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FROM A PHOTOGRAPH (1854?) BY MESSRS. MAULL AND FOX. ENGRAVED FOR
' HARPER'S MAGAZINE,' OCTOBER 1884.

Frontitpiece, Vol. 1.

LIFE AND LETTERS

CHARLES DARWIN,

INCLUDING

AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CHAPTER

EDITED BY HIS SON,

FRANCIS DARWIN.

IN THREE VOLUMES:— VOL. I.

SEVENTH THOUSAND REVISED.

• LONDON:

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1888.

Q H 3 6

$$?

\J.

THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES, BY MEANS OF
NATURAL SELECTION ; or, THE PRESERVATION OF
FAVOURED RACES IN THE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. A New
Library Edition in Large Type. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 12s.

THE DESCENT OF MAN, AND SELECTION IN
RELATION TO SEX. A New Library Edition in Large
Type. Woodcuts. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 15*.

LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STRBET
AND CHARING CROSS.

PREFACE.

^ IN choosing letters for publication I have been largely guided

by the wish to illustrate my father's personal character. But

•^ his life was so essentially one of work, that a history of the

.- man could not be written 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.

In arranging the letters I have adhered as far as possible to
chronological sequence, but the character and variety of his
researches make a strictly chronological order an impossibility.
It was his habit to work more or less simultaneously at
several subjects. Experimental work was often carried on as
a refreshment 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 after 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 I have attempted to
avoid this result. It will be seen, for instance, that the second

iv PREFACE.

volume is not chronologically continuous with the first. Again,
in the third volume, the botanical work, which principally
occupied my father during the later years of his life, is treated
in a separate series of chapters.

In printing the letters I have followed (except in a few
cases) the usual plan of indicating the existence of omissions
or insertions. My father's letters give frequent evidence of
having been written when he was tired or hurried. In a letter
to a friend, or to one of his family, he frequently omitted the
articles : these have been inserted without the usual indica-
tions, except in a few instances (e.g. Vol. I. p. 203), where it is
of special interest to preserve intact the hurried character of
the letter. Other small words, such as of, to, &c., have been
inserted, usually within brackets. My father underlined many
words in his letters ; these have not always been given in
italics, — a rendering which would have unfairly exaggerated
their effect. I have not followed the originals as regards the
spelling of names, the use of capital letters, or in the matter
of punctuation.

The Diary or Pocket-book, from which quotations occur in
the following pages, has been of value as supplying 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 impossible 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.

PREFACE. V

Of letters addressed to my father I have not made much
use. It was his custom to file all letters received, and when
his slender stock of files ("spits" as he called them) was
exhausted, he would burn the letters of several years, in order
that he might make use of the liberated " spits." This process,
carried on for years, destroyed nearly all letters received
before 1862. After that date he was persuaded to keep the
more interesting letters, and these are preserved in an
accessible form.

I have attempted to give, in Chapter III., some account ot
his manner of working. During the last eight years of his
life I acted as his assistant, and thus had an opportunity of
knowing something of his habits and methods.

I have received much help from my friends in the course of
my work. To some I am indebted for reminiscences of my
father, to others for information, criticisms, and advice. To all
these kind coadjutors I gladly acknowledge my indebtedness.
The names of some occur in connection with their contribu-
tions, but I do not name those to whom I am indebted for
criticisms or corrections, because I should wish to bear alone
the load of my short-comings, rather than to let any of it fall
on those who have done their best to lighten it.

It will be seen how largely I am indebted to Sir Joseph
Hooker for the means of illustrating my father's life. The
readers of these pages will, I think, be grateful to Sir Joseph
for the care with which he has preserved his valuable collec-
tion of letters, and I should wish to add my acknowledgment
of the generosity with which he has placed it at my disposal,
and for the kindly encouragement given throughout my work.

To Mr. Huxley I owe a debt of thanks, not only for much
kind help, but for his willing compliance with my request that

vi PREFACE.

he should contribute a chapter on the reception of the ' Origin
of Species.'

