may be wretched, you have done
your best to make it less wretched. Sometimes Tam in very
good spirits and sometimes very low about it. My own mind
is decided on the question of the origin of species ; but, good
heavens, how little that is worth! , . ,
[With regard to “ specific centres,""a passage from a letter
dated July a5, 1856, by Sir Charles Lyell to Sir J, D. Hooker
(Life? ii, p. 216) is of interest
“T fear much that if Darwin argues that species are phan-
toms, he will also have to admit that single centres of disper-
sion are phantoms also, tnd that would deprive me of much
of the value which I ascribe to the present provinces of ani-
mals and plants, a8 illustrating modern and tertiary changes
in physical geography.”
He seems to have recognised, however, that the phantom
doctrine would soon have to be faced, for he wrote in the
same letter; “Whether Darwin persuades you and me to
renounce our faith in species (when geological epochs are
considered) or not, I foresee that many will go over to the
indefinite modifiability doctrine.”
In the autumn my father was still working at geographical
distribution, and again sought the aid of Sir J. D. Hooker.
A Letter to Sir J. D. Hooker (Sept, 1856).
“In the course of some weeks; you unfortunate wretch,
you will have my MS. on one point of Geographical Distriby-
29
442
tion, Twill, however, never ask such a favour again ; but is
regard to this one piece of MS, it is of infinite importance te
me for you to see it; for never in my life have I felt rock
difficulty what to do, and I heartily wish I could slur the
whole subject aver.”
In a letter to Sir J. D, Hooker (June, 1856), the following
characteristic passage occurs, suggested, no doubs, ly the
kind of work which his chapter on Geographical
entailed :
“There is wonderful ill logic in his [E. Forbes"] famous
and admirable memoir on distribution, as it appears to me,
now that I have got it up so as to give the heads in a page
Depend on it, my saying is a true one, viz., that a compiler
is a great man, and an original man a commonplace man.
Any fool can generalise and speculate; but, oh, my heavens!
to get up at second hand a New Zealand Flora, that is work.")
C. Darwin to W, D. Fox.
Oct, 3 [1886],
. L remember you protested against Lyell's advice of
writing a stetch of my specics doctrines. Well, when I began
1 found it such unsatisfactory work that I have desisted, and
am now drawing up my work as perfect a8 my materials of
nineteen years’ collecting suffice, but do not intend to stop
to perfect any line of investigation beyond current work
‘Thus far and no farther I shall fellow Lycll's urgent advice,
Your remarks weighed with me considerably. I find to my
sorrow it will run to quite a big book. I have found my care
ful work at pigeons really invaluable, a8 enlightening me on
many points on variation under domestication. “The copious
old literature, by which T can trace the gradual changes in
the breeds of pigeons has been extraordinarily useful to me.
1 have just had pigeons and fowls adive from the Gambiat
Rabbits and ducks I am attending to pretty carefully, bat
less so than pigeons I find most remarkable differences im
the skeletons of rabbits, Have you ever kept any odd breeds
3896.) ROTANICAL GEOGRAPHY. 443
of rabbits, and can you give me any details? One other
question: You used to keep hawks; do you at all know,
after eating a bird, how soon after they throw up the pellet ?
No subject gives me so much trouble and doubt and diffi
culty as the means of dispersal of the same species of terres-
trial productions on the oceanic islands. Land mollusca drive
me mad, and I cannot anyhow get their eggs to experimentise
their power of floating and resistance to the injurious action
of salt water, I will not apologise for writing so much about
my own doings, as I believe you will like to hear. Do some-
time, I beg you, let me hear how you get on in health; and
af 10 tnclined, \et me have some words on callducks.
My dear Fox, yours affectionately,
CH. DaRwiN.
[With regard to his book he wrote (Nov. 10th) to Sir
Charles Lyell ;
“I am working very steadily at my big book; I have
found it quite impossible to publish any preliminary essay or
sketch ; but am doing my work as completely as my present
materials allow without waiting to perfect them, And thie
much acceleration I owe to you.”
C. Darwin to J, D. Hooker,
Down, Sunday [Oct, 1856.]
My prar Hooxnn,—The seeds are come all safe, many
thanks for them, I was very sorry ta run away so soon and
miss any part of my most pleasant evening; and I ran away
like a Goth and Vandal without wishing Mrs. Hooker good-
bye; but I was only just in time, as I got on the platform the
train had arrived,
I was particularly glad of our discussion after dinner;
fighting a battle with you always clears my mind wonderfully.
T groan to hear that A. Gray agrees with you about the con
dition of Botanical Geography, All L know Is that if you had
Aaa THE UNFINISHED BOOK. -fite
had to search for light in Zoological Geography you would
by contrast, respect your own subject a vast deal more than
you now do. The hawks have behaved like gentlemen, and
have cast up pellets with lots of seeds in them; and [hare
just had a parcel of partridge’s feet well caked with mud !i!*
Adios. :
Your insane and perverse friend,
Cc, Darwiy,
C. Darwin to J. DB, Hooker.
Down, Now. 4th [1856].
My pean Hookex,—I thank you more cordially than you
will think probable, for your note, Your verdict? has been
a great relief, On my honour [had no idea whether or not
you would say it was (and I knew you would say it yery
kindly) so bad, that you would have begged me to haye burnt
the whole. ‘To my own mind my MS, relieved me of some
few difficulties, and the difficulties seemed to me pretty fairly
stated, but [had become so bewildered with conflicting facts,
evidence, reasoning and opinions, that I felt to myself that T
had lost all judgment, Your gencral verdict is fucomparally,
more favourable than I had anticipated,
C. Darwin to J.D. Hooker. >
Down, Nov. 2301 [1896}.
My DEAR Hooxer,—I fear I shall weary you with letters,
‘but do not answer this, for in truth and without flattery, T so
value your letters, that after a heavy batch, as of late, I feel
that I have been extravagant and have drawn too much
money, and shall therefore have to stint myself on another
occasion,
When I sent my MS. I felt strongly that some preliminary
* Tho roud in such cases often contains seeds, 90 that plants are thus
transporte
+ On the MS, relating to g
1856.) NATURAL SELECTION, 445
questions on the causes of variation ought to have been sent
you, Whether I am right or wrong in these points is quite a
separate question, but the conclusion which I have come to,
quite independently of geographical distribution, is that ex-
ternal conditions (to which naturalists so often appeal) do by
themselves very éi/tfe, How much they do is the point of all
others on which I feel myself very weak. I judge from the
facts of variation under domestication, and I may yet get
more light, But at present, after drawing up a rough copy”
‘on this subject, my conclusion is that external conditions do
extremely little, except in causing mere variability. This
mere variability (causing the child not closely to resemble its
parent) I look at as very different from the formation of a
marked variety or new species. (No doubt the variability is
governed by laws, some of which IT am endeavouring very
obscurely to trace.) The formation of a strong variety or
species I Jook at as almost wholly due to the selection of what
may be incorrectly called chance variations or variability.
‘This power of selection stands in the most direct relation to
time, and in the state of nature can be only excessively slow.
Again, the slight differences selected, by which a race or spe-
cies is at last formed, stands, as I think can be shown (even
with plants, and obviously with animals), in u far more im-
portant relation to its associates than to external conditions.
‘Therefore, according to my principles, whether right or wrong,
1 cannot agree with your proposition that time, and altered
conditions, and altered associates, are “convertible terms."
Tlook at the first and the last as far more important: time
‘Deing important only so far as giving scope to selection. God
knows whether you will perceive at what { am driving, T
shall have to discuss and think more about your difficulty of
the temperate and sub-urctic forms in the 8, hemisphere than
Thayve yet done. But I am inclined to think that I am right
(if my general principles aré right), that there would be little
tendency to the formation of a new species, during the period
of migration, whether shorter or longer, though considerable
variability may have supervened. . . .
46 THE UNFINISHED BOOK.
©. Darwin te J. D. Hooker,
Dec. syth [3836].
« . . How Ido wish I lived near you to discuss matters
with, Ihave just been comparing definitions of species, and
stating briefly how systematic naturalists work out their sube
jects. Aquilegia in the Flora Indica was a capital example
for me. It is really laughable to see what different ideas are
promisent in various naturalists’ minds, when they speak of
“species ;" in some, resemblance is everything and descent
of little weight—in some, resemblance seems 10 yo for noth=
ing, and Creation the reigning idea—in some, descent is the
key,—in some, sterility an unfailing test, with others it is mot
worth a farthing. It all comes, I believe, from trying to de-
fine the undefinable. i suppose you have lost the odd black
sced (rom the birds’ dung, which germinated,—anyhow, it is
‘not worth taking trouble over, 1 have now got about a dozen
sceds out of small birds’ dung. Adios,
My dear Hooker, ever yours,
C, Danwm,
C. Darwin to Asa Gray,
Down, Jam, tit [£857 2}.
My peax De Grav,—t have received the second part of
your paper,* and though T have nothing particular to eay, T
oust send you my thanks and hearty admiration, The whole
paper strikes me as quite exhausting the subject, and T quite
fancy and flatter myself I now appreciate the character of
your Flora, What a difference in regard to Europe your re-
mark in relation to the genera makes! I have been eminently
glad to see your conclusion in regard to the species of large
genera widely ranging; it is in strict conformity with the re-
sults T have worked out in several ways. It is ef great Impor-
tance to my notions, By the way you have paid me a gread
* ‘Statistics of the Flora of the Nonheen U. States,’ Sitiman’s Jour.
nal, 1857
#857) TREES AND SHRUBS. aay
compliment :* to be simpy mentioned even in such a paper
I consider a very great honour. One of your conclusions
makes me groan, viz,, that the linc of connection of the strictly
alpine plants is through Greenland. I should extremely like
to see your reasons published in detail, for it " riles” me (this
is a proper expression, ix it not?) dreadfully, Lyell told me,
that Agassiz having a theory about when Saurians were first
erexted, on hearing some careful observations opposed to this,
said he did not believe it, “for Nature never lied." Tam just
in this predicament, and repeat to you that, “ Nature never
lies,” ergo, theorisers are always right. . . .
Overworked us you are, I dare say you will say that Iam
an odious plague; but here is another suggestion! I was led
by one of my wild speculations to conclude (though it has
nothing to do with geographical distribution, yet it has with
your statistics) that trees would have a strong tendency to
have flowers with diexcious, moncecious or polygamous struct=
ure, Seeing that this seemed so in Persoon, I took one little
British Flora, and discriminating trees from bushes according
toLoudon, I have found that the result was in species, genera
and families, as I anticipated. So I sent my notions to Hooker
to ask him to tabulate the New Zealand Flora for this end,
and he thought my result sufficiently curious, to do so; and
the accordance with Britain is very striking, and the more sa,
as he made three classes of trees, bushes, and herbaceous
plants, (He says further he shall work the ‘Tasmanian Flora
on the same principle.) The bushes hold an intermediate
position between the other two classes. It seems to mea
curious relation in itself, and is very much s0, if my theory
and explanation are correct.
With hearty thanks, your most troublesome friend,
C. Danwin.
+ °From some Investigations of his own, this sagacious naturalist ine
lines to think that [ihe spedies of] Tange genera range over a larger area
ies of small genera do." —Asa Gray, log. af
{See ‘Origin,’ Ed. iy p. 100.
“as THE UNFINISHED BOOK.
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, April ath (2857),
My peak Hookrr,—Your letter has pleased me much,
for I never can get it out of my bead, that J wake unfair
advantage of your kindness, as 1 receive all and give nothing.
What a splendid discussion you could write on the whole
subject of variation! ‘The cases discussed in your last note
are valuable to me (though odious and damnable), as showing
how profoundly ignorant we are on the causes of variation.
T shall just allude to these cases, as a sort of sub-division
of polymorphism a little more definite, £ fancy, than the
vuriation of, for instance, the Rubi, and equally or more per-
plexing.
Thave just been putting my notes together on variations
apparently duc to the immediate and direct action of external
causes; and I have been struck with ong result. The most
firm sticklers for independent creation admit, that the fur of
the soave species is thinner towards the south of the range of
the same species than to the north=-that the same shells are
brighter-coloured to the south than north; that the same
[shell] is paler-coloured in deep water—that insects are smaller
and darker on mountains—more livid and testaccous near sea
—that plants are smaller and more hairy and with brighter
flowers on mountains: now in all such, and other cases, dis-
tinct species in the two zones follow the same nile, which
seems to me to be most simply explained by species, being
only strongly marked varieties, and therefore following the
same laws as recognised and admitted varieties, mention
all this on account of the variation of plants in ascending:
mountains ; T have quoted the foregoing remark only gener-
ally with no examples, for I add, there is so much doubt and
dispute what to call varieties; but yet I have stambled on so
many casual remarks on surietics of plants on mountains
being 0 characterised, that I presume there is some truth in
it. What think you? Do you believe there is amp tendency
in varisties, as generally so called, of plants to become more
853] WATER-CURE, 449
hairy and with proportionally larger and brighter-coloured
flowers in ascending a mountain ?
Ihave been interested in my “ weed garden,” of 3X2 fect
square: I mark each seedling as it appears, and I am
astonished at the number that come up, and still more at
the number killed by slugs, &c. Already s9 have been so
killed ; T expected a good many, but I had fancied that this
was a less potent check than it seems to be, and I attributed
almost exclusively to mere choking, the destruction of the
seedlings, Grassseedlings seem to suffer much less than
exogens. . . .
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
‘Moor Park, Faroham [April (7) 1837].
My pear Hooker,—Your letter has been forwarded to
me here, where 1 am undergoing hydropathy for a fortnight,
having been here a week, and having already received an
amount of good which is quite incredible to myself and quite
unaccountable. ‘Tcan walk and eat like a hearty Christian,
and even my nights are good, I cannot in the least under-
stand how hydropathy can act as it certainly does on me.
Tt dulls one's brain splendidly ; I have not thought about
asingle species of any kind since leaving home. Your note
has taken me aback ; I thought the hairiness, &e., of Alpine
spectes was generally admitted; I am sure I have seen it
alladed to a score of times Falconer was haranguing on it
the other day to me Meyen or Gay, or some such fellow
(whom you would despise), I remember, makes some remark
on Chilian Cordillera plants, Wimmer has written a little book
‘on the same lines, and on varieticr being so characterised in
the Alps. But after writing to you, I confess 1 was staggered
by finding one man (Moquin-Tandon, I think) saying that
Alpine flowers are strongly inclined to be white, and Linnweus
saying that cold makes plants afefafows, even the same
cies! Are Arctic plants often apetalous? My general
belief from my compiling work is quite to agree with what
450 THE UNFINISHED BOOK. [eter
you say about the little direct influence of climate; and I
have just alluded to the hairiness of Alpine plants as an ex
eeption. The odoriferousness would be a good ease for me if
I knew of ravieties being more odoriferous in dry habitats.
I fear that I have looked at the hairiness of Alpine plants
as so gencrally acknowledged that I have not marked pas
sages, so as at all to see what kind of evidence authors ad-
vance. T must confess, the other day, when Dasked Faleonér,
whether he knew of fadizvdual plants losing or acquiring hairs
ness when transported, he did not. But now Abie secomd, my
memory flashes on me, and { am certain I have somewhere
got marked a case of hairy plants from the Pyrenees losing
hairs when cultivated at Montpellier, Shall you think me
very impudent if I tell you that I have sometimes thought
that (quite independently of the present case), you are a litte
too hard on bad observers; that a remark made bya bad
observer csmnot be right; an observer who deserves to be
damned you would utterly damn, 1 feel entire deference
to any remark you make out of your own head ; but when in
opposition to some poor devil, somehow involuntarily feel
not quite so much, but yet much deference for your opinion.
T do not know in the least whether there is any truth in this
my criticism against you, but I have often thought I would
tell you it.
Tam really very much obliged fer your letter, for, though
1 intended to put only one sentence and that vaguely, E should
probably hare put that much too strongly.
Ever, my dear Hooker, yours most tnaly,
C. Danwix,
P.S. This note, as you see, has not anything requiring an
answer,
‘The distribution of fresh-water molluscs has been = horrid
incubus to me, but T think T know my way now; whea
first hatched they are very active, and 1 have bad thirty
or forty crawl on a dead duck’s foot; and they exnnot be
jerked off, and will live fifteen and even twenty-four hours
‘out of water,
3857) NOVARA EXPEDITION. ast
[‘The following letter refers to the expedition of the Aus-
trian frigate Novara; Lyell had asked my father for sugues-
tions.)
C. Darwin to C, Lyet.
Down, Feb, 1th (1857).
My near Lye1,—T was glad to see in the newspapers
about the Austrian Expedition, T have nothing to add. geolo»
givally to my notes in the Manual.* I donot know whether
the Expedition is tied down to call at only fixed spots. But
if there be any choice or power in. the scientific men to
influence the places—this would be most desirable, It is my
most deliberate conviction that nothing would aid more,
Natural History, than careful collecting and investigating ai
the productions of the most isolated islands, especially of the
southern hemisphere, Except Tristan d'Acunha and Ker-
guelen Land, they are very imperfectly known; and even at
Kerguelen Land, how much there is to make out about the
lignite beds, and whether there ate signs of old Glacial action.
Every sea shell and insect and plant is of value from such
spots. Some onc in the Expedition especially ought to have
Hooker's New Zealand Essay, What grand work to explore
Rodrigues, with its fossil birds, and little known productions
of every kind, Again the Scychelles, which, with the Cocos
so near, must be a remnant of some older land, ‘The outer
island of Juan Fernandez is little known. ‘The investigation
cof these little spots by a band of naturalists would be grand;
St Paul's and Amsterdam would he glorious, botanically,
and geologically. Can you not recommend them to get my
“Journal and ‘ Volcanic Telands” on account of the Galapa-
gos. -If they come from the north it will be ashame and &
sin if they do not call at Cozos Islet, one of the Galapagos.
T always regretted that Twas not able to examine the great
* The article “Geology in the Adiniealty Manual of Seientifie Ene
quiry,
452 THE UNFINISHED BOOK. Bsr
craters on Albemarle Island, one of the Galapagos, In New
Zealand urge on them to look out for erratic boulders and
marks of old glaciers
Urge the use of the dredge in the Tropics; how little or
nothing we know of the limit of life dowaward in the hot
acas?
My present work leads me to perceive how much the
domestic animals have been neglected in out of the way
countries,
The Revillagigedo Island off Mexico, I believe, bas never
been trodden by foot of naturalist
If the expedition sticks to such places as Rio, Cape of
Good Hope, Ceylon and Australia, &c,, it will not do much,
Ever yours most truly,
Cc. Darwin.
[The following passage occurs in a letter 10 Mr, Fox, Feb
ruary 1857, and has reference to the book on Evolution
on which he was still at work. ‘The remainder of the letter
is made up in details of no interest :
“Tam got most deeply interested in my subject: though
I wish I could set less value on the bauble fame, either present
or posthumous, than I do, but not I think, to any extreme
degree ; yet, if T know myself, 1 would work just as hard,
though with less gusto, if I knew that my book would be putbe
lished for ever anonymously."}
C. Darwin to A. R. Wallace,
Mose Park, May tut, 1857.