Finally, it is a pleasure to acknowledge the courtesy of the
publishers of the ' Century Magazine ' and of ' Harper's
Magazine/ who have freely given me the use of their illustra-
tions. To Messrs. Maull and Fox and Messrs. Elliott and Fry
I am also indebted for their kindness in allowing me the use
of reproductions of their photographs.

FRANCIS DARWIN.

CAMBRIDGE,
October, 1887.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

VOLUME I.

PAGE

CHAPTER I.— THE DARWIN FAMILY i

CHAPTER II.— AUTOBIOGRAPHY 26

CHAPTER III.— REMINISCENCES . . . . .108

LETTERS.
CHAPTER IV.— CAMBRIDGE LIFE— 1828-1831 . . 163

CHAPTER V.— THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE' —

1831 185

CHAPTER VI.— THE VOYAGE— 1831-1836 . . .217
CHAPTER VII. — LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE — 1836-1842 . 272

CHAPTER VIII.— RELIGION 304

CHAPTER IX.— LIFE AT DOWN— 1842-1854 . . .318

VOLUME II.

CHAPTER I. — THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE ' ORIGIN OF

SPECIES' — 1837-1844 ...... i

CHAPTER II.— THE GROWTH OF THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES'

—1843-1856 19

CHAPTER III.— THE UNFINISHED BOOK — MAY 1856-

JUNE 1858 67

viii CONTENTS.

PACE

CHAPTER IV.— THE WRITING OF THE « ORIGIN OF SPECIES'

— JUNE 18, i858-Nov. 1859 . . . . .115

CHAPTER V. — PROFESSOR HUXLEY ON THE RECEPTION

OF THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES' ..... 179

CHAPTER VI. — THE PUBLICATION OF THE ' ORIGIN OF

SPECIES' — OCT. 3, 1859 TO DEC. 31, 1859 . . 205

CHAPTER VII.— THE 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES' (continued}—

1860 ......... 256

CHAPTER VIII.— THE SPREAD OK EVOLUTION— 1861-1862 356

VOLUME III.

CHAPTER I. — THE SPREAD OF EVOLUTION. 'VARIATION

OF ANIMALS AND PLANTS' — 1863-1866 . . . i

CHAPTER II.— THE PUBLICATION OF THE 'VARIATION
OF ANIMALS AND PLANTS UNDER DOMESTICATION ' —
JAN. i86y-JUNE 1868 59

CHAPTER III.— WORK ON ' MAN '—1864-1870 . . 89

CHAPTER IV. — THE PUBLICATION OF THE ' DESCENT OF
MAN.' THE 'EXPRESSION OF THE EMOTIONS' — 1871-
1873 '3i

CHAPTER V. — MISCELLANEA, INCLUDING SECOND EDITIONS
OF ' CORAL REEFS,' THE ' DESCENT OF MAN,' AND THE
'VARIATION OF ANIMALS AND PLANTS' — 1874-1875 . 181

CHAPTER VI.— MISCELLANEA (continued}. A REVIVAL OF
GEOLOGICAL WORK — THE BOOK ON EARTHWORMS —
LIFE OF ERASMUS DARWIN — MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS —
1876-1882 ........ an

CONTENTS. IX

BOTANICAL LETTERS.

PACK

CHAPTER VII. — FERTILISATION OF FLOWERS— 1839-1880 254

CHAPTER VIIL— THE < EFFECTS OF CROSS- AND SELF-
FERTILISATION IN THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM' — 1866-
1877 28-9

CHAPTER IX. — ' DIFFERENT FORMS OF FLOWERS ON

PLANTS OF THE SAME SPECIES' — 1860-1878 . . 295

CHAPTER X. — CLIMBING AND INSECTIVOROUS PLANTS —

1863-1875 311

CHAPTER XL— THE 'POWER OF MOVEMENT IN PLANTS'

—1878-1881 329

CHAPTER XII. — MISCELLANEOUS BOTANICAL LETTERS —

1873-1882 339

CHAPTER XIII.— CONCLUSION 355

APPENDICES.

APPENDIX I. — THE FUNERAL IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY . 360

APPENDIX II.— LIST OF WORKS BY C. DARWIN . . 362

APPENDIX III.— PORTRAITS 371

APPENDIX IV.— HONOURS, DEGREES, SOCIETIES, &c. . 373

INDEX 377

VOL. I.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

VOLUME I.

Frontispiece: CHARLES DARWIN IN 1854 (?). From ' Harper's
Magazine ' : the Photograph by Messrs. Maull and Fox.
THE STUDY AT DOWN. From the ' Century Magazine ' . ioS-
THE HOUSE AT DOWN. From the 'Century Magazine'

to face page 320
THE 'BEAGLE 'LAID ASHORE . . . . .217

VOLUME II.

Frontispiece: CHARLES DARWIN IN 1874 (?). From the
' Century Magazine ' : the Photograph by Captain
L. Darwin, R.E.

FACSIMILE OF A PAGE FROM A NOTE-BOOK OF 1837. Photo-
lithographed by the Cambridge Scientific Instrument
Company tofacepagc 5

VOLUME III.

Frontispiece: CHARLES DARWIN IN 1881. From a Photo-
graph by Messrs. Elliott and Fry.

LIFE AND LETTERS

CHAPTER I.

THE DARWIN FAMILY.

THE earliest records of the family show the Darvvins to have
been substantial yeomen residing on the northern borders of
Lincolnshire, close to Yorkshire. The name is now very
unusual in England, but I believe that it is not unknown
in the neighbourhood of Sheffield and in Lancashire. Down
to the year 1600 we find the name spelt in a variety of ways
— Derwent, Darwen, Darwynne, &c. It is possible, therefore,
that the family migrated at some unknown date from York-
shire, Cumberland, or Derbyshire, where Derwent occurs as
the name of a river.

The first ancestor of whom we know was one William
Darwin, who lived, about the year 1500, at Marton, near
Gainsborough. His great grandson, Richard Darwyn, in-
herited land at Marton and elsewhere, and in his will, dated
1584, "bequeathed the sum of $s. ^d. towards the settynge up
of the Queene's Majestie's armes over the quearie (choir)
doore in the parishe churche of Marton." *

The son of this Richard, named William Darwin, and
described as " gentleman," appears to have been a successful

* We owe a knowledge of these Lincoln, made by the well-known
earlier members of the family to genealogist, Colonel Chester,
researches amongst the wills at

VOL. I. B

2 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

man. Whilst retaining his ancestral land at Marton, he
acquired through his wife and by purchase an estate at
Cleatham, in the parish of Manton, near Kirton Lindsey, and
fixed his residence there. This estate remained in the family
down to the year 1760. A cottage with thick walls, some
fish-ponds and old trees, now alone show where the "Old
Hall " once stood, and a field is still locally known as the
4 Darwin Charity," from being subject to a charge in favour
of the poor of Marton. William Darwin must, at least in part,
have owed his rise in station to his appointment in 1613 by
James I. to the post of Yeoman of the Royal Armoury of
Greenwich. The office appears to have been worth only ,£33
a year, and the duties were probably almost nominal ; he
held the post down to his death during the Civil Wars.

The fact that this William was a royal servant may explain
why 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 Covenant,
and on his paying a fine which must have struck his finances,
severely ; for in a petition to Charles II. he speaks of his.
almost utter ruin from having adhered to the royal cause.

During the Commonwealth, William Darwin became a
barrister of Lincoln's Inn, 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
born in 1655, 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

THE DARWIN FAMILY. 3

family.* A portrait of this William Darwin at Elston shows
him as a good-looking young man in a full-bottomed wig.