My pea Sin,—I am much obliged for your letter of
October reth. from Celebes, received a few days ago; in a
laborious undertaking, sympathy is a valuable and real en-
couragement, By your letter and even still more by your
1857] ARGUMENT FROM DOMESTICATION, 453
paper* in the Annals, a year or more ago, I can plainly see
that we have thought much alike and to a certain extent have
come to similar conclusions, In regard to the Paper in the
Annals, I agree to the truth of almost every word of your
paper; and I dare say that you will agree with me that it is
very rare to find oneself agreeing pretty closely with any
theoretical paper; for it is lamentable how each man draws
his own different conclusions from the very same facts. This
summer will inake the 2oth year (1) since [ opened my first
note-book, on the question how and in what way do species
and varieties differ from each other. I am now preparing my
work for publication, but I find the subject so very large, that
though I have written many chapters, I do not suppose I shall
go to press for two years. Ihave never heard how long you
intend staying in the Malay Archipelago; I wish I might
profit by the publication af your Travels there before my
work appears, for no doubt you will reap a large harvest of
facts, I have acted already in accordance with your advice
of keeping domestic varieties, and those appearing in a state
of nature, distinct ; but I have sometimes doubted of the
wisdom of this, and therefore I am glad to be backed by your
opinion, I must confess, however, I rather doubt the truth
of the now very prevalent doctrine of all our domestic animals
having descended from several wild stocks; though I do not
doubt that it is so in some cases, I think there is rather
better evidence on the sterility of hybrid animals than you
seem to admit: and in regard to plants the collection of
carefully recorded facts by Kélreuter and Gaertner (and
Herbert] is enormous. 1 most entirely agree with you on the
little effects of “ climatal conditions,” which one sees referred
to ad nauseam in all books : I suppose some very little effect
must be attributed to such influences, but I fully believe that
they are very slight. Tt is really émpossible to explain my
views (in the compass of a letter), on the causes and means
On the law that has reyulated the introduction of new species.'—
‘Ann, Nat. Hist., 1855,
484 THE UNFINISHED BOOK, De
of variation in a state of nature; but I have slowly adopted »
stinct and tangible idea,—whether truc or false others mrust
judge ; for the firmest conviction of the truth of a doctrine by
its author, seems, alas, not to be the slightest guarantee of
truth?
C. Darwin t J. D. Hoaker.
‘Moor Park, Saturday [May and. 2857)
My pear Hooken,—You have shaved the hair off the
Alpine plants pretty effectually. The case of the Anthyllis
will make a “tie” with the believed case of Pyrenees plants
becoming glabrous at low levels, If 1 de find that I have
marked such facts, 1 will lay the evidence before you. T
wonder how the belief could have originated ! Was it through
final causes to keep the plants warm? Faleoner in tall
coupled the two facts of woolly Alpine plants and mammals
How candidly and meekly you took my Jeremiad oa your
severity to second-class men. After I hae sent it off, an ughy
Tittle voice asked me, once or twice, how much of my noble
defence of the poor in spirit and in fact, was owing to your
having not seldom smashed favourite notions of my own. I
silenced the ugly little voice with contempt, but it would
whisper again and again, I sometimes despise myself as a
poor compiler as heartily as you could de, though I do met
despise my whole work, as I think there is enough known to
lay a foundation for the discussion on the origin of species.
T have been led to despise and laugh at myself as 2 compiler,
for having put down that " Alpine plants have large flowers,”
and now perhaps I may write over these very words, “Alpine
plants have small or apetalous flowers!
© Darwin ta J. D. Hooker.
Down, [May] 16th [x889}.
My near Hooxer,—You stid—I hope honestly—that
you did not dislike my asking questions on general points,
you of course answering or not as time or inclination might
1857.) | VARIABILITY, : 455
setve. 1 find in the animal kingdom that the proposition
that any part or organ developed normally (f, ¢,, not a mon-
strosity) in a species in any Aigh or wnusuat degree, compared
with the same part or organ in allied species, tends to be
Aighly variable, 1 cannot doubt this from my mass of col-
lected facts, To give an instance, the Cross-bill is very abs
‘normal in the structure of its bill compared with other allied
Fringillide, and the beak is eminently nariatle, ‘The Himan-
topus, remarkable from the wonderful length of its legs, is
very variable in the length of its legs. I could give many
most striking and curious illustrations in all classes; so many
that I think it cannot be chance, But I have some in the
vegetable kingdom, owing, as I believe, to my ignorance. If
Nepenthes consisted of ane or two species in a group with
a pitcher developed, then I should have expected it to have
been very variable ; but I do not consider Nepenthes a ease
in point, for when a whole genus or group has an organ,
however anomalous, I do not expect it to be variable,—it is
‘only when one or few species ditfer greatly in some one part
‘or organ from the forms c/asely allied to it in all other re=
spects, that I believe such part or organ to be highly variable.
Will you turn this in your mind? it is an important apparent
daw (!) for me,
Ever yours,
C. Darwrx,
P.S.—I do not know how far you will care to hear, but
T find Moquin-Tandon treats in his ‘ Tératologic’ on villosity
‘of plants, and seems to attribute more to dryness than alti-
tude; but seems to think that it must be admitted that
mountain plants are villose, and that this villosity is only
in part explained by De Candolle's remark that the dwarfed
condition of mountain plants would condense the hairs, and
80 give them the appearance of being more hairy, He quotes
Senebier, ‘Physiologie Végetale,’ as authority—I suppose the
first authority, for mountain plants being hairy.
If I could show positively that the endemic species were
450 THE UNFINISHED BOOK,
more hairy in dry districts, then the case of the warietios
becoming more hairy in dry ground would be a fact for
me.
C Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, Jane 3rd [1857].
My pear Hooksr,—I am going to enjoy myself by
having a prose on my own subjects to you, and this is a
greater enjoyment to me than you will readily anderstand, as
I for months together do not open my mouth on Natural
History, Your letter is of great value to me, and staggers me
in regard to my proposition, I dare say the absence of bo~
tanical facts may in part be accounted for by the difficulty
of measuring slight variations. Indeed, after writing, this
occurred to me; for I have Crucianelia sfplose cominy into
flower, and the pistil ought to be very variable in length, and
thinking of this T at once felt how could one judge whether it
was variable in any high degree. How different, for instance,
from the beak of a bird! But Iam not satisfied with this
explanation, and am staggered, Yet I think there is some=
thing in the Jaw; T have had so many instances, a8 the follow=
ing: T wrote to Wollaston to ask him to run through the Ma~
deira Beetles and tell me whether any one presented anything
very anomalous in relation to its allies. He gave me a unique
case of an enormous head in a female, and then I found in
his book, already stated, that the size of the head was exter
thingly variable. Part of the difference with plants may be
accounted for by many of my cases being secondary male or
female characters, but then T have striking cases with here
maphrodite Cirripedes, “The cases seem to me Tar too numer
ous for accidental coincidences, of great variability and aly
normal development. I presume that you will not object to
my putting a note saying that you had reflected over the case,
and though one or two cases seemed to support, quite as many
or more seemed wholly contradictory. ‘This want of evidence
1857] VARIABILITY. 457
is the more surprising to me, as generally I find any propos
sition more easily tested by observations in botanical works,
which I have picked up, than in zoological works, I never
dreamed that you had kept the subject at all before your
mind, Altogether the case is one more of my many horrid
puzzles, My observations, though on so infinitely a small
scale, on the struggle for existence, begin to make me see a
little clearer how the fight goes on, Out of sixteen kinds of
seed sown on my meadow, fifteen have germinated, but now
they are perishing at such a rate that I doubt whether more
than one will flower. Here we have choking which has taken
place likewise on a great scale, with plants not seedlings, in
a bit of my lawn allowed to grow up. On the other hand, in
a bit of ground, 2 by g feet, L have daily marked each seed-
ling weed as it has appeared during March, April and May,
and 357 have come up, and of these 277 have already been
killed, chiefly by slugs. By the way, at Moor Park, 1 saw
rather a pretty case of the effects of animals on vegetation :
there are cnormous commons with clumps of old Scoteh firs
on the hills, and about cight or ten years ago some of these
commons were enclosed, and all round the clumps nice young
trees are springing up by the million, looking exactly as if
planted, so many are of the same age. In other parts of the
common, not yet enclosed, t looked for miles and not one
young tree could be seen. {then went near (within quarter
of a mile of the clumps) and looked closely in the heather,
and there I found tens of thousands of young Scotch firs
(thirty in on¢ square yard) with their tops nibbled off by the
few cattle which occasionally roam over these wretched heaths,
One little tree, three inches high, by the rings appeared to be
twonty-six years old, with a short stem about as thick as a
stick of sealing-wax, What a wondrous problem it is, what
a play of forces, determining the kind and proportion of each
plant in a square yard of turf! It is to my mind truly won
derful, And yct we are pleased to wonder when some animal
or plant hecomes extinct.
Tam so sorry that you will not be at the Club, T sce Mrs
so
458 THE UNFINISHED BOOK.
Hooker is going to Yarmouth ; 1 trust that the health of your
children is not the motive. Good-bye.
My dear Hooker, ever yours,
C. Danwix,
P,S.—I believe you are afraid to send mea ripe Edwardsia
pod, for fear I should float it from New Zealand to Chile ff
C. Darwin to J.D. Hooker,
Down, June 5 [1857}-
Mr prax Hooxxs,—I honour your conscientious eare
about the medals.” Thank God! 1 am only am amateur (but
a much interested one) on the subject.
It is an old notion of mine that more good is done by
giving medals to younger men in the early part of their
career, than as a mete reward to men whose seientifie career
is nearly finished. Whether medals ever do any good is 4
question which does not concern us, as there the medals are.
1am almost inclined to think that 1 would rather lower the
standard, and give medals to young workers than to old
‘ones with no expecial claims. With regard to especial elaines,
I think it just deserving your attention, that if general claims
are once admitted, it opens the door to great laxity in giving:
them, ‘Think of the case of a very rich man, who aided seledy
with his money, but to a grand extent—or such an inconeeky-
able prodigy as a minister of the Crown who really cared for
science. Would you give such men medals? Perhaps
medals could not be better applied than exelusivedy to such
men. I confess at present I incline to stick to especial claims
which can be put down on paper. . «
Tam much confounded by your showing that there sre
not obvious instances of my (or rather Waterhouse’s) law of
abnormal developments being highly variable. [have been
thinking more of your remark about the difficulty of judging
© The Royal Society's metals,
1857] VARIABILITY. 459
‘or comparing variability in plants from the great general
variability of parts. I should look at the law as more com=
pletely smashed if you would turn in your mind for a litte
while for cases of great variability of an organ, and tell me
whether it is moderately easy to pick out such cases; for ef
they can be picked out, and, notwithstanding, do not coincide
with great or abnormal development, it would be a complete
smasher. It is only beginning in your mind at the variability
end of the question instead of at the abnormality end. Per~
Aaps cases in which a part is highly variable in all the species
of a group should be excluded, as possibly being something
distinct, and connected.with the perplexing subject of poly-
morphism, Will you perfect your assistance by further con-
sidering, for a little, the subject this way ?
Thave been so much interested this morning in comparing
all my notes on the variation of the several species of the
geous Equus and the results of their crossing. ‘Taking most
strictly analogous facts amongst the blessed pigeons for my
guide, I believe T can plainly see the colouring and marks of
the grandfather of the Ass, Horse, Quagga, Hemionus and
Zebra, some millions of generations ago! Should not I
[have] sncerfed] at any one who made such a remark to me
a few years ago; but my evidence seems to me so good that
T shall publish my vision at the end of my little discussion on
this genus,
Thave of late inundated you with my notions, you best of
friends and philosophers.
Adion,
C. Danwim.
©. Darwin ts J, B, Hooker.
Moor Park, Farnham, June 25th (1853).
My Dear Hooxer,—This requires no answer, but I will
ask you whenever we meet, Look at enclosed seedling gorses,
especially one with the top knocked off. ‘The leaves suc-
ceeding the cotyledons being almost clover-like in shape,
sho THE UNFINISHED BOOK.
Seems to me feebly analogous to embryonic resemblances in
young animals, as, for instance, the young lion being striped.
I shall ask you whether this is 50.".
Dr. Lane} and wile, and mother-indaw, Laily Drysdale,
ate some of the nicest people T have ever met,
I retarn bome on the goth. Good-bye, my dear Hooker,
[Here follows a group of letters, of various dates, bearing
‘on the question of large gepera varying-)
C. Darwin tw J. D. Hooker.
March exth (3898),
Iwas led to all this work by a remark of Fries, that the
species in large genera were more closely related to each
other than in small genera; and if this were so, seeing that
varieties and species are so hardly distinguishable, I concluded
that I should find more varieties in the large genera than in
the small, ... Some day T hope you will read my short
discussion on the whole subject. You have done me infinite
service, whatever opinion I come to, in drawing my attention
toat least the possibility or the probability of botanists record=
ing more varieties in the large than in the small genera. It
will be hard work for me to be candid in coming to my con
clusion.
Ever yours, most truly,
C. Danwos,
P, SI shall be several weeks at my present job, The
work has been turning out badly for me this morning, and 1
am sick at heart; and, oh! how I do hate species and varieties,
Power of Morement in Plants" p. 414
{ The physician at Moor Park.
1857.) LARGE GENERA VARYING. 460
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
July rath [18577].
. + « L write now to supplicate mont earnestly a favour,
viz, the loan of Boreau, Mlore du centre de la France, either
ast or 2nd edition, last best ; also “Flora Ratisbonensis,” by
Dr. Firnrohr, in ‘Naturhist. Topographic von Regensburg,
1839," If you can possibly spare them, will you send them at
once to the enclosed address. If you have not them, will
you send one line by return of post: as I must try whether
Kippist * can anyhow find them, which 1 fear will be nearly
impossible in the Linnean Library, in which 1 know they are,
Ihave been making some calculations about varieties, &c.,
and talking yesterday with Lubbock, he has pointed out to
me the grossest blunder which I have made in principle, and
which entails two or three weeks’ lost work; and Tam ata
dead-lock (ill have these books to go over again, and see
what the result of calculation on the right principle is, Tam
the most miserable, bemuddled, stupid dog in all England,
and am ready to cry with vexation at my blindness and
presumption.
Ever yours, most miserably,
C. Darwin,
C. Darwin to John Lubbock,
. Down, [July] 14th [:857}.
My rar Lvnsock,—You have done me the greatest
possible service in helping me to clarify my brains. If 1 am
a muzzy on all subjects as Iam on proportion and chance,
—what a book I shall produce!
Thave divided the New Zealand Flora as you suggested.
‘There are 329 species in genera of 4 and upwards, and 323 in
genera of 3 and less,
"The Inte Me. Kippist was at this time in charge of the Linnean
Society's Library
462 THE UNFINISHED BOOK.
‘The 339 species have 51 species presenting one or more
varieties. The 323 species have only 37. Proportionately
(339 : 323 :: 51: 48's) they ought to have had 48} species
presenting vars. So that the case goes as I want it, but not
strong enough, without it be general, for me to have mach
confidence in, Tam quite convinced yours is the right way;
Thad thought of it, but should never have done it had it not
been for my most fortunate conversation with you.
Lam quite shocked to find how easily I am muddled, for
Thad before thought over the subject much, and concluded
my way was fair, It is dreadfully erroneous,
What a disgraceful blunder you have saved me from, 1
heartily thank you.
Ever yours,
C. Danwin,
P.S.—It is enough to make me tear up all my MS. and
give up in despair,
It will take me several weeks to go over all my materials.
But oh, if you knew how thankful 1 am to you!
C Darwin wo J. D. Hooker,
Dows, Aug, [1947].
My pra Hooxen,—It is horrid bore you cannot come
soon, and I reproach myself that I did not write sooner,
How busy you must be! with such a heap of botanists at
Kew, Only think, I have just had a letter from Henslow,
saying he will come here between trth and ssth! Is mot
that grand? Many thanks about Firarobr. 1 must humbly
supplicate Kippist to seareh for it: he most kindly got Bo
reaut for me.
Tam got extremely interested in tabulating, according to.
mere size of genera, the species having any varieties marked
by Greek lotters of otherwise; the result (as far as I have yet
gone) seems ta me one of the most important arguments T
have yet met with, that varieties are only small species—or
i857 LARGE GENERA VARYING. 463
species only strongly marked varietics. ‘he subject is in
many ways s0 very important for me; Twish much you would
think of any well-worked Floras with from 1000-2000 species,
with the varieties marked, It is good to have hair-splitters
and lumpers.* I have done, or am doing —
Bebington 5s
Henlow » t Beitish Flor,
London Catalogue, H.C. Watson)
Boreau , . ’ - France.
Miquel... + Holland,
AsaGmy 1) NLU, States
JN. Zealand.
{Fragment of indian Flora,
Wollaston =... Madeira insects,
Hooker .
Has not Koch published a good German Flora? Does
he mark varieties? Could you send it me? Is there not
some grand Russian Flora, which perhaps has varieties
marked? The Floras ought to be well known,
Tam in no hurry for a few weeks, Will you turn this in
your head when, if ever, you have leisure? The subject ix
very important for my work, though I clearly see many causes
of error...
C. Darwin to Asa Gray.
Down, Feb. aist [1859].
My prar Grav,—My last letter begged no favour, this
one does: but it will really cost you very little trouble to
answer to me, and it will be of very greaf service to me, owing
to a remark made to me by Hooker, which I cannot credit,
and which was suggested to him by one of my letters. He
suggested my asking you, and I told him I would not give
the least hint what he thought, I generally believe Hooker
* Those who make many species are the "splitters," and those who
make few are the “Iumpers.”
THE UNFINISHED
implicitly, but he is sometimes, 1 thiak, ac r
rather over critical, and his ingenuity in
seems to me admirable. Here is my question —
think that good botanists in drawing up alocal Flora,
small or large, or in making a Prodromus like De Can
would almost universally, but unintentionally and uncor
and giving short characters) varieties io the langeor dnl
small genera? Or would the tendency be to record the ¥i
rieties about equally in gencra of all sizes? Are you you)
sclf conscious on reflection thar you have attended to, a6)
recorded more carefully the varieties in large or small, or ver
small genera?" |
1 know what fleeting and trifling things varieties very ofter
are; but my query applies to such as have been though)
worth marking and recording. If you could serew time |
send me ever so brief an answer to this, pretty soon, bie |
be a great service to me,
‘Yours most truly obliged,
Cu, Darwin,
P. §—Do you know whether any one has ever published
any remarks on the geographical range of varieties of plants
in comparison with the species to which they afe supposed to
belong? [ have in vain tried to get some vague idea, and
with the exception of a little information on this head
me by Mr. Watson ina paper on Land Shells in UW. States,
have quite failed ; but perhaps it would be difficult for you
to give me even a brief answer on this head, and if so T am
not so unreasonable, J assure yon, as 10 expect ite
If you are writing to England soon, you could enclos¢
other letters [for] me to forward,
Please observe the question is not whether there are more
er varieties in larger or smaller genera, but whether
‘tronger or Weaker tendency in the minds of bota-
nists to record such in large or small genera.
1858] LARGE GENERA VARYING. 465
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, May 6th [1858].
. . « Isend by this post my MS, on the “commonness,"*
range," and “variation” of species in large and small gen-
em. You have undertaken a horrid job in so very kindly
offering to read it, and I thank you warmly, I have just cor-
rected the copy, and am disappointed in finding how tough
and obscure it is; but { cannot make it clearer, and at pres-
ent 1 loathe the very sight of it. ‘The style of course requires
further correction, and if published I must try, but as yet see
not how, to make it clearer. :
If you have much to say and can have patience to con-
sider the whole subject, I would meet you in London on the
Phil. Club day, so as to save you the trouble of writing. For
Heaven's sake, you stern and awful judge and sceptic, re-
member that my conclusions may be true, notwithstanding
that Botanists may have recorded more varieties in large than
fn small genera. It scems to me a mere balancing of proba-
bilities. Again I thank you most sincerely, but I fear you
will find it a horrid job.
Ever yours,
©. Danwin,
P,S.—As usual, Hydropathy has made a man of me for a
short time; I hope the sea will do Mrs. Hooker much good,
C. Darwin to A. R. Wallace.
Down, Dec. 23nd, 1857,
My pear Sim,—t thank you for your letter of Sept. 27th.
Tam extremely glad to hear that you are attending to distri-
Dution in accordance with theoretical ideas, I am a firm be-
Jiever that without speculation there is no good and original
observation, Few travellers have attended to such points as
you are now at work on; and, indeed, the whole subject of
istribution of animals is dreadfully behind that of plants.
a
58) CONTINENTAL EXTENSION, 7
subefossil. In the Pacific Islands there are cases of identity,
which I cannot at present persuade myself to account for by
introduction through man’s agency ; although Dr, Aug, Gould
has conclusively shown that many land-shells have thus been
distributed over the Pacific by man's agency. These cases of
introduction are most plaguing, Have you not found it so in
the Malay Archipclago? It has seemed to me in the lists of
mammals of Timor and other islands, that severad in all prob-
ability have been naturalised... .