This third William had two sons, William, and Robert who
was educated as a barrister. The Cleatham property was
left to William, but on the termination of his line in daughters
reverted to the younger brother, who had received Elston.
On his mother's death Robert gave up his profession and
resided ever afterwards at Elston Hall. Of this Robert,
Charles Darwin writes f : —

" He seems to have had some taste for science, for he was
an early member of the well-known Spalding Club ; and the
celebrated antiquary Dr. Stukeley, in ' An Account of the
almost entire Sceleton of a large Animal,' &c., published in
the 'Philosophical Transactions,' April and May 1719, begins
the paper as follows : ' Having an account from my friend,
Robert Darwin, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn, a person of curiosity,
of a human sceleton impressed in stone, found lately by the
rector of Elston,' &c. Stukeley then speaks of it as a great
rarity, ' the like whereof has not been observed before in this
island to my knowledge.' Judging from a sort of litany
written by Robert, and handed down in the family, he was
a strong advocate of temperance, which his son ever after-
wards so strongly advocated : —

From a morning that doth shine,

From a boy that drinketh wine,

From a wife that talketh Latine,

Good Lord deliver me !

* Captain Lassells, or Lascelles, Captain Lassells in armour, although
of Elston was military secretary to used at one time as an archery-
Monk, Duke of Albemarle, during target by some small boys of our
the Civil Wars. A large volume of name, was not irretrievably ruined,
account-books, countersigned in f What follows is quoted from
many places by Monk, are now in Charles Darwin's biography of his
the possession of my cousin Francis grandfather, forming the prelimi-
Darwin. The accounts might pos- nary notice to Ernst Krause's inte-
sibly prove of interest to the anti- resting essay, ' Erasmus Darwin,
quarian or historian. A portrait of London, 1879, P« 4-

B 2

4 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

" It is suspected that the third line may be accounted for by
his wife, the mother of Erasmus, having been a very learned
lady. The eldest son of Robert, christened Robert Waring,
succeeded to the estate of Elston, and died there at the ajre 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 beautifully 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 cali-
graphy should be wasted. But this was hardly just, as the
work contains many curious notes on biology — 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, transmitted Elston to
his granddaughter, the late Mrs. Danvin, 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 poet 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 William Danvin Fox, one of his earliest
correspondents, and Francis Galton, with whom he main-
tained a warm friendship for many years. Here also occurs
the name of Francis Sachevercl Danvin, 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 see how far a man's personal
characteristics can be traced in his forefathers. Charles Dar-
win inherited the tall stature, but not the bulky figure of

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6 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

Erasmus ; but in his features there is no traceable resem-
blance to those of his grandfather. Nor, it appears, had
Erasmus the love of exercise and of field-sports, so cha-
racteristic of Charles Darwin as a young man, though he
had, like his grandson, an indomitable love of hard mental
work. Benevolence 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
imagination " of which he speaks as strongly characteristic
of Erasmus, and as leading "to his overpowering tendency
to theorise and generalise." This tendency, in the case
of Charles Darwin, was fully kept in check by the deter-
mination 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 poet as
well as a philosopher. He writes of Erasmus : * " Through-
out his letters I 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 his
works." These, indeed, seem indications of traits most
strikingly prominent in his own character. Yet we get no
evidence in Erasmus of the intense 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 Darwin's
character to attempt more than a superficial comparison ; and
I am left with an impression that, in spite of many resem-
blances, the two men were of a different type. It has been
shown that Miss Seward and Mrs. Schimmelpenninck have
misrepresented Erasmus Darwin's character.f It is, however,
extremely probable that the faults which they exaggerate
* 'Life of Erasmus Darwin,' p. 68. f Ibid. pp. 77, 79, Sac.

ERASMUS DARWIN. 7

•were to some extent characteristic of the man ; and this
leads me to think that Erasmus had a certain acerbity or
severity of temper which did not exist in his grandson.