You ask whether I shall discuss “man.” 1 think I shall
avoid the whole subject, as so surrounded with prejudices ;
though I fully admit that it is the highest and most interesting
problem for the naturalist. My work, on which I have now
been at work more or less for twenty years, will not fix or
settle anything; but I hope it will aid by giving a large col
lection of facts, with one definite end. I get on very slowly,
partly from ill-health, partly from being a very slow worker,
Thave got about half written ; but I do not suppose I shall
published under a couple of years. I have now been three
whole months on one chapter on Hybridism!
1am astonished to see that you expect to remain out three
ot four years more, What a wonderful deal you will have
seen, and what interesting areas—the grand Malay Archie
pelago and the richest parts of South America! I infinitely
admire and honour your zeal and courage in the goad cause
of Natural Science ; and you have my very sincere and cordial
good wishes for success of all kinds, and may all your theories
succeed, except that on Oceanic Islands, on which subject I
will do battle to the death.
Pray believe me, my dear sir, yours very sincerely,
C, Darwin,
C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.
Feb, &th 1858}.
«+, Lam working very hard at my book, perhaps too
hard, It will be very big, and I am become most deeply
interested in the way facts fall into groups. Tam like Croesus
book as perfect aseverIcan, I
est for a couple of years. . .
©, Darsein te J.D, Hester.
‘Fes aynd [18
+» + 1 was not much struck with the great been yr
admired the way you stuck up about deduction ; i
tion, I am reading his book,® which, with mueh sophistry,
as it seems to me, is wonderfully clever and original, and with
astounding knowledge, . ;
Isaw that you admired Mrs, Farret’s ‘Questa tomba’ of
Beethoven thoroughly ; there is something grand in her sweet
tones.
Farewell. I have partly written this note to drive bee's:
celts out of my head ; for 1 am half-mad on the subject to
try to make out some simple steps from which all the won
drous angles may result. 5:
I was very glad to see Mrs, Hooker on Friday; how well
she appears to be and looks.
Forgive your intolerable but affectionate friend,
C, Darwin.
©. Darwin to WD, Fox. ¥
~ Down, April sbth [#858].
My pear Fox,—1 want you to observe ane point for me,
on which 1 am extremely much interested, and which will give
you no trouble beyond keeping your eyes open, and that is a
habit { know full well that you have.
I find horses of various colours often have a spinal band
or stripe of different and darker tint than the rest of the body;
rarely Uransverse bars on the legs, generally on the under-side
*' The Iistory of Crvilixetion.’
4 He had much correypondence on this wubject with the kate Profesor
Miller of Cambridge.
__ i
581] STRIPED HORSES, §69
of the front legs, still more rarely a very faint transverse
shoulder-stripe like an ass,
Is there any breed of Delamere forest ponies? I have
found out little about ponies in these respects. Sir P. Eger-
ton has, I believe, some quite thoroughbred chestnut horses ;
have any of them the spinal stripe? Mouse-coloured ponies,
or rather small horses, often have spinal and leg bars. So
have dun horses (by dun I mean real colour of cream mixed
with brown, bay, or chestnut). So have sometimes chestnuts,
‘but I have not yet got a case of spinal stripe in chestnut, race
horse, or in quite heavy cart-horse, Any fact of this nature
of such stripes in horses would be most useful to me, There
is a parallel case in the legs of the donkey, and T have col-
lected some most curious cases of stripes appearing in va-
rious crossed equine animals, I have also a large mass of
parallel facts in the breeds of pigeons about the wing bars,
I suspect it will throw light on the colour of the primeval
horse, So do help me if occasion turns up... . My health
has been lately very bad from overwork, and on Tuesday I go
for a fortnight’s hydropathy. My work is everlasting. Fare-
well,
My dear Fox, I trust you are well. Farewell,
C. Darwin.
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Moor Park, Farnham [April 26tb, 1848).
T have just had the innermost cockles of my heart
rejoiced by a letter from Lyell. I said to him (or he to me)
that I believed from the character of the flora of the Azores,
that icebergs must have been stranded there; and that I ex=
pected erratic boulders would be detected embedded between
the upheaved lava-beds ; and I got Lyell to write to Hartung
to ask, and now H. says my question explains what had
astounded him, viz, large boulders (and some polished) of
mica-schist, quartz, sandstone, &e., some embedded, and some
49 and go fect above the level of the sea, so that he had
inferred that they had pot been brought
not beautiful ?
The water-cure ba done me some good, ae
©. Darwin to C. Eyell.
Moor Pari, Farnham, April 26th [rst
My pean Lveut,—I have come here for a fortnight’
hydropathy, as my stomach had got, from steady
horrid state, I am extremely much obliged to you for sends
ing me Hartung’s interesting letter. The erratic boulders are
splendid. It is a grand case of floating ice versus glaciers
He ought to have compared the northern and southern shores
of the islands. Jt is eminently interesting to me, for I have
written a very long chapter on the subject, collecting briefly
all the geological evidence of glacial action in different
of the world, and then at great length (on the theory of spe
cies changing) I have discussed the migration and modifica-
tion of plants and animals, in sea and land, over a large part
of the world. To my mind, it throws a flood of light on the
whole subject of distribution, if combined with the modifica:
tion of species, Indeed, I venture to speak with some Jitihe
confidence on this, for Hooker, about a year ago, kindly read:
over my chapter, and though he then demurred gravely to
the general conclusion, I was delighted to heara week Or two
ago that he was inclined to come round pretty strongly 16 my
views of distribution and change during the glacial period. 1
had a letter from Thompson, of Calcutta, the other day,
which helps me much, as he is making out for me what heat
our temperate*plants can endure. But it is too long a sub>
ject for a note; and I have written thus only because Blare
tung’s note has set the whole subject afloat is my mind.
again, But 1 will write no more, for my object here i to
think about nothing, bathe much, walk much, eat much, and
___
1858.) KOSSUTH. 4yt
read much novels. Farewell, with many thanks, and very
kind remembrance to Lady Lyell.
Ever yours,
C, Darwe,
C. Darwin to Mrs. Darwin.
Moor Park, Wednesday, April (1858).
‘The weather is quite delicious. Yesterday, after writing
to you, 1 strolled a little beyond the glade for an hour and a
half, and enjoyed myself—the fresh yet darkegreen of the
grand Scotch firs, the brown of the catkins of the old birches,
with their white stems, and a fringe of distant green from the
Jarches made an excessively pretty view. At last I fell fast
asleep on the grass, and awoke with a chorus of birds singing
around me, and squirrels running up the trees, and some
woodpeckers laughing, and it was as pleasant and riral «
scene as cver 1 saw, and I did not eare one penny how any
of the beasts or birds had been formed, T sat in the drawing-
room till after eight, and then went and read the Chief Jus-
tice’s summing up, and thought Bernard * guilty, and then
read a bit of my novel, which is feminine, virtuous, elerieal,
philanthropical, and all that sort of thing, but very decidedly
flat. I say ferninine, for the author is ignorant about money
matters, and not mueh of a lady—for she makes her men say,
“My Lady.” I like Miss Craik very much, though we have
some battles, and differ on every subject. I like also the
Hongarian ; a thorough gentleman, formerly attaché at Paris,
and then in the Austrian cavalry, and now a pardoned exile,
with broken health. He does not seem to like Kossuth, but
says, he is certain [he is] a sincere patriot, most clever and
eloquent, but weak, with no determination of character. ,
* Simon Bernard was tried in April 1858 as an accessory to Orsini’s
attempt on the life of the Emperor of the French. ‘The verdict was "not
aly."
458.) ‘MR. WALLACE'S MANUSCRIPT, 473
perused in 1844, and the contents of which we had both of
us been privy to for many years. On representing this to
Mr. Darwin, he gave us permission to make what use we
thought proper of his memoir, &c.; and in adopting our
present course, of presenting it to the Linnean Society, we
have explained to him that we are not solely considering the
relative claims to priority of himself and his friend, but the
interests of science generglly.
LETTERS,
C, Darwin to ©. Lyell.
Down, 18th [June 1868].
My pear Lyeut,—Some year or so ago you recommended
‘me to read a paper by Wallace in the ‘Annals,’ * which had
interested you, and, as | was writing to him, I knew this
would please him much, so I told him, He has to-day sent
me the enclosed, and asked me to forward it to you, It seemns
to me well worth reading. Your words have come true with
@ vengeance—that I should be forestalled. You said this,
when T explained to you here very brie@y my views of * Nat-
ural Selection’ depending on the struggle for existence.
mever saw a more striking coincidence ; if Wallace had my
‘MS. sketch written out in 1842, he could not have made a
better short abstract! Even his terms now stand as heads of
my chapters, Please return me the MS., which he does not
say he wishes me to publish, but I shall of course, at once
write and offer to send to any journal. So all my originality,
whatever it may amount to, will be smashed, though my book,
if it will ever have any value, will not be deteriorated ; as all
the labour consists in the application of the theory.
I hope you will approve of Wallace's sketch, that I may
tell him what you say,
My dear Lyell, yours most truly,
Cc. Darwns,
* Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist,, 1855.
a
1358.) PRIORITY, 475
swer to Hooker to be forwarded to me, for then I shall have
the opinion of my two best and kindest friends, This letter
is miserably written, and I write it now, that I may for a
time banish the whole subject; and I am worn out with
musing «++
My good dear friend forgive me. ‘This is a trumpery let
ter, influenced by trumpery feelings,
Yours most truly,
C, Darwin,
I will never trouble you ot Hooker on the subject again.
C. Darwin to ©. Lyell,
Down, a6th [June, 1835].
My pear Lyett,—Forgive me for adding a P.S. to make
the case as strong as possible against myself.
Wallace might say, “You did not intend publishing an
abstract of your views till you received my communication,
it fair to take advantage of my having freely, though
ed, communicated to you my ideas, and thus prevent
me forestalling you?" ‘The advantage which I should take
Being that T am induced to publish from privately knowing
that Wallace is in the field. It seems hard on me that I
should be thus compelled to lose my priority of many years”
standing, but I cannot {eel at all sure that this alters the
justice of the case. First impressions are generally right, and
T at first thought it would be dishonourable in me now to
publish,
Yours most truly,
C Darwin.
P, S.—I have always thought you would make a first-rate
Lord Chancellor; and I now appeal to you as a Lord
Chancellor,
1835.) THE LETTER TO DR, GRAY, 47
Iwill do anything. God bless you, my dear kind friend.
Ican write no more. £ send this by my servant to Kew.
Yours,
C. Danwin.
(The following letter is that already referred to as form-
ing part of the joint paper published in the Linnean Society's
“Journal, 1858] :—
€. Darwin to Asa Gray.
Down, Sept.” sth [1857].
My pax Guay,—I forget the exact words which I used
in my former letter, but I dare say I said that I thought you
would utterly despise me when I told you what views I had
arrived at, which I did because I thought I was bound as an
honest man to do sa. I should have been a strange mortal,
seeing how much T owe to your quite extraordinary kindness,
if in saying this I had meant to attribute the least bad feeling
to you. Permit me to tell you that, before I had ever corre-
sponded with you, Hooker had shown me several of your let-
ters (not of a private nature), and these gave me the warmest
feeling of respect to you ; and I should indeed be ungrateful
if your letters to me, and all T have heard of you, had not
strongly enhanced this fecling. But I did not feel in the least
sure that when you knew whither I was tending, that you
might not think me so wild and foolish in my views (God
knows, arrived at slowly enough, and I hope conscientiously),
that you would think me worth no more notice or assistance,
To give one cxample: the last time I saw my dear old friend
Falconer, he attacked me most vigorously, but quite kindly,
and told me, “Yau will do more harm than any ten Nacuralists
will do good. I can see that you have already corrupted and
*'The date th given as October in the ‘Linnean Journal.” ‘The ex,
tmacts wero printed from a duplicate undated copy in my father’s posses
sion, on which he had written, * This was sent to Asa Gray 8 oF 9 tionths
‘ago, T think October 1857.
half-spoiled Hooker!!" Now whea
in my oldest friends, you need not wond
pect my views to be received with contempt, —
and too much of this.
Tthank you most truly for the kind spirit of,
T agree to every word in it, and think I go
any one in seeing the grave difficulties agains
With respect to the extent to which I go, all
in favour of my notions fall rapidly away, the greater the scopt
of forms considered. But in animals, embryology leads me
an enormous and frightful range. ‘The facts which k
longest scientifically orthodox are those af
pollen-masses in asclepias—the mistletoe, with
carried by insects, and seed by birds—the pes
its fect and tail, beak and tongue, to climb the tree amd secure
insects, ‘To talk of climate or Lamarekian habit
such adaptations to other organic beings i futile, “This diffe
culty I believe I have surmounted. As you scem interested
in the subject, and as it is an dmmense advantage! to me |
write to you and to hear, ever so briefly, what you think,
will enclose (copied, so as to save you trouble in
the briefest abstract of my notions on the means
Nature makes her species, Why I think that species have
really changed, depends on general facts in the
embryology, rudimentary organs, geologieal history, and geo-
graphical distribution of organic beings. Tn regard to my
Abstract, you must take immensely on trust, each
occupying one or two chapters in my book, Wou will,
haps, think it paltry in me, when I ask you mot to mer
my doctrine ; the reason is, if any one, like the author of
‘Vestiges,’ were to hear of them, he might easily work th
in, and then 1 should have to quote from a wark perha
despised by naturalists, and this would greatly injure
chance of my views being received by those alone
opinions I value, [Here follows a discussion on “
genera varying," which has no direct connection with
remainder of the letter.]
1858.) THE LETTER TO DR. GRAY. 479
1. 1t is wonderful what the principle of Selection by Man,
that is the picking out of individuals with any desired quality,
and breeding from them, and again picking out, can do,
Even breeders have been astonished at their own results.
They ean act on differences inappreeiadle to an uneducated
eye. Selection has heen methodically followed in Europe for
only the last half century. But it has occasionally, and even
in some degree methodically, been followed in the most
ancient times, ‘There must have been also a kind of uncon
scious selection from t-e most ancient times, namely, in the
preservation of the individual animals (without any thought
of their offspring) most useful to cach race of man in his par-
ticular circumstances. ‘The “ roguing,” as nursery-men call
the destroying of varieties, which depart from their type, is a
Kind of selection, 1am convinced that intentional and oc~
casional selection has been the main agent in making our
domestic races. But, however this may be, its great power
‘of modification has been indisputedly shown in late times.
Selection acts only by the accumulation of very slight or
greater varations, caused by external conditions, or by the
mere fact that in generation the child is not absolutely similar
to its parent. Man, by this power of accumulating variations.
adapts living beings to his wants—he may de said to make
the wool of one sheep good for carpets, and another for
cloth, &e.
IL. Now, suppose there was a being, who did not judge by
mere external appearance, but could study the whole internal
corganisation—who never was Sapricions wo should go on
selecting for one end during millions of generations, who will
say what he might not effect! In nature we have some sfipst
varintions, occasionally in all parts: and I think it can be
shown that a change in the conditions of existence is the
‘main cause of the child not exactly resembling its parents ;
and in nature, geology shows us what changes have taken
place, and are taking place. We have almost unlimited time:
‘no one but a practical geologist can fully appreciate this :
think of the Glacial period, during the whole of which the
a sl)
© 480 THE WRITING OF THE “OI
same species of shells at least have:
have Deen during this period, millions on
rations,
TIL [think it can be shown that there i such an unerring
power at work, or Valural Selection (the title of iy boot},
which selects exclusively for the good of cach organic being.
‘The elder De Candolle, W. Herbert, and Lyell, have written
strongly on the struggle for life; but even they Hnve mie
written strongly cnough. Reflect that every being (even the
elephant) breeds at such a rate that, in afew years, OF at most
a few ceoturies or thousands of years, the surface of the earth
would not hold the progeny of any one species. 1 have found
it hard constantly to bear in mind that the inerease of every.
single species is checked during some part of its life, or dum
ing some shortly recurrent generation, Only a few of those
annually born can five to propagate their kind, What =
trifling difference must often determine which shall survive
and which perish!
IV. Now take the case of a country undergoing some
change ; this will tend to cause some of its inhabitants tovary
slightly ; not but what I believe most beings vary at all times:
enough for selection toact on, Some of its inhabitants will
be exterminated, and the remainder will be exposed to the
mutual action of a different set of inhabitants, which T believe
to be more important to the life of each being than mere
climate, Considering the infinitely varlous ways beings hare
to obtain food by struggling with other beings, to escape
danger at various times of life, to have their eggs of Seed
disseminated, &c,, &e., | cannot doubt that daring millions
of generations individuals of a species will be born with some
slight variation profitable to some part of its economy | such
will have a better chance of surviving, propagating this wars
tion, which again will be slowly increased by the aceumulative:
action of natural selection; and the variety thus formed Will
either coexist with, or more commonly will éxterminate ite
parent form. Ap organic being like the woodpecker, or the
mistletoc, may thus come to be adapted to a score ofcontin=
__
5] THE LETTER TO DR. GRAY. Bt
gencies; natural selection, accumulating those slight variations:
in ull parts of its structure which are in any way useful to it,
during any part of its life,
V. Multiform difficulties will occur to every one on this
theory, Most can, 1 think, be satisfactorily answered —
“Natura non facit saltum™ answer some of the most abvi-
‘ous, ‘The slowness of the change, and only a very few under-
woing change at any one time answers others. ‘The extreme
imperfections of our geological records answers others,
VI. One other principle, which may be called the principle
of divergence, plays, I believe, an important part in the origin
‘of species. ‘The same spot will support more life if occupied
by very diverse forms: we see this in the many generic forms
in a square yard of turf (1 have counted twenty species
belonging to eighteen genera), or in the plants and insects,
‘on any Tittle uniform islet, belonging to almost as many
genera and families as to species, We can understand this
with the higher animals, whose habits we best understand.
We know that it has been experimentally shown that a plot
of land will yield a greater weight, if cropped with several
species of grasses, than with two or three species. Now every
single organic being, by propagating rapidly, may be said to
he striving its utmost to increase in numbers. So it will be
with the offspring of any species after it has broken into
varieties, or sub-species, or true species. And it follows, I
think, from the foregoing facts, that the varying offspring of
‘each species will try (only a few will succeed) to seize on as
many and as diverse places in the economy of nature as
possible, Each new variety ar species when formed will
generally take the place af, and so exterminate its less well
fitted parent. This, T believe, to be the origin of the classifi.
cation of arrangement of all organic beings at all times.
‘Whese always seem to branch and sub-branch like a tree from
a common trunk; the flourishing twigs destroying the less
‘vigorous—the dead and lost branches rudely representing
extinct genera and families,
This sketch is most imperfect; but in so short a space I
q82 THE WRITING OF THE *ORIGE
cannot make it better. Your imagen eee
je blanks. Without some reflection, it will appear all rule
ish ; perhaps it will appear so after reflection. ys,
P.S.—This little abstract touches only the accumulative
power of natural selection, which I look at as by far the most
important clement in the production of new forms, ‘The laws
governing the incipient or primordial variation (unimportant
except as the groundwork for selection to act om, im which
respect it is all important), I shall discuss under several heads,
but 1 can come, as you may well believe, only to very partial
and imperfect conclusions.
[The joint puper of Mr, Wallace and my father was read
at the Linnean Society on the evening of July 1st. Sir Charles
Lyell and Sir J, D, Hooker were present, and both, 1 believe,
made a few remarks, chiefly with a view of impressing on
those present the necessity of giving the most eareful consid
eration to what they had heard. There was, however, no
semblance of a discussion, Sir Joseph Hooker writes to me:
“The interest ‘excited was intense, but the subject was too
novel and too ominous for the old school to enter the lists,
before armouring. After the meeting it was talked over with
bated breath: Lyell’s approval, and perhaps in a small way
ning, as his Heutenant in the affair, rather overawed the Fel-
lows, who would otherwive have flown out against the doctrine.
We had, too, the vantage ground of being familiar with the
authors and their theme."*]
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Down, July sth [r8s6}.
My peAR Hooker,—We are liecome more happy and
less panic-struck, now that we have sent out of the house
every child, and shall remove H., as soon as she can move.