The sons of Erasmus Darwin inherited in some degree
his intellectual tastes, for Charles Darwin writes of them as
follows* : —

"His eldest son, Charles (born September 3, 1758), was a
young man of extraordinary promise, but died (May 15, 1778)
before he was twenty-one years old, from the effects of a
wound received whilst dissecting the brain of a child. He in-
herited from his father a strong taste for various branches of
science, for writing verses, and for mechanics . . . He also
inherited stammering. With the hope of curing him, his
father sent him to France, when about eight years old (1766-
67), with a private tutor, thinking that if he was not allowed
to speak English for a time, the habit of stammering might
be lost ; and it is a curious fact, that in after years, when
speaking French, he never stammered. At a very early
age he collected specimens of all kinds. When sixteen
years old he was sent for a year to [Christ Church] Oxford,
but he did not like the place, and thought (in the words of
his father) that the 'vigour of his mind languished in the
pursuit of classical elegance like Hercules at the distaff, and
sighed to be removed to the robuster exercise of the medical
school of Edinburgh.' He stayed three years at Edinburgh,
working hard at his medical studies, and attending 'with
diligence all the sick poor of the parish of Waterleith, and
supplying them with the necessary medicines.' The yEscu-
lapian Society awarded him its first gold medal for an experi-
mental inquiry on pus and mucus. Notices of him appeared
in various journals ; and all the writers agree about his
uncommon energy and abilities. He seems like his father
to have excited the warm affection of his friends. Professor
Andrew Duncan .... spoke .... about him with the
* ' Life of Erasmus Darwin,' p. 80.

8 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

warmest affection forty-seven years after his death when
I was a young medical student at Edinburgh . . .

" About the character of his second son Erasmus (born 1759),
I have little to say, for though he wrote poetry, he seems to
have had none of the other tastes of his father. He had,
however, his own peculiar tastes, viz. genealogy, the collecting
of coins, and statistics. When a boy he counted all the
houses in the city of Lichfield, and found out the number of
inhabitants in as many as he could ; he thus made a census,
and when a real 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 so dis-
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 30, 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 f him to Shrewsbury before he was
twenty-one years old (1787), and left him £20, saying, 'Let
me know when you want more, and I will send it you.' His
uncle, the rector of Elston, afterwards also sent him £20, and

* I owe this information to the that Professor Rauwenhoff is able

kindness of Professor Rauwenhoflf, to tell me that my grandfather lived

Director of the Archives at Leyden. together with a certain " Petrus

He quotes from the catalogue of Crompton, Anglus," in lodgings in

doctors that " Robertus Waring the Apothekersdijk. Dr. Darwin's

Darwin, Anglo-britannus,"defended Leyden dissertation was published

(Feb. 26, 1785) in the Senate a in the ' Philosophical Transactions,'

Dissertation on the coloured images and my father used to say that the

seen after looking at a bright object, work was in fact due to Erasmus

and " Medicince Doctor creatusest Darwin. — F. D.
a clar. Paradijs." The archives of f ' Life of Erasmus Darwin,'

Leyden University are so complete p. 85.

DR. R. W. DARWIN. 9

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,
practice."

Robert Waring Darwin married (April 18, 1796) Susannah,
the daughter of his father's friend, Josiah Wedgwood, of
Etruria, then in her thirty-second year. We have a miniature
of her, with a remarkably sweet and happy face, bearing some
resemblance to the portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds of her
father ; a countenance expressive of the gentle and sym-
pathetic nature which Miss Meteyard ascribes to her.f She
died July 15, 1817, thirty-two years before her husband, whose
death occurred on November 13, 1848. Dr. Danvin lived
before his marriage for two or three years on St. John's Hill,
afterwards at the Crescent, where his eldest daughter Marianne
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. Darwin about 1800, it is now
in the possession of Mr. Spencer Phillips, and has under-
gone but little alteration. It is a large, plain, square,
red-brick house, of which the most attractive feature is the
pretty green-house, 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
chestnut, the branches of which bend back parallel to them-
selves in a curious manner, and this was Charles Darwin's

* The statement that Dr. R. W. Darwin that he got ^1000 under

Darwin received no pecuniary as- his mother's settlement, and ^400

sistance beyond £20 from his father, from his aunt, Susannah Danvin.
and a like sum from his uncle, is t ' A Group of Englishmen,' by

incorrect. It appears from papers Miss Meteyard, 1871.
in the possession of Mr. Reginald

10 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

favourite tree as a boy, where he and his sister Catherine had
each their special seat.