‘The first nurve became ill with wloerated throat and quinsey,
and the second ix now iil with the scarlet fever, but, thank
SS s
188] THE PROPOSED BOOK, 483
God, is recovering. You may imagine how frightened we
have been. It has been « most miserable fortnight, ‘Thank
you much for your note, telling me that all had gone on
prosperously at the Linnean Society. You must let me once
again tell you how deeply I feel your generous kindness and
Lyell’s on this occasion, But in truth it shames me that you
should haye lost time on a mere point of priority. I shall be
curious to see the proofs, Ido not in the least understand
whether my letter to A. Gray is to be printed ; 1 suppose not,
only your note; but I am quite indifferent, and place myself
absolutely in your and Lyell’s hands.
I can easily prepare an abstract of my whole work, but I
can hardly see how it can be made scientific for a Journal,
without giving facts, which would be impossible, Indeed, a
mere abstract cannot be very shart. Could you give me any
idea how many pages of the Journal could probably be spared
me?
Directly after my return home, I would begin and cut my
cloth to my measure. If the Referees were to reject it as not
strictly scientific, I could, perhaps, publish it as a pamphlet.
With respect to my big interleaved abstract,” would: you
send it any time before you leave England, to the enclosed
address? If you do not go till August 7th-roth, I should
prefer it left with you, I hope you have jotted criticisms on
my MS, on big Genera, &e., sufficient to make you remember
your remarks, as I should be infinitely sorry to lose them.
And T see no chance of our meeting if you go soon abroad,
We thank you heartily for your invitation to join you: I can
fancy nothing which I should enjoy more; but our children
are too delicate for us to leave; I should be mere living
lumber,
Lastly, you said you would write to Wallace; I certainly
should much like this, as it would quite exonerate me: if you
would send me your note, sealed wp, I would forward it with
my own, as I know the address, &c.
# The Sketch of 1844.
484 THE WRITING OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF
Will you answer me sometime about pha
Tength of my abstract,
If you sce Lyell, wil! you tell him how truly geatefal I
fecl for his kind interest in this affair of mine You must
know that I look at it, as very important, ior the reception of
the view of species not being immutable, the fact of the great-
est Geologist and Botanist in England taking aay sort of én
terest in the subject ; I am sure it will do much to break down
prejudices,
Yours affectionately,
C. Darwrs,
©, Darwin to J.D. Hosker,
Miss Wedgwood’s, Mart
|, Tunbridge Wells,
Uoly 13th, fe8}.
My ran Hooxex,—Your letter to Wallace seems to me
perfect, quite clear and most courteous. T do not think it
could possibly be improved, and I have to day forwarded it
with a letter of my own. I always thought it very possible
that I might be forestalled, but T fancied that Thad a grand
enough soul not to care; but I found myself mistaken and
punished ; T had, however, quite resigned myself, and had
written half a letter to Wallace to give up all priority to him,
and should certainly not have changed had it not been for
Lyell’s and your quite extraordinary kindoess. T assure you
T feel it, and shall not forget it, I am more than satisfied at
what took plaice at the Linnean Society. 1 had thomyht
that your letter and mine to Asx Gray were to be only an
appendix to Wallace's paper
We go from here in a few days to the seaside, probably
to the Isle of Wight, and on my return (after a battle with
pigeo skeletons) I will set (o work at the abstract, though
how on earth [shall make anything of an absteact in thirty
pages of the Journal, I know not, but will try my best. T
shall order Bentham; is it not a pity that you shonld waste
time in tabulating varieties? for I can get the Down school-
master to do it on my return, and can tell you all the results
1898.) NATURAL SELECTION. 483
T must try and see you before your journey; but do not
think I am fishing to ask you to come to Down, for you will
have no time for that.
You cannot imagine how pleased Iam that the notion of
Natural Selection has acted as a purgative on your bowels of
immutability. Whenever naturalists can look at species
changing as certain, what a magnificent field will be open—
‘on all the laws of variation,—on the genealogy of all living
beings—on their lines of migration, &c., &e. Pray thank
Mrs, Hooker for her very kind little note, and pray, say how
truly obliged Tam, and in truth ashamed to think that she
should have had the trouble of copying my ugly MS. It was
extraordinarily kind in her. Farewell, my dear kind friend.
Yours affectionately,
C. Darwen,
P.S.—I have had some fun here in watching a slave-mak~
ing ant; for T could not help rather doubting the wonderful
stories, but I have now seen a defeated marauding party,
and T have seen a migration from one nest to another of the
slave-makers, carrying their slaves (who are Aowse, and not
field niggers) in their mouths!
Lam inclined to think that it is a true generalisation that,
when honey is secreted at one point of the circle of the
corolla, if the pistil bends, it always bends into the line of the
gangway to the honey, ‘The Larkspur is a good instance, in
contrast to Columbine,—if you think of it, just attend to this
little point.
C. Darwin to C. Lyell.
King’s Head Hotel, Sandown, Isle of Wight,
July 18th [1858],
. We are established here for ten days, and then go on
to Shanklin, which seems more amusing to one, like myself,
who cannot walk, We hope mach that the sea may do H.
and L. good. And if it does, our expedition will answer, but
not otherwise.
v
486 THE WRITING OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES.”
T have never half thanked you for all the
trouble and kindness you showed me about Wallace's affair,
Hooker told me what was done at the Linnean Society, and f
am far more than satisfied, and 1 do not think that Wallace
can think my conduct unfair in allowing you and Hooker %0
do whatever you thought fair. I certainly was a little annoyed
to lose all priority, but had resigned myself to my fate. Tam
going to prepare a longer abstract; but it is really impossible
to do justice to the subject, except by giving the faets on
which each conclusion is grounded, and that will, of course,
be absolutely impossible, Your name and Hooker's mame
appearing as in any way the least interested in my work
will, Tam certain, have the most important bearing in fead-
ing people to consider the subject without prejudice. 1 look
at this asso very important, that T am almost glad of Wal-
Jace's paper for having Jed to this,
My dear Lyell, yours most gratefully,
Cu. Danwix,
[The following letter refers to the proof-sheets of the
Linnean paper. The ‘introduction’ means the prefatory tet-
ter signed by Sir C. Lyell and Sir J. D. Hooker.)
©. Darwin t J. D, Hooker,
King’s Head Hotel, Sandown, Tale of Wight,
July ast (1898)
My DEAR Hooxer,—t received only yesterday the proof.
sheets, which L now return, I think your introduction cam
not be improved.
Tam disgusted with my bad writing. 1 could not improve
it, without rewriting all, which would not be fair or worth
while, as I have begun on a better abstract for the Linnean
Society. My excuse is that it meer was intended for publica-
tion, Ihave made only a few corrections in the style; but 1
cannot make it decent, but I hope moderately intelligtble, I
suppoxe some one will correct the revise. (Shall 12)
18.) THE * ADSTRACT, 487
Could T have a clean proof to send to Wallace?
1 have not yet fully considered your remarks on big genera
(but your general concurrence is of the Aighest possible inter-
est to me); nor shall I be able till I re-read my MS.; but
you may rely on it that you never make a remark to me which
is lost from fnatiention. Y am particularly glad you do not
object to my stating your objections in a modified form, for
they always struck me as very important, and as having much
inherent value, whether or no they were fatal to my notions,
I will consider and reconsider all your remarks. . . .
Thaye ordered Bentham, for, as —— says, it will be very
curious to see a Flora written by a man who knows nothing
of British plants! ! E +
Tam very glad at what you say about my Abstract, but
you may rely on it that I will condense to the utmost, I
would aid in money if it is too Jong." In how many ways
you have nided me !
Yours affectionately,
C, Darwin,
[Phe ‘Abstract ’ mentioned in the last sentence of the pre~
ceeding letter was in fact the ‘Origin of Species,” on which he
now set to work, In his ‘Autobiography’ (p. 70) he speaks
‘of beginning to write in September, but in his Diary he wrote,
“July 20 to Aug. 12, at Sandown, begin Abstract of Species
book,” “Sep, 16, Recommenced Abstract.” The book was
begun with the idea that it would be published as a paper, or
series of papers, by the Linnean Society, and it was only
the late autumn that it became that it must take the
form of an independent volume.
* That i6 to say, ho would help to pay for the printing, if it should
prove too long for the Linnean Society.
Pr THE ‘ANSTRACTS 489
onpublished work; nevertheless, T repeat, I am extremely
glad L have begun in earnest on it,
hope you and Mrs. Hooker will have a very very pleas
ant tour. Farewell, my dear Hooker.
Yours affectionately,
C. Dagwin,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Norfolk Howse, Shanklio, Isle of Wight,
‘Thunday [Ang. $, 1858].
My prax Hooxtx—I should think the note apologetical
about the style of the abstract was best asa note... . But
T write now to ask you to send me by return of post-the
MS, on big genera, that I may make an. abstract of a couple
of pages in length, I presume that you have quite done with
it, otherwise I would not for anything have it back. If you
tie itwith string, and mark it MS. for printing, it will notcost,
T should think, more thon 4¢. I shall wish much to say that
you have read this MS. and concur; but you shall, before I
read it to the Society, hear the sentence,
What you tell me after speaking with Busk about the
Jength of the Abstract isan éwmense relief to me; it will make
the labour far less, not having to shorten so much every single
subject; but I will try not to be too diffusive, 1 fear it will
spoil all interest in my book,“ whenever published, ‘The
Abstract will do very well to divide into several parts: thus
1 have just finished “Variation under Domestication,” in
forty-four MS. pages, and that would do for one evening; but
Ishould be extremely sorry if all could not be published
together,
What else you say about my Abstract pleases me highly,
‘but frightens me, for I fear I shall never be able to make it
good enough. But how I do run on about my awn affairs to
you!
* The larger book begun in 1856.
Twas astonished to see Sir W. B
three days ago: J was unfortunately:
also, has written to me, proposing to &
oth, but alas, I do not return till the 13th,
till a week later; so that fam also most sorry
not sce you, far E should not fike to leave home so soon. 1
had thought of going to London and running down for an
hour or two to Kew... .
C. Darwin J.D. Hooker,
‘Norfolk Foon Seal ete
My pean Hooxen,—I write merely to say that the MS,
came safely two or three days ago. ane each
the correction of style : I find it anutterably difficult to write
clearly, When we meet I must talk over @ few points on the
subject.
You speak of going to the sea-side somewhere: we think
this the nicest sea-side place which we have ever |
and we like Shanklin better than other spots om the south
coast of the island, though many are charming and prettier,
so that I would suggest your thinking of this place, We
are oo the actual coast; but tastes differ so much about
places.
If you go to Broadstairs, when there ie & strong wind
from the coast of France and jn fine, dry, warm weather,
look out, and you will prokadly (!) see thistle-seeds blown
across the Channel. The other day I saw one blown sight
inland, and then in a few minutes a second one and then &
third; and I said to myself, God bless me, how many thistles:
there must be in France ; and Twente « fetter in imagination
to you. But I then looked at the frm clowds, and moticed
thas they were not coming inland, so I feared a screw was
loose. I then walked beyond a headland, and foand the wind
parallel to the coast, and on this very headland a noble bed
of thistles, which by every wide eddy were blown far out to
La anal
1858] CLIMATE AND MIGRATION. at
sea, and then came right inat rightangles tothe shore! One
day such a number of insects were washed up by the tide,
and 1 brought to life thirteen species of Coleoptera ; not that
J suppose these came from France, But do you watch for
thistle-seed as you saunter along the coast. - .
€. Darwin to Asa Gray.
‘Ang. 11th {1858}
My Deak Gray,—Your note of July 27th has just reached
‘te in the Isle of Wight. Itisareal and great pleasure to
‘me to write to you about my notions; and even if it were
not #0, T should be a most ungrateful dog, after all the in-
valuable assistance you have rendered me, if I did not do
anything which you asked.
T have discussed in my long MS, the later changes of
elimate and the effect on migration, and I will here give you
an abstract of an abstract (which latter I am preparing of my
whole work for the Linnean Society). 1 cannot give you
facts, and T must write dogmatically, though I do not feel so
on any point. T may just mention, in order that you may
believe that I have some foundation for my views, that Hooker
‘has read my MS., and though he at first demurred tomy main
paint, he has since told me that further reflection and new
facts have made him a convert,
Tn the older, or perhaps newer, Pliocene age (a little de
fore the Glacial epoch) the temperature was higher; of this
there can be little doubt; the land, on a éarye scale, held
much its present disposition; the species were mainly, judg-
ing from shells, what they are now. At this period when
animals and plants ranged 10° or 15° nearer the poles, t
believe the northern part of Siberia and of North America
being almost comtiauous, were peopled (it is quite possible,
considering the shallow water, that Behring Straits were
united, perhaps # little southward) by a nearly uniform
fauna and flora, just as the Arctic regions now are, The
climate then became gradually colder till it became what it
i
“CLIMATE AND MIGRATION. 493
with new forms would be very linble to be improved or modi-
fied by natural selection, to adapt them to the new forms
with which they had to compete; hence most of the forms:
‘on the mountains of the ‘Tropics are not identical, but re-
resentative forms of North temperate plants,
‘There are similar classes of facts in marine productions.
All this will appear very rash to you, and rash it may be ;
‘but T am sure not 40 rash as it will at first appear to you:
Hooker could not stomach it at all at first, bit has become
largely a convert, From mammalia and shallow sea, I believe
Japan te have been joined to main land of China within no
remote period; and then the migration north and south be-
fore, during, and after the Glacial epoch would act on Japan,
as on the corresponding latitude of China and the United
‘States.
I should beyond anything like to know whether you have
any Alpine collections from Japan, and what is their charac-
ter. This letter is miserably expressed, but perhaps it will
suffice to show what I believe have been the later main mi-
‘grations and changes of temperature. . .
©. Darwin to J.D, Hooker,
[Down] Oct. Gh, 1858.
, + + If you have or can make leisure, I should very much
Tike to hear news of Mrs. Hooker, yourself, and the children,
Where did you go, and what did you do and are doing?
‘There is a comprehensive text.
‘You cannot tell how I enjoyed your little visit here, It
did me much good. If Harvey is still with you, pray remem-
ber me very kindly to him.
. -- 1 am working most steadily at my Abstract, but it
rows to an inordinate length; yet fully to make my view
clear (and never giving briefly more than a fact or two, and
slurring over difficulties), I cannot make it shorter, It will
yet take me three or four months; so slow do { work, though
never idlé. You cannot imagine what a service you have
oa
494 THE WRITING OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES”
done me in making me make this Abstract; for thoagh f
thought I had got all clear, it bas clarified my brains very
much, by making me weigh the relative importance of the
several elements,
T have been reading with much interest : your (as 1 believe
it to be) capital memoir of R. Brown in the Giurdemers:
Chronicle. «s+
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Down, Oct. rath, 18s8.
. «I have sent eight copies* by post to Wallace, and
will keep the others for him, for I could not think of any one
to send any to.
1 pray you not to pronounce too strongly against Natural
Selection, till you have read my abstract, for though 1 dare
say you will strike out many difficulties, which have never
occurred to me; yet you cannot have thought so fully on the
subject as 1 have.
Texpect my Abstract will run into a small volume, which
will have to be published separately. . . «
What a splendid lot of work you have in hand,
Ever yours,
C. Danwis.
C. Darwin to J, D. Hooker.
Down, Oct. 13h, 1h,
I have been a little vexed at myself at having asked
you not “to pronounce too strongly against Natural Selec
tion." Tam sorry to have bothered you, though I have been
much interested by your note in answer, I wrote the sen-
tence without reflection, But the truth is that TE have so
accustomed myself, partly from being quizzed by my non-
naturalist relations, to expect opposition and even contempt,
that T forgot for the moment that you are the one living soul
* Of the joint paper by C. Darwin and A. R, Wallaos,
2 “SIR J. D. HOOKER. 495
from whom I have constantly received sympathy, Believe
[me] that I never forget for even a minute how much assist-
ance I have received from you. You are quite correct that I
never even suspected that my speculations were a " jam-pot””
to you; indeed, I thought, until quite lately, that my MS.
had produced no effect on you, and this has often staggered
me. Nor did £ know that you had spoken in gencral terms
about my work to our friends, excepting to dear old Falconer,
who some few years ago once told me that I should do more
mischief than any ten other naturalists would do good, [and]
that 1 had half spoiled you already! All this is stupid ego-
tistical stuff, and I write it only because you may think me
ungrateful for not having valued and understood your syim-
pathy; which God knows is not the case. It is an accursed
evil to a man to become so absorbed in any subject as 1 am
in mine.
Twas in London yesterday for a few hours with Falconer,
and he gave me a magnificent lecture on the age of man. We
are not upstarts; we can boast of a pedigree going far back
in time coeval with extinct species. He has a grand fact of
some large molar tooth in the Trias,
Tam quite knocked up, and am going next Monday to
revive under Water-cure at Moor Park.
My dear Hooker, yours affectionately,
© Darwis,
© Darwin & J. D. Hooker.
‘Noy, 1558.
. Thad vowed not to mention my everlasting Ab-
stract ta you again, for T am sure I have bothered you far
more than enough about it; but, as you allude to its previous
publication, T may say that I have the chapters on Instinet
and Hybridism to abstract, which may take a fortnight each ;
and my materials for Paleontology, Geographical Distribu-
tion, and Affinities, being less worked up, I dare say each of
these will take me three weeks, so that I shall not have done
— ss
406 THE WRITIN
at soonest till April, and then my A
my Abstract shorter, to be satisfactory, than Tw
and yet it will expand to a small volume, .,
[About this time my father revived bis old tnd |
beetles in helping his boys in their collecting. He sest
short notice to the *Entomologist’s Weekly Intelligencer,
June ath, 189, recording the capture of Licinws siljphetdes,
Clytus mysticut, Panagaeus 4-pustulates, The notice begins
with the words, “ We three very young collectors having lately
token in the parish of Down,” &c., and is signed by three of
his boys, but was clearly not written by them. 1 bave a vivid
recollection of the pleasure of turning out my bottle of dead
beetles for my father to name, and the excitement, in whieh
he fully shared, when any of them proved to be uecommon
ones. The following letters to Mr. Fox (November 3, 1858),
and to Sir John Lubbock, illustrate this point ¢)
©, Darwin to W.D. Fox,
Down, Nor. 13th [2855},
.... W., my son, is now at Christ's College, in the rooms
above yours, My old Gyp, Impey, was astaunded to Bear
that he was my son, and very simply asked, “Why, has Be |
‘been long married?” What pleasant hours those were when
I used to come and drink coffee with you daily! I am re
minded of old days by my third boy having just begun
collecting beetles, and he caught the other day Arachiaus
erepitans, of immortal Whittlesea Mere memory. My blood |
boiled with old ardour when he eanght a Licinus—a prize
unknown to me. . -
©. Darwin to John Lasoo,
‘Thereday [before 2857],
Drak Lunnoce,—I do not know whether you care aboot |
beetles, bus for the chance I send this in a bottle, which 1
A a
Mia
never remember having seen ; though it is excessively rash to
speak from a twenty-five-year old remembrance. Whenever
‘we meet you can tell me whether you know it, . . .
T feel like an old war-horse at the sound of the trumpet,
when T read about the eaptaring of rare beetles—is not this a
magonnimous simile for a decayed entomologist It really
almost makes me long to begin collecting again, Adios,
“Floreat Entomologia” !—to which toast at Cambridge L
have drunk many a glass of wine, So again, “Floreat En«
tomologia.” N.B. I have not now been drinking any glasses
{ull of wine. Yours,
cD.
C Darwin to Herbert Spencer.
Down, Nov. asth {1858}.
Dear Str,—I beg permission to thank you sincerely for
your very kind present of your Essays.* I have already read
several of them with much interest, Your remarks on the
general argument of the so-called development theory seems
to me admirable, Lam at present preparing an Abstract of a
larger work on the changes of species ; but I treat the subject
simply as a naturalist, and not from a general point of view,
otherwise, in my opinion, your argument could not have been
improved on, and might have been quoted by me with great
advantage. Your article on Music has dlso interested me
much, for I had often thought on the subject, and had come
to nearly the same conclusion with you, though unable to
support the notion in any detail. Furthermore, by a curious
coincidence, expression has been for years x persistent subject
with me for Zoose speculation, and I must entirely agree with
you that all expression has some biological meaning. I hope
to profit by your criticism on style, and with very best thanks,
T beg leave to remain, dear Sir,
Yours truly obliged,
C. Danwiw.
Essays, Scientific, Political, and Speculative,’ by Herbert Spencer,
Tas8~74-
salary and house is jolly, and
My room (28 X 19), with divided
(ond painted), aot furniture, and
£se0. tam heartily glad of th
Your facts about distribution
T remember well that none of your
your several works, perptexed me,
migration having been mainly from
in the reverse direction. I haye no
(but that is yery different from
self, Idid not for long see the bearing of
which I had asrived, with respect to t)
species inhabiting a very large area, and
large numbers, and which have been subj
competition with many other forms, will ha
natural selection, at a higher stage of
habitants of a small area,
anomalies, or what may be called “living fos
now only fresh water, having been beaten out, #
nated in the sea, by more improved forms ;
Ganoid fishes are fresh water, as [are]
Omithorhynchus, &. ‘The plants af Europe
being the largest ters
Australian plants ; [whilst] these could not resi
See how all the productions of New Zealand 5
Europe. I dare say you will think all this utt
believe it to be solid truth,
You will, I think, admit that Australian p
‘so in India, is no argument that they could
against the ten thousand natural continger fo
ingocts, animals, &c,, &c, With respect to Sout) r
9, PLANS FOR PUBLICATION. 499
and the Cape, Tam shut up, and can only d—n the whole
case,
++» You say you should like to see my MS, but you did
read and approve of my Jong Glacial chapter, and 1 have not
yet written my Abstract on the whole of the Geographical
Distribution, nor shall I begin it for two or three weeks.
But either Abstract or the old MS.1 should be delighted to
send you, especially the Abstract chapter. . . .
I haye now written 330 folio pages of my abstract, and it
will require 150-200 [more] ; so that it will make a printed
volume of 4c pages, and must be printed separately, which L
think will be better in many respects. The subject really
‘seems to me too large for discussion at any Society, and I be=
lieve religion would be brought in by mea whom 1 know,
Tam thinking of a r2mo volume, like Lyell’s fourth or
fifth edition of the * Principles,’ . . .
T have written you a scandalously long note. So now
good bye, my dear Hooker,
Ever yours,
C, Darwis,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
‘Down, Jan, 20th, 1859.
‘My pear Hooxer,—tI should very much like to borrow
Heer at some future time, for 1 want to read nothing per-
plexing at present till my Abstract is done. Your last very
instructive letter shall make me very cautious on the hyper-
speculative points we have been discussing.
When you say you cannot master the train of thoughts,
T know well enough that they ate too doubtful and obscure
tobe mastered. I have often experienced what you call ths
humiliating feeling of getting more and more involved in
doubt the more one thinks of the facts and reasoning on
oubtful points. But I always comfort myself with thinking
‘of the future, and in the full belief that the problems which
‘we are just entering on, will some day be solved ; and if we
=
joo THE WRITING OF THE “OR!
just break the ground we shall have dove some service, even
if we reap no harvest.
I quite agree that we only differ in degree about the means
of dispersal, and that I think 2 satisfactory amount of aceord-
ance. You put in a very striking manner the mutation of our
continents, and T quite agree ; I doubt only abot our oceans
T also agree (1 am in a very agreeing frame of mind) with
your argumentum ad kowinem, about the highness of the
‘Australian Flora from the number of species and genera: but
here comes in a superlative bothering element of doubt, vite
the effect of isolation.
‘The only paint in which T preswmystwously rather Gemur ix
about the statug of the naturalised plants in Australia. T
think Mller speaks of their having spread largely beyond
cultivated ground ; and I can hardly believe that our Euro
pean plants would occupy stations so barren that the native
plants could not live there. I should require much evidence:
to make me believe this. I have written this note merely to
thank you, as you will sce it requires no answer
Thave heard to my amazement this morning from Phillips
that the Geological Council have given me the Wollaston
Medal!!!
Ever yours,
Cc. Damwin.
C. Darwin te {. D Hooker.
Down, Jam. 291, 185q
. «+» Lenclose letters to you and me from Wallace, Tad
mire extremely the spirit in which they are written 1 never
felt very sure what he would say, He must be am amfable
man. Please return that to me, and Lyell ought to be told
how well satisfied he ig These letters have vividly brought
before me how much f owe to your and Lyell’s most kind and
generous conduct in all this affair,
+. « How glad I shall be when the Abstract is finished,
and ean rest! 5
Pa i
=—
MR. WALLACE.
©. Darwin t A. R. Wallace.
Down, Jan, asth [389].
‘My pean Stx,—I was extremely much pleased at receiving }|
three days ago your letter to me and that to Dr. Hooker.
Permit me to say how heartily [ admire the spirit in which
they are written, ‘Though I had absolutely nothing whatever
to do in leading Lyell and Hooker to what they thought a
fair course of action, yet T naturally could not but feel anxious
to hear what your impression would be. 1 owe indircetly
much to you and them ; for T almost think that Lyell would
have proved right, and I should never have completed my
larger work, for I have found my Abstract hard enough with
my poor health, but now, thank Ged, Iam in may last chapter
but one. My Abstract will make a small yolume of 490 or
s00 pages. Whenever published, I will, of course, send you
‘& copy, and then you will see what I mean about the part
which I believe selection has played with domestic produc
tions, It is a very different part, as you suppose, from that
played by “Natural Selection.” I sent off, by the same ad-
dress as this nate, a copy of the ‘Journal of the Linnean So-
ciety,’ and subsequently [have sent some half-dozen copies
of the paper. T have many other copies at your dis-
1am glad to hear that you have been attending to birds’
‘nests. Ihave done so, though almost exclusively under one
point of view, vir., to show that instincts vary, so that selec-
tion could work on and improve them, Few other instinets,
0 to speak, can be preserved in a Museum.
Many thanks for your offer to Jook nfter horses" stripes;
if there are any donkeys, pray add them, Tam delighted to
Tear that you have collected bees’ combs, .... This is an
especial hobby of mine, and I think 1 can throw a light on
the subject, If you can collect duplicates, at no very great
expense, I should be glad of some specimens for myself with
some bees of each kind. Young, growing, and irregular
combs, and those which have not had pupw, are most valua-
go2 THE WRITING OF TIT ‘ORIGIN OF
ble for measurements and examination. ‘Their edges should
be well protected against abrasion.
Every one whom I have seen has thought your yaenney
well written and interesting. It puts my extracts (writtes
1839, now just twenty years ago!), which T must say in eee
ogy were never for an instant intended for publication, into
the shade.
You ask about Lyell’s frame of mind. 1 think be is some-
what staggered, but does not give in, and speaks with horter,
often to me, of what a thing it would be, amd what 2 job it
would be for the next edition of “The Principles,’ if he were
“perverted,” But he is most candid and honest, and I think
will end by being gerverted. Dr, Hooker has become almost
as heterodox as you or I, and I look at Hooker as y far the
most capable judge in Europe,
Most cordially do J wish you health and entire success im
all your pursuits, and, God knows, if admirable zeal and
energy deserve success, most amply do you deserve it. 1 look
at my own career as nearly run out. If 1 cam publish my
Abstract and perhaps my greater work on the same gebject,
I shall look at my course as done.
Believe me, my dear sir, yours very sincerely,
C Darwe.
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
Down, March 2nd [eBeq}
My pear Hooxes,—Here is an odd, though very little,
fact. 1 think it would be hardly possible to name a bird
which apparently could have less to do with distribution than
a Petre Sir W. Milner, at St. Kilda, eut open seme young
resting Petrels, and he found large, curious nuts in their
crops; I suspect picked up by parent birds from the Gulf
stream. He seems to value these nuts excessively, I have
asked him (but 1 doubt whether he will) to send a mut to Sir
William Hooker (I gave this address for grandeur sake)
to wee if any of you cam name it and its native country, Will
3 GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION. 503
you please mention this to Sir William Hooker, and if the nut
does arrive, will you oblige me by returning it to “Sir W.
Milner, Bart., Nunappleton, Tadcaster,” in a registered letter,
and Iwill repay you postage. Enclose slip of paper with the
name and country if you can, and let me hereafter k
Forgive me asking you to take this much trouble; for it is a
funny little fact after my own heart,
Now for another subject, T have finished my Abstract of
the chapter on Geographical Distribution, as bearing on my
subject. [should like you much to read it; but 1 say this,
believing that you will not do so, if, as 1 believe to be the
case, you are extra busy. On my honour, t shall not be mor-
tified, and I earnestly beg you not to do it, if it will bother
you, I want it, because I here feel especially unsafe, and
errors may have erept in. Also, I should much like to know
what parts you will most vehemently object to, 1 know we do,
and must, differ widely on several heads, Lastly, I- should
Jike particularly to know whether 1 have taken anything from
you, which you would like to retain for first publication; but
T think I have chiefly taken from your published works, and,
though I have several times, in this chapter and elsewhere,
acknowledged your assistance, I am aware that it is not poe
sible for me in the Abstract to do it sufficiently.* But again
Jct me say that you must not offer to read it if very irksome.
dt is Jong—about ninety pages, I expect, when fully copied
out.
T hope you are all well. Moor Park has done me some
‘good. Yours affectionately,
5 ©. Darwin,
P.S.—Heaven forgive me, here is another question ; How
far am T right in supposing that with plants, the most impor-
*T never did pick any one's pocket, but whilst writing my present
Ehapter I keep on fooling (even when differing most from you) just as IC
‘Were Healing from you, 60 much do f owe to you
fiom, a0 much more thon mere acknowledgments show.
J, D. Hooker, 1859. e
——
soy THE WRITING OF THE
fant characters for main divisions are By
sced itself cannot be considered as such, 1
albumens, &e, But I suppose the ons
tion, and the position of the plumule and the rac
position and form of the-whole ecileyo, fathead are
embryological, and how far are these very important ? 1 wish
to instance plants as a case of bigh importance of embryo-
logical characters in classification” In the Animal Kingdow
there is, of course, no doubt of this,
©. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
‘Down, March sth (1869).
My pear Hooxer,—Many thanks about the seed , . .
it is curious. Petrels at St. Kilda apparently being fed by
seeds raised in the West Indies, It should be noted whether
it is a nut ever imported into England. T am very glad you
will read my Geographical MS,; it is now copying, and ie wall,
(1 presume) take ten days or so in being finished ; ie hall be
sent as soon as done. . . .
I shall be very glad to sce your embryological ideas om
plants; by the sentence which I sent you, you will see that
T only want one sentence; if facts are at all, ax T suppose,
and T shall see this from your note, for sending which very
many thanks,
T have been so poorly, the last three days, that I sometiones
doubt whether I shall ever get my little volume done, though
so nearly completed... . fl
©, Darwin to J.D. Hocker.
Down, March tsi [2869}-
My peax Hooxex,—I am leased at what you say of my
chapter. You have not attacked it nearly so moch as I
feared you would, You do not seem to have detected miatmy
errore. It was nearly all written from enemory, and henee I
was particularly fearful; it would have beem better if the
La. ual
1459.) GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION 505
whole had first been carefully written out, and abstracted
afterwards, I look at it as morally certain that it must include
mich error in some of its general views. I will just run over
a few points in your note, but do not trouble yourself to re-
ply without you have something important to say... +
I should like to know whether the case of Endemic
bats in islands struck you; it has me especially; perhaps too
strongly.
With hearty thanks, ever yours,
C. Danwrs.
P.S, You cannot toll what a relief it has been to me your
looking over this chapter, as I felt very shaky on it,
1 shall to-morrow finish my ast chapter (except a recapitu-
lation) on Affinities, Homologies, Embryology, &c., and the
facts seem 19 me to come out rery atrong for mutability of
species,
Thave been much interested in working out the chapter.
I shall now, thank God, begin looking over the old first
chapters for press,
Bot my health is now so very poor, that even this will take
me Joog.
Darwin to W. D. Fox.
Down [March] 2gth [1829].
My pear Fox,—It was very good of you to write to me
in the midst of all your troubles, though you seem to have
st over some of them, in the recovery of your wife's and
your own health, I had not heard lately of your mother's
health, and am sorry to hear so poor an account. But as
she does not suffer much, that is the great thing: for mere
life Ido not think is much valued by the old. What a time
you must have had of it, when you had to go backwards and
forwards.
We are all pretty well, and our eldest daughter is improv-
ing- Tcan see daylight through my work, and am now finally
»
work my brain; but facts compel mé to
brain was never formed for much
a good start, for it ‘cevainly han bene gpiaeoaeag ite, ns
has incapacitated me for everything. . You do me injusti
when you think that { work for fame; I value it to a certain
‘extent; but, if I know myself, I work from a sort of instinct
to try to make out truth. Haw glad I should be if you could
sometime come to Down ; especially when I get alittle better,
as I still hope to be. We have set up a billiard table, and
find it does me a deal of good, and drives the horrid species
out of my head, Farewell, my dear old friend,
* Yours affectionately,
oe
©. Darwin to C. Eyeth
Maret 28th [e859}
My pean Lyeut,—If I keep decently well, I hope to be
able to go to press with my volume earlyin May. This bemg
so, [want mich to bega litte advice from you. From an
expression in Lady Lyell's note, 1 fancy that you have spoken
to Murray. Is it so? And is he willing to publish my Ab.
stract? If you will tell me whether anything, and what has
passed, 1 will then write to him, Does he know at all of the
subject of the book? Secondly, can you advise me, whether
T had better state what terms of publication T should prefer,
or first ask him to propose terms? And what do you think
would be fair terms for an edition? Share profits, or what?
Lastly, will you be so wery kind as to look at the enclosed
title and give me your opinion and any criticisms; you must
remember that, if [have health and it appears worth doing,
have a much larger and full book on the same subject mearly
ready,
Ls, ==
ats) PLANS FOR PUBLICATION, 507
“My Abstract will be about five hundred pages of the size
of your first edition of the ' Elements of Geology.’
Pray forgive me troubling you with the above queries;
‘and you shall have no more trouble on the subject. I hope
the world goes well with you, and that you are getting on
with your various works,
Tam working very hard for mie, and long to finish and be
free and try to recover some health,
My dear Lyell, ever yours,
C. Darwin,
Very sincere thanks to you for standing my proxy for the
Wollaston Medal.
P.S. Would you advise me to tell Murray that my book
is not more amorthodox than the subject makes inevitable.
‘That f do not discuss the origin of man, ‘That I do not bring
in any discussion about Genesis, &c., &c,, and only give facts,
and such conclusions from them as seem to me fair.
Or had I better say nothing to Murray, and assume that
he eannot object to this much unorthodoxy, which in fact is
not more than any Geological ‘Treatise which runs slap
counter to Genesis,
Suctoswre.
AN ABSTRACT OF AN ESSAY
ORIGIN
SPECIES AND VARIETIES
HLLOUGN NATURAL SELECTION
‘CHARLES Danwix, M.A.
LONDON
ae, Be, fe, seo.
1359.
My DEAR Lyert,—You have been
‘all you have done. You not only have
trouble and some anxiety, but have done all
better than I could have done it, Dam much
you say about Murray, I will write either
‘morrow to him, and will send shortly a large ‘bundle of MS,
but unfortunately T cannot for a week, as the first three chap«
ters are in the copyists' hands,
Tam sorry about Murray objecting to the term Abstract,
as I look at it as the only possible apology for maf, giving
Teferences and facts in ta, but I will defer to him and you.
Tam also sorry about the term “natural selection. I hope
to retain it with explanation somewhat as thus—
“Through natural selection, oF the preservation of favoured Races.”
Why I like the term is that it is constantly used im all
works on breeding, and I am surprised that it is not familiar
to Murray; but I have so long studied such works that I
have ceased to be « competent judge.
T again most truly and cordially thank you for your really
valuable assistance,
Yours most truly,
C. Darwix,
C. Darwin t J. D. Hooker.
Down, April and [1859].
«++ T wrote to him [Ms Murray] and gave him the
headings of the chapters, and told him he could not have the
MS. for ten days or so; and this morning I received a letter,
offering me handsome terms, and agreeing to. publish with
out seeing the MS.! So he is eager enough; 1 think T
should have been cautious, anyhow, but, owing to your letter,
T told him most expéicidy that 1 accept his offer solely on con~
1859) PLANS YOR PUBLICATION, 509
dition that, aftef he has seen part or all the MG, he has full
power of retracting. You will think me presumptuos, but
I think my book will be popular to a certain extent (enough
to ensure [against] heavy lovs) amongst scientific and semi-
‘scientific men; why I think so is, because L have found in
‘conversation so great and surprising an interest amongst such
men, and some o-scientific [non-scientific] men on this subject,
and all my chapters are not early so dry and dull as that
which you have read on geographical distribution. Anyhow,
Murray ought to be the best judge, and if he chooses to pub-
lish it, E think I may wash my hands of all responsibility. 1
am sure my friends, /,¢., Lyell and you, have been extraerdi=
nuriy kind in troubling yourselves on the matter.
T shall be delighted to see you the day before Good
Friday; there would be one advantage for you in any other
day—as I believe both my boys come home on that day—
and it would be almost impossible that I could send the
carriage for you. ‘There will, I believe, be some relations in
the house—but I hope you will not care for that, as we shall
easily get as much talking as my imbecile state allows. 1 shall
deeply enjoy seeing you.
.. + + Lam tired, s0 no more,
My dear Hooker, your affectionate,
C, Darwiy,
P,S.—Please to send, well tied up with strong string, my
Geographical MS,, towards the latter half of next weck—ve.
qth or Sth—that I may send it with more to Murray; and
God help him if he tries to read it.
* . ... Leannot help a little doubting whether Lyell would
fake much pains to induce Murray to publish my book ; this
was not done at my request, and it rather grates against my
pride,
I know that Lyell has been éufnitely kind about my affair,
Wat your dashed [/. ¢., underlined] “ snduce" gives the idea that
Lyell had unfairly urged Murray.
you that it will be the Aighet?
look at the request ax a high comp!
may depend, forget a request which 1 look
But (and it is a heavy “ but" to me) it wall.
go to press; Tecan truly say 1am aveer idle
too hard for my much weakened health;
three hours of work daily, and I cannot at all
have finished: T have done eleven Jong chapters, bu
got some other very difficult ones: as paleo
cations, and embryology, &c., and 1 have to ¢
largely to all those done. I find,alas! each chapter takes me
on an average three months, so slow Tam. There
to the necessary digressions, Ihave just finished |
on Instinct, and here I found grappling with such
bees’ cells, and comparing all my notes made during twenty
years, took up a despairing length of time.
But 1 am running on about myself in a most egotistical:
gle. Yet I nyust just say how useful I have again and a
found your letters, which I have lately been looking:
quoting! but you need not fear that I shall quote
you would dislike, for 1 try to be very cautious om this
head. I most heartily hope you may succeed in get va
“incubus” of old work off your hands, and be in some degree
4 free man,
Again et m me + say that T do indeed feel grateful to you
©. Darwin & J. Murray.
Down, Apel sib (18¢9)-
My prar Sim,—I send by this post, the Tithe (with some:
remarks on a separate page), and the first three
If you have patience to read all Chapter L, I
you will have a fair notion of the interest of the
.
_ Ft
1850) LOST MANUSCRIPT. stt
It may be conceit, but I believe the subject will interest
the public, and Tf am sure that the views are original. If you
think otherwise, 1 must repeat my request that you will freely
reject my work ; and though I shall be a litte disappointed, T
shail be in no way injured.
If you choose to read Chapters 11, and IEL,, you will have
# dull and rather abstruse chapter, and a plain and interesting
one, in my opinion,
‘As soon as you have done with the MS,, please to send it
by careful messenger, and plainly directed, to Miss G, Tollett,
14, Queen Anne Street, Cavendish Square.
‘This lady, being an excellent judge of style, is going to look
out for errors for me.
‘You must take your own time, but the sooner you finish,
the sooner she will, and the sooner I shall get to press, which
Ts carmestly wish,
I presume you will wish to see Chapter TV. the key-stone
of my arch, and Chapters X. and XL, but please to inform
me on this head.
My dear Sir, yours sincerely,
C, Danwry,
‘ ©, Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
Down, Apil 10h (1859).