The Doctor took great pleasure in his garden, planting it
with ornamental trees and shrubs, and being especially suc-
cessful in fruit-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
illustrating Dr. Darwin's natural-history tastes, I have not
been able to hear from those most capable of knowing. Miss
Meteyard's account of him is not quite accurate in a few
points. For instance, it is incorrect to describe Dr. Darwin as
having a philosophical mind ; his was a mind especially given
to detail, and not to generalising. Again, those who knew him
intimately describe him as eating remarkably little, so that
he was not " a great feeder, eating a goose for his dinner, 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 chiefly 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
respect for his father's memory. His recollection of every-
thing that was connected with him was peculiarly distinct,
and he spoke of him frequently ; generally prefacing an anec-
dote 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 opinions, so that he was able to
quote some maxims or hint of his in most cases of illness.
As a rule he put small faith in doctors, and thus his
unlimited belief in 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 dis-
* ' A Group of Englishmen,' p. 263.

DR. R. W. DARWIN. II

passionately, but anything his father had said was received
with almost implicit faith. His daughter Mrs. Litchfield
remembers him saying that he hoped none of his sons would
•ever believe anything because he said it, unless they were
themselves convinced of its truth, — a feeling in striking con-
trast with his own 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 mis-
taken hospitality remained with the party during the whole
visit. As they were leaving, Charles Darwin said, with a
pathetic look of regret, " If I could have been left alone in
that green-house for five minutes, I know I 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 illustrate well his feeling towards his father. She
describes him as saying with the most tender respect, " I
think my father was a little unjust to me when I was young,
but afterwards I 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 reviewing the whole relation, and the remem-
brance left a deep sense of peace and gratitude.

What follows was added by Charles Darwin to his autobio-
graphical 'Recollections/ and was written about 1877 or 1878.

" I may here add a few pages about my father, who was in
many ways a remarkable man.

" He was about 6 feet 2 inches in height, with broad
shoulders, and very corpulent, so that he was the largest
man whom I ever saw. When he last weighed himself, he

12 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

was 24 stone, but afterwards increased much in weight.
His chief mental characteristics were his powers of obser-
vation and his sympathy, neither of which have I ever seen
exceeded or even equalled. His sympathy was not only
with the distresses of others, but in a greater degree with
the pleasures of all 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, Mr. B , a small manufacturer in Shrewsbury,

came to him one day, and said he should be bankrupt unless
he could at once borrow j£ 10,000, but that he was unable to
give any legal security. My father heard his reasons for
believing that he could ultimately repay the money, and from
[his] intuitive perception of character felt sure that he was
to be trusted. So he advanced this sum, which was a very
large one for him while young, and was after a time repaid.

" I 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 horses 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 remark-
able, 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 his life, 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 as a
schoolboy in reading 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

DR. R. W. DARWIN. 13

any misery, as 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 in-
stances husbands and wives had gone on pretty well together
for between twenty and thirty years, and then hated each
other bitterly ; this he attributed to their having lost a
common bond in their young children having grown up.