= «+ Iwrite one line to say that I heard from Murray
yesterday, and he says he has read the first three chapters of
fone MS, (and this includes a very dull one), and he abides by
his offer. Hence he does not want more MS., and you can
tend my Geographical chapter when it pleases you. « . «
[Part of the MS. seems to have been lost on its way back
to ty father; he wrote (April 14) to Sir J. D. Hooker <)
“1 have the old MS., otherwise, the loss would have killed
me! ‘The worst is now that it will cause delay in getting to
Press, and far tworss of all, lose all advantage of your having
512 THE WRITING OF THE *
looked over my chapter, except
tm very sory Mr. Hooker tock the robe
two pages."
C. Darwin te J. D. Hooker.
[April or May, 1859),
« » « Please do not aay to any one that T thought my book:
on Species would be fairly popular, and have a |
nerative sale (which was the height of my ambition), for if it
prove a dead failure, it would make me the more ridiewlous.
Lenclove a criticism, taste of the future
Rev, S, Haughton's Address to the Geatogical Society, Dubin.®
“This speculation of Messrs Darwin and Wallace would
not be worthy of notice were it not for the weight of authority
of the names (i. ¢. Lyell’s and yours), under whose auspices it
has been brought forward, If it means what it says, it isa
troism ; if it means anything more, it is contrary to fact.”
QED
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker,
Down, May sth [F859}.
My bean Hooker,—Thank you for telling me about
obscurity of style, But on my life no nigger with Iash over
him could have worked harder at clearness than I have done,
But the very difficulty to me, of itself leads to the
that T fail, Yet one lady who has read all iny MS. has found
only two or three obscure sentences, but Mrs, Hooker haying
so found it, makes me tremble. I will do my best in proofs.
You are a good man to take the trouble to write about it. |
With respect to our mutual muddle, 1 never for a moment
* Feb, 1g9.
4° When I go over the chapter 1 will see what T cam do, bat T hantly
vow how Tam edscure, aod I Think we are somehow in « meatual eeudldte
with reypect to each ctber, from szarcing from yore fundamentally differ
ent notions” —Letter of May 6 1849,
a al
sg] HEALTH FAILING. © 5I3
thought we could not make our ideas clear to cach other by
tatk, or if either of us had time to write in extenso.
© Limagine from some expressions (but if you ask me what,
I could not answer) that you look at variability as some
necessary contingency with organisms, and further that there
is some necessary tendency in the variability to go an diverge
ing in character or degree. If you do, T do not agree.“ Re~
version "again (a form of inheritance), I look at as in no
way directly connected with Variation, though of course
inheritance is of fundamental importance to us, for if a variax
tion be not inherited, it is of no significance tous, It was
om such points as these / fancied that we perhaps started
differently.
I fear that my book will not deserve at all the pleasant
things you say about it; and Good Lord, how I do long to
have done with it!
‘Since the above was written, I have received and have
been much interested by K. Gray. 1 am delighted at his note
about my and Wallace's paper. He will go round, for it is
futile to give up very many species, and stop at an arbitrary
Tine at others. It is what my grandfather called Unitarian-
ism, “a feather bed to catch a falling Christia re
©, Darwin te J, D. Hooker.
Down, May 88th [1899].
My pear Hooner,—My health has quite failed. I am
off to-morrow for aweck of Hydropathy, 1 am very very
sorry to say that I cannot look over any proofs * in the week,
a8 my object is to drive the subject out of my head. I shall
Feturn to-morrow week, If it be worth while, which probably
it is not, you could keep back any proofs till my return home.
In haste, ever yours,
©, Danwne.
* Of Sir J, Hooker's Lotroduction to the ' Fors of Austral
$14 THE WRITING OF THE “ORIGIN 0
[Ten days tater he wrote to Sir J-:0)
“0. 1 write one word to say that I |
Saturday, and if you have any proof-sheets to send, 1
be glad to do my best in any eriticisms,
Thad . . . great prostration of mind and bedy, but entire
rest, and the douche, and ‘Adam Bede,’ have together done
me a world af good.”]
C. Darwin to J. Murray,
- Down, June x4th (1859)
My DEAK Sitj—The diagram will do very well, and I will
send it shortly to Mr. West to have a few trifling corrections:
made.
1 get or very slowly with proofs. T remember writing to
you that I thought there would be not much correction. T
honestly wrote what I thought, but was most grievously mis-
taken. I find the style incredibly bad, and most dificult to
make clear and smooth, [ am extremely sorry to say, on
account of expense, and loss of time for me, that the correc~
tions are very heavy, as heary as possible, But from casual
lances, T still hope that later chapters are not so badly writ
“ten, How I could have written so badly is quite inconceiva-
ble, but I suppose it was owing to my whole attestion
fixed on the general line of argument, and not on details.
ALT can say is, that Tam very sorry.
‘Yours very be
DaRwre.
P.S. I have been looking at the onset
ering them, Tt seems to me that 1 shall put you to a
unfair expense, If you please I should like to enter in
some such arrangement ax the following: When wore Com
pleted, you to allow in the account a fairly moderately heavy
‘charge for corrections, and all exoess over that to be deducted
from my profits, or paid by me individually,
SE a
PROOF-SHEETS ~ sis
©, Darwin & C. Lyell,
Down, Juve arst [1859}.
1 am working very hard, but get on slowly, for I find that
my corrections are terrifically heavy, and the work tnoxt
difficult to me, 1 have corrected £30 pages, and the yolume
will be about 500. I have tried my best to make it clear and
Striking, but very much fear that T have failed—so many die
cngsions are and must be very perplexing, 1 have done my
best. If you had all my materials, I am sure you would have
made a splendid book. I long to finish, for I am nearly worn
out.
My dear Lyell, ever yours most truly,
C. Darwis,
©. Darwin to J.D. Hooker.
Down, 22nd [June, 1859}
Mv pear Hooxnn,—I did not answer your pleasant note,
with a good deal of news to me, of May goth, as I have been
expecting proofs from you, But now, having nothing par-
ticalar to do, I will fly a note, though I have nothing particu-
lar to say or ask. Indeed, how ean a man have anything to
say, who spends every day in correcting accursed proofs ;”
and such proofs! 1 have fairly to blackea them, and fasten
slips of paper on, so miserable have I found the style. You
say that you dreamt that my book was entertaininy : that
dream is pretty well over with me, and I begin to fear that
the public will find it intolerably dry and perplexing. But I
will never give up that a better man could have made a
splendid book out of che materials. I was glad to hear about
Presiwich’s paper.* My doubt has been (and I sce Wright
dias inserted the same in the ‘ Athensum’) whether the pieces
‘of flint are really tools; their numbers make me doubt, and
when I formerly looked at Boucher de Perthe's drawings, I
# Mr. Preswwich wrote on the occurrence of flat tnstruments assoctated
With the remains of extinct aalrosls in France—(Proc. R. Soe, 1359.)
516 THE WRITING OF THE ‘ORIGIN
came to the conclusion that they were angular fimgrents
broken by ice action,
Did erossing the Acacia do any good? tiem sovkand
worked, that I can make no experiments, I have got only
to 150 pages in first proof.
Adios, my dear Hooker, ever yours,
© Darwin,
©. Darwin to J. Murray,
Down, July asth [1839],
My pear Sir,—I write to say that five sheets are returned
to the printers ready to strike off, and two more sheets require
‘only a revise; so that I presume you will soom have to decide
what number of copies to print off.
Tam quite incapable of forming an opinion. I think T
have got the style fairly good and clear, with infinite trouble.
But whether the book will be successful to a degree to satisfy
you, I really cannot conjecture. 1 heartily hope it may.
‘My dear Sir, yours very sincerely,
C. Darwey.,
C. Darwia to A. R. Wallace.
Dows, Aug. oth, 859.
My DEAR Mk, Wattack—I received your letter and
memoir® on the 7th, and will forward it to-morrow to the
Linnean Society. But you will be aware that there is no
meeting till the beginning of November, Vour paper seems:
to me admirable in matter, style, and reasoning; and I thank
you for allowing me to read it. Had I read it some months
‘ago, I should have profited by it for my forthcoming volume.
But my two chapters on this sabject are in type, and,
not yet corrected, | am so wearied out and weak in health,
that T am folly resolved not to add one word, and merely
improve the style. So you will see that my views are nearly
This veems to vefer to Mr. Wallace's paper, "Om the Zostogical
Geography of the Malay Avchipelazo,” * Linn. Soe. Journ,’ 140,
—_ 7 aul
ASLANDS, si7
the same with yours, and you may rely on it that not one
word shall be altered owing to my having read your ideas.
‘Are you aware that Mr. W. Earl® published several years
ago the view of distribution of animals in the Malay Archi-
pelago, in relation to the depth of the sea between the islands?
4 was much struck with this, and have been in the habit of
noting all facts in distribution in that archipelago, and else«
where, in this relation, 1 have been led to conclude that
there has been a good deal of nataralisarion in the different
Malay islands, and which I have thought, to a certain extent,
would account for anomalies. Timor has been my greatest
pusele, What do you say to the peculiar Felis there? I
wish that you had visited Timor; it has been asserted that a
fossil mastodon's or clephant's tooth (I forget which) has been
found there, which would be a grand fact. I was aware that
Gelebes was very peculiar; but the relation to Africa is quite
new to me, and marvellous, and almost passes belief, It is as
anomalous as the relation of ffants in S.W. Australia to the
Cape of Good Hope, I differ zAely from you on the coloni~
sation of oceanic islands, but you will have every one else
on your side. I qnite agree with respect to all islands not
situated far in the ocean, I quite agree on the little ocea-
sional intermigration between lands [islands?] when once
pretty well stocked with inhabitants, but think this does not
apply to rising and ill-stocked islands. Are you aware that
annually birds arc blown to Madeira, the Azores (and to
Bermuda from America). I wish I had given a fuller abstract
‘of my reasons for not believing in Forbes’ great continental
extensions ; but it is too late, for I will alter nothing—I am
worm out, and must have rest, Owen, I do not doubt, will
bitterly oppose us, . .. Hooker is publishing a grand intro~
duction to the Flora of Australia, nad goes the whole length.
Thave seen proofs of about half. With every good wish.
Believe me, yours very sincerel
* Probably Mr, W, Earle’s paper, Geographical Soc. Journal, 2845,
1359) HEAVY CORRECTIONS. 519
©. Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, Sept. and [1859}
« .. Lam very glad you wish to see my clean sheets: I
shonid have offered them, but did not know whether it would
bore you; I wrote by this morning's post to Murray to send
them, Unfortunately I have not got to the part which will
interest you, I think most, and which tells most in favour of
the view, viz, Geological Succession, Geographical Distri-
Dution, and especially Morphology, Embryology and Rudi-
mentary Organs, Twill see that the remaining sheets, when
printed off, are sent to you. But would you like for me to
send the last and perfect revises of the sheets as I correct
them? if so, send me your address in a blank envelope. I
hope that you will read all, whether dull (especially latter
part of Chapter IL) or not, for I am convinced there is not
4 sentence which has not a bearing on the whole argument.
You will find Chapter IV. perplexing and unintelligible, with-
‘out the aid of the enclosed queer diagram,” of which I send
‘an old and useless proof. I have, as Murray says, corrected
so heavily, as almost to have re-written it; but yet I fear it is
poorly written. Parts are intricate; and I do not think that
ven you could make them quite clear, Do not, I beg, be in
a hurry in committing yourself (like 40 many naturalists) to
go a certain length and no further; for I am deeply con-
vinced that it is absolutely necessary to yo the whole vant
length, or stick to the creation of each separate species;
‘argue this point briefly in the last chapter. Remember that
your verdict will probably have more influence than my book
in deciding whether such views as f hold will be admitted or
Tejected at present; in the furure I cannot doubt about their
admittance, and our posterity will marvel as much about the
eurrent belicf as we do about fossil shelis having been thought
fo have been created as we now sce them. But forgive me
fer manning on about my hobby-horse. .
# The diagram iMlasteates descent with divergence.
sae
tory to me, and 1 thank you for myself, and even more for
the subject's sake, as T know well that the sentence will make
‘many fairly consider the subject, instead of ridiculing it.
‘Although your previously felt doubts on the immutability of
species, may have more influence in converting you (if you
be converted) than my book ; yet as T regard your verdict
as far more important in my awn eyes, and f believe in the
= eyes of the world than of any other dozen men, I am naturally
very anxious about it, Therefore let me-beg you to keep
your mind open till you receive (in perhaps a fortnight’s time)
my latter chapters, which are the most important of all on
the favourable side. ‘The last chapter, which sums ap and
Dalances in amass all the arguments contra and pro, will, T
think, be useful to you. I cannot too strongly express my
conyiction of the general truth of my doctrines, and God
knows I have never shirked a difficulty, Iam foolishly anxious
for your verdict, not that I shall be disappointed if you are
not converted ; for I remember the long years it took me to
come round; but I shall be most deeply delighted if you do
come round, especially if I have a fair share in the eonver-
sion, I shall then feel that my career is run, and care little
whether I ever am good for anything again in this life,
‘Thank you much for allowing me to put in the sentence
about your grave doubt* So much and too much about
myself.
ovcurs in the address: “On this difficult and mysterious wubject a work
will very shortly appear by Mr. Charles Darwin, the remlt of twenty years
of ohterwations and experiments in Zoology, Motany, and Geology, by
Aehich he had heen ted ¢0 the eonctysion that those powers of nature which
give rise (0 races and permanent varieties in sniinals wid plants, are the
same aa thove which in much longer periods produce species, and in = still
Jonger serfes of ayer yive rise to differences of generic rank. He appears
to me to bave succeeded by his Investigations and reasonings in throwing.
a flood of light on many classes of phenomena connected with the affai-
thes, ical disteibution, and geological succsssion of organic beings,
for which no other hypotheiis has been able, or has even attempted to
* As to the immutability of species, * Origin,’ Bd, i, p 910
x
clearer to me; I suppose that you did not |
sufficient about the Glacial period, ae
With cordial thanks for your splendid notice of |
Believe me, my dear Lyell, your affectionate d
Cartes
C. Darwin w WD. Fax,
‘Down, Sept. 23nd [18¢9]-
My peak Fox,—I was very glad to get your letter a few
days ago. I was wishing to hear about you, but have
in such an absorbed, slavish, overworked state, that I had not
heart without compulsion to write to any one or do
beyond my daily work. Though your account of yourself
better, I cannot think it at all satisfactory, and 1 wish you
would soon go to Malvern again, My father used to 7
largely in an old saying that, if a man grew thipner between
fifty and sixty years of age, his chance of long life was poor,
and that on the contrary it was a very good sign if be grew
fatter ; so that your stoutness, T look at as a very good omen.
My health has been as bad as it well could be all this sum
mer; and I have kept on my legs, only by going at short
intervals to Moor Park; but I have been better be and,
thank Heaven, 1 have at last as good. as done iy ook
having only the index and two or three revises to do. Tt
will be published in the first week in November, and a c
shall be sent you. Remember it is only an Abstract (but has:
cost me above thirteen months to write !!), and facts and
authorities are far from given in full. 1 shall be cisrions to
hear what you think of it, but T am not so silly as to expect —
to convert you. Lyell has read about hal of the volume in
clean sheets, and gives me very great Auses, He is wavering
so much about the immutability of species, that 1 expect he
will come round. Hooker has come round, and will
his belief soon. So much for my abominable volume, which
a al
+89] ENCOURAGEMENT. $23
has cost me so much Jabour that T almost hate it. On Octo»
Der sr I start for Ilkley, but shall take three days for the
journey! fe is so late that we shall not take a house; but T
go there alone for three or four weeks, then return home for
a week and go to Moor Park for three or four weeks, and
then I shall get a moderate spell of hydropathy: and 1 in-
tend, if I ean keep to my resolution, of being idle this winter.
But I fear ennui will be as bad as a bad stomach,
» Darwin to C. Lyell.
Down, Sept. agth [r8sq].
My ran Lyett—I send by this post four corrected
sheets, I have altered the sentence about the Eocene fauna
Deing beaten by recent, thanks to your remark, But I
imagined that it would have been clear that I supposed the
climate to be nearly simi ‘ou do not doubt, T imagine,
that the climate of the eocene and recent periods in wifferent
parts of the world could be matched. Not that I think clix
mate nearly so important as most naturalists seem to think,
In my opinion no error is mare mischievous than this.
T was very glad to find that Hooker, who read over, in
MS, my Geographical chapters, quite agreed in the view of
the greater importance of organic relations, I should like
you to consider p. 77 and reflect on the case of any organism
in the midst of its range.
T shall be curious hereafter to hear what you think of die
tribution during the glacial and preceding warmer periods.
T am so glad you do not think the Chapter on the Imperfec-
tion of the Geological Record exaggerated ; L was more fear-
ful about this chapter than about any par
Embryology in Chapter VILL. is one of my strongest points
Tthink, But I must not bore you by running on. My mind
is so wearisomely full of the subject,
I do thank you for your eulogy at Aberdeen. 1 have
been so wearied and exhausted of late that I have for months
doubted whether I have not been throwing away time and
Whether you go far, or but a very short way wit
others who believe as 1 do, {am contented, for
eannot be in vain, You would laugh if you knew |
T have read your paragraph, and it bas acted
dram... 5
My pean Lyeit,—t sent off this morning the last |
but without index, which is not in type. J look at you:
Lord High Chancellor in Natural Science, and therefore
Tequest you, after you have finished, just {0 rerwm over the
hoads in the Recapitulation-part of last chapter, I shall be
deeply anxious to hear what you decide (if you are able to
decide) on the balance of the pros and contras given Inmy |
volume, and of such other pros and contras as may occur to
you. 1 hope that you will think that I have given the diffix
culties fairly. I feel an entire conviction that if yom are now
‘staggered to any moderate extent, that you will come more
and more round, the longer you keep the subject at all before
your mind. 1 remember well how many long years it was
before I could look into the faces of some of the difficulties
and not feel quite abashed, f fairly struck my colours before
the case of neuter insects.
I suppose that I am a very slow thinker, for you would be
surprised at the number of years it took me to see clearly
what some of the problems were which had to be solved, such
as the necessity of the principle of divergence of character,
the extinction of intermediate varieties, on a ce wee
with graduated conditions; the double problems of sterile:
crosses and sterile hybrids, &c., &,
Looking back, I think it was more dificult tested
yn al
3859) FINISHED. 525
the problems were than to solve them, so far as I have suc-
ceeded in doing, and this seems to me rather curious, Well,
good of bad, my work, thank God, is over; and hard work, T
can assure you, I have had, and much work which has never
borne fruit. You can see, by the way I am scribbling, that
I haye an idle and rainy afternoon, 1 was not able to start
for likley yesterday as I was too unwell; but I hope to get
there on Tuesday or Wednesday. Do, I beg you, when you
hare finished my book and thought a little over if, let me
hear from you. Never mind and pitch inta me, if you think
it requisite ¢ some future day, in London possibly, you may
give me a few criticisms in detail, that is, if you have scrib-
Died any remarks on the margin, for the chance of a second
edition.
Murray bas printed 1250 cdpies, which seems to me rather
too large an edition, but I hope he will not lose.
J make as much fuss about my book as if it were my first,
Forgive me, and believe me, my dear Lyell,
Yours most sincerely,
©, Danwiy,
C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Ukley, Yorkshire, Oct. rsth [1859].
My prAx Hooken,—Be a good man and screw out time
enough to write me a note and tell me a little about yourself,
your doings, and belongings
Is your Introduction fairly finished? I know you will
abuse it, und I know well how much T shall like it. 1 have
been here nearly a fortnight, and it has done me very much
food, though I sprained my ankle last Sunday, which has
quite stopped walking. All my family come here on Monday
to stop three or four weeks, and then T shall go back ta the
great establishment, and stay a fortnight; so that if I can
Keep my spirits, 1 shall stay cight weeks here, and thus give
hydropathy a fair chance, Before starting here Twas in an
awful state of stomach, strength, temper, and spirits. My
=
you will mark your copy with scores, 60 th
‘any etiticiams. I should like to hear your
From Lyell’s letters, he thinks it, by
staggered by the lengths to which I go. Bat
considerable leagth in the admission of modifteation, I can
see no ‘ible means of drawing the line, and sa
foe uontrcn, Lyell ging read es en
entertain hopes that he will be converted, or perverted, as he
calls it. Lyell has been extremely kind in writing me three
volume-like letters; but he says nothing about dispersal diut=
ing the glacial period. I should ea kegs what he thinks
on this head. I have one question to ask: Would it be any
good to send a copy of my Btok to Decaisne? and do you
know any philosophical botanists on the who read
English and care for such subjects? if so, give their addresses.
How about Andersson in Sweden? You camnot think how
refreshing it is to idle away the whole day, and hardly ever
think in the least about my confounded book which half
Killed me. 1 much wish I could hear of your taking a real
rest. I know how very strong you are, mentally, but 1 never
will believe you can go on working as you have worked of
Jate with impunity. You will some day stretch the string too
ight. Farewell, my good, and kind, and dene friend,
Yours affectionately,
C. DaRwi,
C. Darwin w 7, H. Husky,
Tikley, Otley, Yorkshire, Oct. x5th (1859).
MY HeA® HUxtEY,—I am here hydropathising and com=
ing to life again, after having finished my accursed
which would have been easy work to any one else, but half
killed me. T have thought you would give me one bit of
information, and T know not to whom else to apply; *im, the
addresses of Barrande, Von Siebold, Keyserling (I dare sy
Sir Roderick would know the latter),
a il
850) RESTING AT ILKLEY, 327
Can you tell me of any good and spreulative foreigners to
whom it would be worth while to send copies of my hook, on
the *Grigin of Species"? 1 doubt whether it is worth sending
ta Sicbold. I should like to send a few copies about, but
how many I can afford [ know not yet till I hear what price
Murray affixes,
{ need not say that Iwill send, of course, one to you, in
the first week of November. I hope to send copies abroad
immediately, 1 shall be éatemsely curious to hear what effect
the book produces on you. 1 know that there will be much
in ic which you will object to, and I do not doubt many errors,
1 am very far from expecting to convert you to many of my
heresies; but #f, on the whole, you and two or three others
think Tam on the right road, I shall not care what the mob
of naturalists think. The penultimate chapter," though 1
Delieve it includes the truth, will, T much fear, make you
savage, Do not act and say, like Macleay versus Fleming,
“1 write with aqua fortis to bite into brass."
Ever yours,
Cc Darwe,
G, Darwin to C. Lyell.
Ukloy, Yorkshire,
‘Oct. goth [1859].
Mr pean Lyxtt,—I have been reading over all your let
ters consecutively, and T do not feel that T have thanked you
half enongh for the extreme pleasure which they have given
me, and for their utility. I sce in them evidence of fluctua-
tion in the degree of credence you give to the theory; nor
am I at all surprised at this, for many and many fluctuations
T have undergone.
‘There is one point in your letter which I did not notice,
about the animals (and many plants) naturalised in Australia,
which you think could not endure without man’s aid. I ean-
not see how man docs aid the feral cattle. But, letting that
* Chapter XIII. is on Clanification, Morphology, Embryology, and
Rudimentary Organs,
ay] RESTING AT ILKLEY. 529
“notelear"or" 2." Such marks would cost you little trouble,
and I could copy them and reflect on then, and their value
would be infinite to me,
My larger book will have to be wholly re-written, and not
merely the prosent volime expanded; so that I want to waste
ag little time over this volume as possible, if another edition
be called for; but I fear the subject will be too perplexing,
as T have treated it, for general public.
C Darwin 0 J.D. Hooker,
Mey, Yorkshire,
Sunday (Oct, ayn, 189},
My pean Hooxre,—I congratulate you on your‘ Intro-
duction" * being in fact finished. Iam sure from what T read
of it (and deeply I sholl be interested in reading it straight
through), that it must have cost you a prodigious amount of
labour and thought. I shall like very much to see the sheet,
which you wish me to look at. Now I am so completely a
gentleman, that I have sometimes a little difficulty to pass the
days but it is astonishing how idle a three weeks 1 have
passed. If it is any comfort to you, pray delude yourself by
saying that you intend “sticking to humdrum science,” But
I believe it just as much as if a plant were to say that, “I
have been growing all my tife, and, by Jove, { will stop grow-
ing.” You cannot help yourself; you are not clever enough
for that, You could not even remain idle, ax T have done,
for three weeks! What you say about Lyell pleases me ex~
ceedingly; I had not at all inferred from his letters that he
had come so much round I remember thinking, above o
year ago, that if ever I lived to see Lyell, yourself, and Hux:
ley come round, partly by my book, and partly by their own
reflections, T should fee] that the subject is safe, and all the
world might rail, but that ultimately the theory of Natural
Selection (though, no doubt, imperfect in its present condi-
* Australian Flora.
524 THE WRITING OF THE ‘OR
labour for nothing. But now I care
world says; I have always found you right,
this occasion I am not going to doubt for the
Winer yon: Easy mint a ae
others who believe as I do, 1 am contented, for ny work
cannot be in vain, You would laugh if you knew |
I have read your paragraph, and it bas acted lke &
dram...
Farewell,
C. Dauwin.
©. Dartoin to ©. Lyell.
Down, Sept, goth [1859}-
My vrar Lyett,I sent off this morning the last sheets,
but without index, which is not in type. I look at you a8 my
Lord High Chancellor in Natural Science, and therefore E
request you, after you have finished, just to reram over the
heads in the Recapitulation-part of last chapter, 1 shall be
dceply anxious ta hear what you decide (if you are able to
decide) on the balance of the pros and contras given in my
volume, and of such other pros and contras as may occur to
you, 1 hope that you will think thar I have given the diss
culties fairly. 1 feel an entire conviction that if you are now
Staggered to any moderate extent, that you will come more
and more round, the longer you keep the subject at all before
your mind. I remember well how many long years it was
before 1 could look into the faces of some of the difficulties
and not feel quite abashed. 1 fairly struck my colours before
the case of neuter insects.
I suppose that T am a very slow thinker, for you would be
surprised at the number of years it took me to sce clearly
what some of the problems were which had 10 be solved, such
as the necessity of the principle of divergence of character,
‘he extinction of intermediate varieties, on a cantinnous areay
with graduated eonditions; the double problem of sterile first
crosses and sterile hybrida, &c., &e.
Looking back, 1 think it was more difficult to see what
is9) FINISHED. $25
the problems were than to solve them, so far as T have suc-
ceeded in doing, and this seems to me rather curious, Well,
good or bad, my work, thank God, is over; and hard work, E
ean assure you, I have had, and much work which has never
borne fruit, You can sce, by the way I an scribbling, that
1 have an idle and rainy afternoon, I was not able to start
for Ukley yesterday a3 I was too unwell ; but I hope to get
there on Tuesday or Wednesday. Do, I beg you, when you
have finished my book and thought a little over it, let me
hear from you. Never mind and pitch into me, if you think
it requisite ; some future ds
give mea few criticisms in d
Vled any remarks on the margin, for the chance of a second
‘edition.
‘Murray has printed 1250 copies, which seems to me rather
t00 large an edition, but 1 hope he will not lose.
T make as much fuss about my book as if it were my first.
Forgive me, and believe me, my dear Lyell,
‘Yours most sincerely,
C. Darwiy.
© Darwin to J. D. Hooker.
Ikley, Yorkshire, Oct, s5th [3859].
‘MY prAR Hookex,—Be a good man and screw out time
enough to write me anote and tell me « Hittle about yourself,
your doings, and belongings.
Is your Introduction fairly finished? 1 know you will
Abuse it, and E know well how much I shall like it. 1 have
been here nearly s fortnight, and it has done me very much
good, though I sprained my ankle last Sunday, which has
quite stopped walking. All my family come here on Monday
to stop three of four weeks, and then 1 shall go back to the
great establishment, and stay 2 fortnight; so that if I can
keep my spirits, { shall stay cight weeks here, and thus give
hydropathy a fair chance. Before starting here 1 was in an
awful state of stomach, strength, temper, and spirits, My
526 TUE WRITING OF THE
book has been completely finished ond Visetian abeo
as copies are ready, of course one will be sent you.
‘you will mark your copy with scores, so that I may profit by
any criticisms, should like to hear your general impression,
From Lyell's letters, he thinks favourably of it, but seems
staggered by the lengths to which I go. But if you go any
‘considerable length in the admission of modification, T cam
see no possible means of drawing the line, and saying here
you must stop, Lyell is going to reread my book, and 1 yet
‘entertain hopes that he will be converted, or perverted, as he
calls it, Lyell has been extremely kind in writing me three
volume-like letters; but he says nothing about dispersal dar
ing the glacial period. I should like to know what he thinks:
‘on this head, 1 have one question to ask: Would it be any
good to xend a copy of my bok to Decaisne ? and do you
know any philosophical botanists on the Continent, who tend
English and care for such subjects? if so, give their addresses,
How about Andersson in Sweden? You easnot think how
refreshing it is to idle away the whole day, and hardly ever
think in the least about my confounded book which half-
killed me. I much wish I could hear of your taking @ real
rest, I know how very strong you are, mentally, but I never
will believe you ean go on working as you have worked of
late with impunity. You will some day stretch the string too
tight. Farewell, my good, and kind, and dear friend,
Yours affectionately,
Cc
C. Darwin oT. H. Hustey.
Tikley, Otley, Yorkshire, Oct. e3th [18¢9)
My pear Huxtey,—I am here hydropathising and com
ing to life ugain, after having finished my book,
which would have been easy work to any one else, but half-
killed me, I have thought you would give me one bit of
information, and T know not to whom eélée to apply; viz., the
addresses of Barrande, Von Siebold, Keyserling (I dare say
Sir Roderick would know the latter).
1859.) RESTING AT ILKLEY, sor
Can you tell me of any good and sveulative foreiyners to
whom it would be worth while to send copies of my book, on
the “Origin of Species’? I doubt whether it is worth sending
to Siebold. I should like to send a few copies about, but
how many T can afford T know not yet till T hear what peice
Murray affixes.
T need not say that I will send, of course, one to you, in
the first week of November, 1 hope to send copies abroad
immediately, 1 shall be snfensely curious to hear what elect
the book produces on you. I know that there will be much
in it which you will object to, and I do not doubt many errors.
T am very far from expecting to convert you to many of my
heresies; but if, on the whole, you and two or three others
think Iam on the right road, I shall not care what the mob
of naturalists think, The penultimate chapter,” though I
believe it includes the truth, will, I much fear, make you
savage. Do not act and say, like Macleay versus Fleming,
“1 write with aqua fortis to bite into brass.”
Ever yours,
C, Darwix,
C. Darwin to C. Lyell
Ukley, Vorkshire,
Oct, oth [18s9}.
My pean Lyett,—I bave been reading over all your let-
ters consecutively, and I do not feel that | have thanked you
half enough for the extreme pleasure which they have given
me, and for their utility. I see in them evidence of fhictua
tion in the degree af cretlence you give to the theory; nor
am 1 at all surprised at this, for many and many fluctuations
T have undergone.
‘There is one point in your letter which I did not notice,
about the animals (and many plants) naturalised in Australia,
which you think could not endure without man’s aid. T cane
not see how man docs aid the feral cattle, But, letting that
* Chapcer X111. is on Classification, Morphology, Embryology, and
Rulimentary Organs
523 THE WRITING OF THE:
Ermcctondring doughy ey
daha Atrios docs is Round
as much asthe cattle, In parts of India, after a
takes ten or more years before the indigenous mammals get
up to their full number again. Your pupa
apply to the aborigines as well as to the feral.
An animal or plant which encih $e bal Sea
ritory might be destroyed by climate, but I can hardly believe
a0, when once feral over several large territories, Again, T
feel inclined to swear at climate : do not think me impudent
for attacking you about climate. You say you doubt whether
man could have existed under the Eocene climate, but man
can now withstand the climate of Eequimaux-land and West
Equatorial Africn; and surely you do not think the Bocene
climate differed from the present throughout all Europe, ax
much as the Arctic regions differ from Equatorial Africa?
‘With respect to organisms being created on the American
type in America, it might, I think, be said that they were
so created to prevent them being too well created, so as
beat the aborigines; but this seems to me, somehow, a mon~
steous doctrine.
T have reflected a good deal on what you say on the neres-
sity of continued intervention of creative power. I cannot
tee this necessity; and its admission, T think, would make
the theory of Natural Selection valueless Grant a
Archetypal creature, like the Mud-fish or Lepidosiren,
the five senses and some vestige of mind, and I beliewe natural
selection will account for the production of every vertebrate
animal.
Farewell ; forgive me for indulging in this prose, and
believe me, with cordial thanks,
Your-ever attached disciple,
ce
P. 5.—When, and if, you reread, I supplicate yon to write
on the margin the word “expand,” when too condensed, or
_
97 RESTING AT ILKLEY, 529
“not eléar,"or"?." Such marks would cost you little trouble,
asi I could copy them and reflect on them, and their value
would be infinite to me.
‘My larger book will have to be wholly re-written, and not
merely the present volume expanded; so that T want to waste
as little time over this volume as possible, if another edition
be called for; but I fear the subject will be too perplexing,
ay I have treated it, for general public.
© Darwin to J, D, Hooker.
Mey, Yorkshire,
Sunday (Oct. aged, 1869).
My prax Hooxer,—I congratulate you on your * ntro-
duction” being in fact finished. 1 am sure from what I read
of it {and deeply I shall be interested in reading it straight
through), that it must have cost you a prodigious amount of
labour and thought. I shall like very much to see the sheet,
which you wish me to look at. Now I am so completely a
gentleman, that { have sometimes a little difficulty to pass the
day; but it is astonishing how idle a three weeks I have
passed. If it is any comfort to you, pray delude yourself by
saying that you intend "sticking to humdrum science,” But
I believe it just as much as if 2 plant were to say that, “I
have been growing all my life, and, by Jove, I will stop grow-
ing” You cannot help yourself; you are not clever enough
for that. You could not even remain idle, as I have done,
for three weeks! What you say about Lyell pleases me ex-
ceédingly; 1 had not at all inferred from his letters that he
had come so much round I remember thinking, above a
year ago, that if ever I lived to see Lyell, yourself, and Hux.
Jey come round, partly by my book, and partly by their own
reflections, I should fecl that the subject is safe, and all the
world might rail, but that ultimately the theory of Natural
Selection (though, no doubt, imperfect in its present condi-
* Australian Flom,
asa) NATURAL SELECTION, sar
or “principle of improvements” it requires only diversified
variability, and man to select of take advantage of those
modifications which are useful to him; so under nature any
slight modification which cfaxces to arise, and is useful to any
creature, is selected or preserved in the struggle for life; any
modification which is injurious is destroyed or rejected ; any
which is neither useful nor injurious will be left a fluctuating
clement. When you contrast natural selection and “improves
ment,” you scem always to overlook (for 1 do not see how
you can deny) that every step in the natural selection of each
species implies improvement in that species in relation to its
conditions of life, No modification can be selected without
ft be an improvement or advantage. Improvernent implies, I
suppose, each form obtaining many parts or organs, all excel-
ently adapted for their functions,
proved, and as the number of forms will have increased, if
we look to the whole course of time, the organic condition of
life for other forms will become more complex, and there will
bea necessity for other forms to become improved, or they
will be exterminated; and I can see no Umit to this process
of improvement, without the intervention of any otker and
direct principle of improvement. All this seems to me quite
compatible with certain forms fitted for simple conditions,
remaining unaltered, or being degraded.
If I have a second edition, I will reiterate * Natural Selec
tion,” and, as a general consequence, “Natural Improves
ment,”
‘As you go,as far as you do, I begin strongly to think,
judging from myself, that you will go much further. How
slowly the older geologists admitted your grand views on
existing geological causes of chan
If at any time you think T can answer any question, it is
a rea} pleasure to me to write,
Yours affectionately,
Cc. Danwis.
CHAPTER XIV.
AY PROFESSOR HUXLEY,
ON THE RECEPTION OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF spectRs.”
To the present generation, that is to say, the people a few
years on the hither and thither side of thirty, the name of
Charles Darwin stands alongside of those of Isaac Newton
and Michael Faraday ;.and, like them, calls up the grand
ideal of a searcher after truth and inteepreter of Nature.
‘They think of him who hore it as a rare combination of
genius, industry, and unswerving veracity, who eamed his
place among the most famous men of the age by sheer native
power, in the tecth of a gale of popular prejudice, and un-
cheered by a sign of favour or appreciation from the official
fountains of honour; as one who in spite of an acute sensi-
tiveness to praise and blame, and notwithstanding provoca-
tions which might have excused any outbreak, kept himsclf
clear of all envy, hatred, and malice, nor dealt otherwise than
fairly and justly with the unfairness and injustice which was
showered upon him; while, to the end of his days, he was
ready to listen with patience and respect to the most insig-
nificant of reasonable objectors.
And with respect to that theory of the origin of the forms
of life peopling our globe, with which Darwin's name is bound
up as closely as that of Newton with the theory of gravitation,
nothing seems to be further from the mind of the present
generation than any attempt to smother it with ridicule or
to crush it by vehemence of denunciation. “The stniggle
for existence,” and “ Natural selection,” have become house-
hold:words and’every-day'conceptions. “The reality and the
“THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES! 535
‘Even the theologians have almost ceased to pit the plain
meaning of Genesis against the no less plain meaning of
Nature. Their more candid, or more cautious, representatives:
have yiven up dealing with Evolution as if it were 2 damnable
heresy, and have taken refuge in one of two courses. Bither
they deny'that Genesis was meant to teach scientific truth,
‘and thus save the veracity of the record at the expense of is
‘authority ; or they expend their enengies in devising the cruel
ingenuities of the reconciler, and torture texts in the vain
hope of making them confess the creed of Science. But when
the peine forte et dure is over, the antique sincerity of the ven-
erable sufferer always reasserts itsclf. Genesis is honest to
the core, and. professes to be no more than it is, a repository
of venerable traditions of unknown origin, claiming ao scien-
tfle authority and possessing none.
‘As my pen finishes these passages, T can but be amused
to think what a terrible hubbub would have been made (in
truth was made) about any similar expressions af opinion a
quarter of a century ago. In fact, the contrast between the
present condition of public opinion upon the Darwinian ques-
tion; between the estimation in which Darwin's views are
now held in the scientific world ; between the acquiescence,
‘orat least quiescence, of the theologians of the self-respecting
order at the present day and the outburst, of antagonism on
all sides in 1858-9, when the new theory respecting the origin
‘of species first became known to the older generation to which
I Delong, is so startling that, except for documentary evidence,
I should be sometimes inclined to think my memories dreams,
I have a great respect for the younger generation myself
{they ean write our lives, and ravel ont all our follies, if they
choose to take the trouble, by and by), and I should be glad
to be assured that the fecling is reciprocal; but I am afraid
that the story of our dealings with Darwin may prove a great
hindrance to that veneration for our wisdom which I should
like them to display. We have not even the excuse that,
thirty years ago, Mr. Darwin was an obscure novice, who had
nO claims on our attention, On the contrary, his remarkable
‘THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES.’ $37
and whore “mode of dealing with nature" is reprobated as
“utterly dishonourable to Natural Science.” And all this
high and mighty talk, which would have been indecent in one
‘of Mr. Darwin's equals, proceeds from a writer whose want
‘of intelligence, ot of conscience, or of both, is so great, that,
by way of an objection to Mr, Darwin's views, he can ask,
“Is it credible that all favourable varieties of turnips are
tending to become men; " who is so ignorant of paleontology,
‘that he can talk of the “flowers and fruits" of the plants of
the carboniferous epoch ; of comparative anatomy, that be
an gravely affirm the poison apparatus of the venomous
snakes to be “entirely separate from the ordinary laws of
animal life, and peculiar to themselves; " of the rudiments
‘of physiology, that he can ask, “ what advantage of life could
alter the shape of the corpuscles into which the blood can
‘be evaporated?” Nor does the reviewer fail to flavour this
outpouring of preposterous incapacity with a little stimu-
Jation of the odivm theolagicwm. Some inkling of the his-
tory of the conflicts between Astronomy, Geology, and
Theology, leads him to keep a retreat open by the proviso
that he cannot “consent to test the truth of Natural Sci-
ence by the word of Rerelation;” but, for all that, he
devotes pages to the exposition of his conviction that Mr.