" But the most remarkable power which my father possessed
was that of reading the characters, and even the thoughts of
those whom he saw even for a short time. We had many
instances of the power, some of which seemed almost super-
natural. 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 Shrews-
bury, and seemed to be a rich man ; everybody called on
him, and he was invited to many houses. My father called,
and on his return home told my sisters on no account to
invite him or his family to our house ; for he felt sure that
the man was not to be trusted. After a few months he sud-
denly bolted, being heavily in debt, and was found out to be
little better than an habitual swindler. Here is a case of
trustfulness 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-
bury until he could receive a remittance from Ireland. He
then asked my father to lend him £20, which was immediately
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

14 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

the most profuse thanks, and enclosing, as he said, a £20 Bank
of England note, but no note was enclosed. I asked my
father whether this did not stagger him, but he answered
' not in the least.' On the next day another letter came
with many apologies for having forgotten (like a true Irish-
man) 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
him to accuse himself of all the crimes under heaven. When
my father afterwards talked over the matter with the uncle,
he said, ' I am sure that your nephew is really guilty of ...
a heinous crime.' Whereupon [the gentleman] said, 'Good God,
Dr. Darwin, who told you ; we thought that no human being
knew the fact except ourselves ! ' My father told me the
story many years after the event, and I asked him how he
distinguished the true from the false self-accusations ; and 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, aftenvards the first Marquis
of Lansdowne, was famous (as Macaulay somewhere remarks)
for his knowledge of the affairs of Europe, on which he
greatly 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 lady was surprised and grieved at this, and assured my
father that it was an excellent cheese, and had been sent her
from Bowood, the seat of Lord Shelburne. My father wondered
why a cheese should be sent her from Bowood, but thought
nothing more about it until it flashed across his mind many

DR. R. W. DARWIN. 15

years afterwards, whilst Lord Shelburne was talking about
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 conversation, 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, the Earl said, '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
struck with his diplomatic skill in guessing, for during many
years afterwards he received many kind messages from him
through various friends. I 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 grandson of
the first marquis) felt so much interest about me, whom he
had never seen, and my family. When forty new members
(the forty thieves as they were then called) were added to the
Athenaeum Club, there was much canvassing to be one of
them ; and without my having asked any one, Lord Lans-
downe proposed me and got me elected. If I am right in my
supposition, it was a queer concatenation of events that my
father not eating cheese half-a-century before in Holland led
to my election as a member of the Athenaeum.

" The sharpness of his observation led him to predict with
remarkable skill the course of any illness, and he suggested
endless small details of relief. I was told that a young doctor
in Shrewsbuiy, who disliked my father, used to say that he
was wholly unscientific, but owned that his power of predict-
ing the end of an illness was unparalleled. Formerly when
he thought that I should be a doctor, he talked much to me
about his patients. In the old days the practice of bleeding

1 6 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

largely was universal, but my father maintained that far more
evil was thus caused than good done ; and he advised me if
ever I was myself ill not to allow any doctor to take more
than an extremely small quantity of blood. Long before
typhoid fever was recognised as distinct, my father told me
that two utterly distinct kinds of illness were confounded
under the name of typhus fever. He was vehement against
drinking, and was convinced of both the direct and inherited
evil effects of alcohol when habitually taken even in moderate
quantity in a very large majority of cases. But he admitted
and advanced instances of certain persons who could drink
largely during their whole lives without apparently suffering
any evil effects, and he believed that he could often beforehand
tell who would thus not suffer. He himself never drank a
drop of any alcoholic fluid. This remark reminds me of a
case showing how a witness under the most favourable cir-
cumstances may be utterly mistaken. A gentleman-farmer
was strongly urged by my father not to drink, and was en-
couraged by being told that he himself never touched any
spirituous liquor. Whereupon the gentleman said, ' Come,
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 answered, ' 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 glass, which the girl mistook for gin, and
then filled it up with boiling water from the kitchen boiler.

" My father used to tell me many little things which he had
found useful in his medical practice. Thus ladies often

* This belief still survives, and 1884 by an old inhabitant of
was mentioned to my brother in Shrewsbury. — F. D.