Darwin's theory “contradicts the revealed relation of the
creation to its Creator,” and is “ inconsistent with the fulness
of his glory."
If { confine my retsospect of the reception of the ‘Origin
‘of Species’ to 2 twelyemonth, or thereabouts, from the time
of its publication, I do not recollect anything quite so foolish
and unmannerly as the ‘Quarterly Review” article, unless,
perhaps, the address of a Reverend Professor to the Dublin
Geological Society might enter into competition with it. But
a large’ préportion'of Mr. Darwin's critics, hac-a-lanrentable
resémblatice to the *Quarterly* reviewer, in so far as they
Jnekedveithen the will, or the wit, to make themselves masters
OP his doctrine hardly any possessed the knowledge required
40 follow him through the immense range of biological and
‘THO (ORIGIN OF SPECIES” 530
bim, ever afterwards, as Pallas Athene may have looked at
Dian, after the Endymion affair), declared himself a Dar-
though not without putting ina serious caveat. Never-
theless, he was a tower of strength, and his courageous stand
for truth as against consistency, did him infinite honour, As
evolutionists, sane pirase, 1 do not call to mind among the
biologists more than Asa Gray, who fought the battle splen-
idly in the United States; Hooker, who was no less vigorous
here; the present Sir John Lubbock and myself, Wallace
was far away in the Malay Archipelago; but, apart from his
itireet share in the promulgation of the theory of natural
selection, no enumeration of the influences at work, at the
time Lam speaking of, would be complete without the men-
tion of his powerful essay ‘On the Law which bas regulated
the Introduction of New Species,’ which was published in
2855. On reading it afresh, I have been astonished to recol-
tect how small was the impression it made.
In France, the influence of Elie de Beaumont and of
Flourens—the former of whom is said to have “damned him-
self to everlasting fame" by inventing the nickname of "fe
science moussante” for Evolutionism,*—to say nothing of the
ilwill of other powerful members of the Institut, produced
for a Jong time the effect of a conspiracy of silence; and
many years passed before the Academy redeemed itself from
the reproach that the name of Darwin was not to be found
‘on the list of its members. However, an accomplished
weiter, out of the range of academical influences, M, Laugel,
gave an excellent and appreciative notice of the ‘Origin’ in
the * Revue des Deux Mondes.’ Germany tok time to con=
Sider ; Bronn produced a slightly Bowdlerized translation of
the * Origin’; and * Kladderadatsch * cut his jokes upon the
ape origin of man; but I do not call to mind that any scien-
One is reminded of the offect of another small academic epigram,
*The sovcalled vertebral theory of the skull (s sid to have been nipped im
tho bud in France by the whisper of an acadewvician to his neighbor, that,
Si that case, one’s head was a " vertibve powrante.*
‘THE “ORIGIN OF SPECIES: 54t
‘ever, {fT tell my own story it is only because I know it bet-
‘ter than that of other people.
‘TD think T must have read the ‘Vestiges’ before I lefe
ngtind in 1846; but, if did, the book made very little
inapression upon me, and I was not brought into serious con+
tact with the ‘Species’ question until after 1830, At that
time, I had long done with the Pentateuchal cosmogony,
which had been impressed upon my childish understanding
as Divine truth, with all the authority of parents and in-
structors, and fom which it had cost me many a struggle to
fet free, But my mind was unbiassed in respect of any doc-
trine which presented itself, if it profesved to be based on
philosophical and scientific reasoning, Tt seemed to
me then (as it docs now) that “ereation,” in the ordinary
sense of the word, is perfectly conceivable. I find no diffi-
euity in imagining that, at some former period, this universe
‘was not in existence ; and that it made its appearance in six
days (or instantaneously, if that is preferred), in consequence
‘of the volition’of some pre-existent Being. Then, as now,
the so-called 2 priori arguments against Theism ; and, given
# Deity, against the possibility of creative acts, appeared to
‘me to be devoid of reasonable foundation, 1 had not then,
and 1 have not now, the smallest d priori objection to raise
to the account of the creation of animals and plants given in
* Paradise Lost,’ in which Milton so vividly embodies the
natural sense of Genesis. Far be it from me to say that it is
untrue’ because it is impossible. I confine myself to what
tatist be regarded asa modest and reasonable request far some
particle of evidence that the existing species of animals and
plants did originate in that way, as a condition of my belief
in & statement which appears to me to be highly improbable,
And, by way of being perfectly fair, had exactly the
same answer to give to the evolutionists of 1851-8 Within
the ranks of the biologists, at that time, I met with nobady,
except Dr. Grant, of University College, who had a word to
say for Evolution—and his advocacy was not calculated to
advance the cause, Qutside these ranks, the only person
‘THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES. saa
Sates mere specics-mongering In 1850, one-
half of Lamarck’s arguments were obsolete and the other
half erroneous, or defective, in virtue of omitting to deal
with the various clasves of evidence which had been brought
to light since his time, Moreover his one suggestion as to
Wie cause of the gradual modification of species—ettort ex-
‘cited by change of conditions—was, on the face of it, inap=
plicable to the wholo vegetable world. I do not think that
‘any impartial judge who reads the ‘Philosophie Zoologique”
‘now, and who afterwards takes up Lyell’s trenchant and
effectual criticism (published as far back as 1830) will be
disposed to allot to Lamarck a much higher place in the
establishment of biological evolution than that which Bacon
assigns to himself in relation to physical science generally,—
inator tantum.*
But, by a curious irony of fate, the same influence which
Jed me to put as little faith in modern speculations on this
8 recorded in the first
more potent than any
other in keeping alive a sort of pious conviction that Evolu-
op, after all, would turn out true. I have recently read
afresh the first edition of the * Principles of Geology"; and
when I consider that this remarkable book had been nearly
thirty years in everybody's hands, and that it brings home 10
any reader of ordinary intelligence a great principle and a
great fact—the principle; that the past must be explained by
sheupresent, unless good cause be shown to the contrary;
and the fact, that, so far as our knowledge of the past history
of life on our globe goes, no such cause can be shown =P
sasnot BGI believe that Lyvll, for, other as for myself, was
* Erasmus Darwin fine promulgated Lamarck's fundamental concep
= tions, and, with greater Ingioal consistency, he had applied them to
Pilanix Tat the advocates of his claims have failed to show thar he, in
‘aby respect, anticipates! the central idea of the “Origin of Specien?
$ The same principle and the same fact guide and rewilt from all
sound historical investigation. Grote's * History of Greece" is a product of
the same Intellectual movement as Lyell’s *Principlen
—_— €
‘THE “ORIGIN OF SPECIES” M5
But, after all, what changes species may really undergo!
‘How impossible will {t be to distinguish and lay down a line,
beyond which some of the so-called extinet species have
never passed into recent ones."
Again, the following remarkable passage occurs in the
postscript of letter addressed to Sir John Herschel in
1836 -—
iiilnegerd/to the corigiantion of new apecles 1'um ery
glad to find that you think it probable that it may be carried
6 through the intervention of intermediate causes. I left
thie rather to be inferred, not thinking it worth while to
offend a certain class of persons by embodying in words
what would only be 2 speculation.” * He goes on to refer
fo the criticisms which have been directed against him on
the ground that, by leaving species to be originated by
miracle, he is inconsistent with his own doctrine of uniformie
farianism ; and he leaves it to be understood that he had not
replied, on the ground of his general objection to contraversy,
Lyell’s contemporaries were not without some inkling of
his esoteric doctrine. Whewell’s ‘ History of the Inductive
Sciences,’ whatever its philosophical value, is always worth
reading and always interesting, if under no other aspect than
that of an evidence of the speculative limits within which a
highly-placed divine might, at that time, safely range at will,
Tn the course of his discussion of uniformitarianism, the en-
eyclopaedic Master of Trinity observes :—
“Mr: Lyell, indeed, has spoken of an hypothesis that
the same sense, see the letter to Whewell, March 7, 1547, vl thy
“fn regard to this last subject [the changes from one sct of animal
gad vegetable species to another) . . . you remember what Herseliel saiit
fw bis Tetier to me, If f had stated as plainly as he has done the poosibil=
fty of the introduction or origination of fresh species being @ natural, in
contzadistinction to & mirscalous process. I should have raised « host of
rojodices against me, which ore unfortunately opposed st every step 10
Any:philosopher who attempts to address the public on these mysterious
subjects.” See also letter to Sedgwick, Jan. 29, 1858, ii. p. 36
THE ‘ORIGIN OF sprains” “7
‘Gould have avoided the inevitable corollary of the pithecoid
‘of man—for which, to the end of his life, he enter.
tained a profound antipathy—he would have advocated the
‘efficiency of eauses now in operation to bring about the con~
ditivw of the organic world, #5 stoutly as he championed that
doctrine in reference to inorganic nature,
‘The fact is, that a discerning eye might have seen that
‘sonie form oF other of the doctrine of transmutation was inevi-
from the time when the truth enunciated by William
Smith that successive strata are characterised by different
kinds of fossil remains, became a firmly established law of
‘nature, No one has set forth the speculative consequences
‘of this generalisation better than the historian of the * Induc-
tive Sciences *:—
“But the study of geology opens to us the spectacle of
tmaby groups of species which have, in the course of the earth’s
History, succeeded each other at vast intervals of time; one
set of animals and plants disappearing, as it would seem,
from the face of our planet, and others, which did not before
‘is segaments at Grit made on my mind, all the greater because Constant
Prevent, x pupil of Cuvier's forty years ago, told me hw conviction * that
‘Cuvier thought species not real, but that sclence could not advance with-
‘out gesting vhat they were so," "
To Hooker, March 9, 1863 (vol. ii. p. $61,), in reference to Darwin's
feeling aboot the * Antiquity of Man”
He [Darwin] stems miich disappointed that T lo wot go fartber with
iin, oF do not speak out wore, T can only say that T have spoken out to
the fall extcnt of my present convictions, and even beyoud my state of
fecting 2x 10 man's wnbroken descent from the bruter, and 1 find J sm
half converting not 3 few who were in arms against Darwin, and are even
‘RoW agninst Huxley.” Ho speaks of having had to abandon ** old and
Tong cherished ideas, which constituied the charm t9 me of the theoretical
part of the science in my eailier day. when T believed with Pateal in the
theory, a4 Hallam terms it, of “the arch-sngel ruined.’ *
See the exme sentiment in the letter to Darwio, March 27, 86%
T think the old ‘ereation * is almost ay much required a» ever, but af
Course it takes a new form if Lamarck's views improved by yours are
arlopted.”
THE (ORIGIN OF SPECIES” 440
cause we are ignorant of their causation—is 5 wholly un+
known to the historian of scientific ideas as it was to biologi«
cal specialists before 1358. Bur that suggestion is the central
idea of the ‘ Origin af Species," and contains the quintessence
of Daewinism,
‘Thus, looking back into the past, it eeems to me that my
own position of critical expectancy was just and reasonable,
and imust have been taken up, on the same grounds, by many
other persons. If Agassi¢ told me that the forms of life
which had successively tenanted the globe were the incamna-
tions of successive thoughts of the Deity; and that he had
wiped out one set of these embodiments by an appalling
geological catastrophe as soon as His ideas took 4 more
advanced shape, I found myself not only unable to admit the
aceuracy of the deductions from the facts of paleontology,
upon which this astounding hypothesis was founded, but T
had to confess my want of any means of testing the correct-
ness of his explanation of them. And besides that, I could
by no,means see what the explanation explained, Neither
did it help me to be told by an eminent anatomist that species
had succeeded one another in time, in virtue of “a contina-
‘ously operative creational Jaw." That seemed to me to be
no more than saying that species had succeeded one another,
in the form of a vote-catching resolution, with “law” to please
the man of science, and “creational to draw the orthodox,
So I took refuge in that “shatige Skypsis" which Goethe has
40 well defined ; and, reversing the apostolic precept to be
all things to all men, I usually defended the tenability of the
received doctrines, when I had to do with the transmutation-
ists; and stood up for the possibility of transmutation among
the orthodox—thereby, no doubt, increasing an already
current, but quite undeserved, reputation for needless com-
bativeness,
T remember, in the course of my first interview with Mr,
Darwin, expressing my belief in the sharpness of the lines of
demarcation between natural groups and in the absence of
transitional forms, with all the confidence of youth and im-
THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES” 558
‘Deomght face to face with facts and have their validity tested.
‘The ‘Origin’ provided us with the working hypothesis we
sought. Moreover, it did the immense service of freeing us |
for ever from ‘the dilemma—refuse to accept the creation
‘hypotiiesisjaind what have you to propose that can be accepted
by any cautious reasoner? In 1857, 1 had no answer ready,
and/I do not think that any one cle had. A year later, we
reproached ourselves with dulness for being perplexed by
such an inquiry. My reflection, when I first made miySelt
master of the central idea of the ‘Origin,’ was, “How exeo+~
tremely stupid not to have thought of that!” 1 suppose that
Columbus’ companions said much the same when he made
the egg stand onend. The facts of variability, of the struggle
for existence, of adaptation to conditions, were notorious
enough ; but none of us had suspected that the road to the
heart of the species problem lay through them, until Darwin
and Wallace dispelled the darkness, and the beacon-fire of
the “Origin * guided the benighted,
Whether the particular shape which the doctrine of evolu~
tion, as applied to the organic world, took in Darwin's hands,
would prove to be final or not, was, to me, a matter of in~
difference. In my earliest criticisms of the Origin” Pven-
tured to point out that its logical foundation was insecure so
Jong.as experiments in.sclective breeding had not produced
varieties which were more or less infertile ; and that inse~
curity remains up to the present time. But, with any and
every critical doubt which my sceptical ingenuity could sug-
fest, the Darwinian hypothesis remained incomparably more
probable than the creation hypothesis. And if we had none
‘of ns been able to discern the paramount significance of some
of the most.patent and notorious nf natural facts, until-they
wereyso to speak, thrust under our noses, what farce remained
in thevdilemma—creation or nothing? It was obvious that,
hereafter, the probability would be immensely greater, that the
Yinks of natural causation were hidden from our purblind
eyes, than that natural causation should be incompetent to
produce all the phenomena of nature, The only tational
|
THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES" 553
‘The most singular of these, perhaps immortal, fallacies,
which live on, Tithonus-like, when sense and force have long
deserted them, is that which charges Mx_Darwin with,haying
auemipted to reinstace'the old, pagan goddess, Chance, It ix
said that he supposes variations to come about “ by chance,”
and that the fittest survive the “chances” of the strugule for
existence, and thus “hance” Ts substituted fon prowidential
design.
Teis not a little wonderful that such an accusation as this
should be brought against a writer who has, aver and over
again, warned his readers that when he uses the word ““spon-
taneous," he merely means that he is ignorant of the cause of
that which is so termed ; and whose whole theory crumbles
to pieces if the uniformity and regularity of natural causation
for Ulimitable past ages is denied. But probably the best
answer to thase who talk.of Darwinism meaning the reign of
“chance,” is to ask them what they themselves understand
by “chance”? Do they believe that anything in this universe
happens without reason or without a cause? Do they really
conceive that any event has no cause, and could not have
been predicted by any one who had a sufficient insight into
the order of Nature? {f they do, it is they who are the
inheritors of antique superstition and ignorance, and whase
minds have never been illumined by a ray of scientific
thought, ‘The one act of faith in the convert to science, is
the confession of the universality of order and of the absolute
‘validity in all times and under all circumstances, of the law
of causation, ‘This confession is an act of faith, because,
by the nature of the case, the truth of such propositions is
not susceptible of proof. But such faith is not blind, but
reasonable ; because it is invariably confirmed by experience,
and constitutes the sole trustworthy foundation for all action,
If one of these people, in whom the chance-worship of
OUF Tempter ancestors thus strangely survives, should be
within reach of the sex when a heavy gale is blowing, let him
‘Detake himself to the shore and watch the scene. Let him
note the infinite variety of form and size of the towsing waves
«
lie forces® possessed by the molecules of which the
nebulosity of the universe was composed. If this
‘true, it is no less certain that the existing world lay poten-
in ‘the cosmic vapour, and that a sul
‘could, from a knowledge of the properties of the molecules of
that vapour, have predicted, say the state of the fauna of
"Britain in 1869, peeran stich certainty as-one can say what
will happen to the vapour of the breath on a cold winter's
« ... The teleological and the mechanical views of na~
ture are not, necessarily, mutually exclusive, On the con=
trary, the more purely a mechanist the speculator is, the more
firmly docs he assume a primordial molecular arrangement of
which all the phenomena of the universe are the conse=
quences, and the more completely is he thereby at the mercy.
of the telealogist, who can always defy him to disprove that
this primordial molecular arrangement was not intended to
evolve the phenomena of the universe.” |
‘The acute champion of ‘Teteclogy, Paley, saw no difficulty
in admitting that the " production of things" may be the
result of trains of mechanical dispositions fixed beforchand
by appointment and kept in action by a power at
the centre, t that is to say, he proleptically accepted the mod-
em doctrine of Evolution ; and his successors might do well
to follow their leader, or at any rate to attend to his weighty
reasonings, before rushing into an antagonism which has no
reasonable foundation,
| Having got rid of the belief in chance and the disbelicf
in design, as in no sense appurtenanees of Evolution, the
| thiedwlibel:wponethat’ doetring, that it is anti-theisticy might
sperhaps bellefttowlife for itsel, But the persistence with
which many people refuse to draw the plainest consequences
* Lahould now like to substitute the word powers for * forces!"
+ The "Genealogy of Animals” ("The Academy,’ 3869), reprinted in
“Critiques and Astdrewes”
4 Natur! Theology, chap. sxiti,
‘THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES.’ $57
of the scientific conception of order is Providence ; and the
doctrine of determinism follows as surely from the attributes of
foreknowledge assumed by the theologian, as from the uni-
‘ersality of natural causation assumed by the man of science.
‘The angels in * Paradixe Lost” would have found the task of
eolightoning Adam upon the mysteries of “ Fate, Foreknowl-
edge, and Free-will,” not a whit more difficult, if their papil
had been educated in a“ Real-schule" and trained in every
laboratory af a modern university. Tn respect of the great
problems of Philosophy, the post-Darwinian generation is,
in one sense, exactly where the pre-Darwinian generations
were. They remain insoluble, But the present generation
has the advantage of being better provided with the means of
frecing itself from the tyranny of certain sham solutions.
The known is finite, the unknown infinite; intellectually
we stand on an islet in the midst of an illimitable ocean of
inexplicability. Our business in every generation is'to reclaim
‘a little more land, to add something to the extent and the so
lidity of our possessions And even a cursory glance at the
history of the biological sciences during the last quarter of a
century is sufficient to justify the assertion, that the mast
potent instrument for the extension of the realm of nataral
knowledge which has come into men’s hands, since the pub-
lication of Newton's ‘ Principia,’ is Darwin's ‘Origin of Spe-
cies’
Tt was badly received by the generation to which it was
first addressed, and the outpouring af angry nansense to which
it gave rise is sad to think upon. But the present generation
will probably behave just as badly if another Darwit'should
arisepand inflict upon them that which the generality of man,
Kii@most bate—the necessity of revising their convictions.
Let them, then, be charitable tous ancients; and if they
behave no better than the men of my day to some new bene=
factor, let them recollect that, after all, our wrath did not
come to much, and vented itself chiefly in the bad language
‘of sanctimonious scolds, Let them as speedily perform a
strategic rightaboutface, and follow the truth wherever it
|
338 ON THE RECEPTION OF THE ‘ORIGIN OF SPECIES?
leads, The» opponents, of 1he.new-trathewill discover, as
those of Darwin-are doing, that, after-allystheories. do. pot
alter facts, and thatthe universe. remains unaficeted-even
thaugh,texts crumble. Or, it may be, that, as history repeats
itself, their happy ingenuity willvalsondiscower tliat, the new
wine is ecaactly of the same vintage es the®old, and-thar
{rightly viewed) the old bottles prove to bave becm expressly
made for holding st.
END OF VOLUME ONE.
39 29621
| er
36305 O03 756 Lb?
Stanford Uni Libraries
Stanford Galidoen
‘Return thia book on or before date due.