DR. R. W. DARWIN. I/

cried 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 having 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 human nature.
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.
My father took a different view and maintained that the
gentleman would recover : he was proved quite wrong in all
respects (I think by autopsy) and he owned his error. He
was then convinced that he should never again be consulted
by this family ; but after a few months the widow sent for
him, having dismissed the old family doctor. My father vvas-
so much surprised at this, that he asked a friend of the
widow to find out why he was again consulted. The widow-
answered her friend, that ' she would never again see the odious,
old doctor who said from the first that her husband would die,
while Dr. Darwin always maintained that he would recover ! '
In another case my father told a lady that her husband would
certainly die. Some months afterwards he saw the widow
who was a very sensible woman, and she said, ' You are a very-
young man, and allow me to advise you always to give as

VOL. I. C

1 8 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

long as you possibly can, hope to any near relative nursing a
patient. You made me despair, and from that moment I lost
strength.' My father said that he had often since seen the
paramount importance, for the sake of the patient, of keeping
up the hope and with it the strength of the nurse in charge.
This he sometimes found difficult to do compatibly with
truth. One old gentleman, however, caused him no such

perplexity. He was sent for by Mr. P , who said, ' From

all that I have seen and heard of you I believe that you are
the sort of man who will speak the truth, and if I ask, you
will tell me when I am dying. Now I much desire that you
should attend me if you will promise, whatever I may say,
always to declare that I am not going to die.' My father
acquiesced on the understanding that his words should in fact
have no meaning.

" My father possessed an extraordinary memory, especially
for dates, so that he knew, when he was very old, the day of
the birth, marriage, and death of a multitude of persons in
Shropshire ; and he once told me that this power annoyed
him ; for if he once heard a date, he could not forget it ; and
thus the deaths of many friends were often recalled to his
mind. Owing to his strong memory he knew an extraordinary
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 was told that Miss , whom

my father had somehow mortally offended, was telling every-
body 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 have been more

DR. R. W. DARWIN. 19

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 I ever saw, weeping bitterly and asking me over and over
again, ' Is your father coming?' but was soon pacified. On
my return home, I asked my father why she was so fright-
ened, 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 not drive out for
exercise ; and he answered, ' Every road out of Shrewsbury is
associated in my mind with some painful event.' Yet 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 money by any investment, and left to his
children a very large property. I remember a story showing

how easily utterly false beliefs originate and spread. Mr. E ,

a squire of one of the oldest families in Shropshire, and head
partner in a bank, committed suicide. My father was sent for
as a matter of form, and found him dead. I may mention, by
the way, to show how matters 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 call at the bank (where
he had an account) to tell the managing partners of the event,
as it was not improbable that it would cause a run on the
bank. Well, the story was spread far and wide, that my
father went into the bank, drew out all his money, left the

C 2

20 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

bank, came back again, and said, ' I may just tell you that

Mr. E has killed himself,' and then departed. It seems

that it was then a common belief that money withdrawn 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
little time afterwards, when the managing partner said that
he had departed from his invariable rule of never allowing any
one to sec 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 out a penny on that
clay. It would have been dishonourable in my father to have
used his professional knowledge for his private advantage.
Nevertheless, the supposed act was greatly admired by some
persons ; and many years afterwards, a gentleman remarked,
' Ah, Doctor, what a splendid man of business you were in
so cleverly getting all your money safe out of that bank ! '

" My father's mind was not scientific, and he did not try to
generalise his knowledge under general laws ; yet he formed a
theory for almost everything which occurred. I do not think
I gained much from him intellectually ; but his example
ought to have been of much moral service to all his children.
One of his golden rules (a hard one to follow) was, 'Never
become the friend of any one whom you cannot respect.' "

Dr. Darwin had six children :* Marianne, married Dr. Henry
Parker; Caroline, married Josiah Wedgwood ; Erasmus Alvey ;
Susan, died unmarried ; Charles Robert ; Catherine, 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 School
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

• Of these Mrs. Wedgwood is now the sole survivor.

ERASMUS DARWIN THE YOUNGER. 21

practising as a doctor, and, after leaving Cambridge, lived a
quiet life in London.

There was something pathetic in Charles Darwin's affection
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 Ras," 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 pleasant
memory. Erasmus being rather more than four years older
than Charles Darwin, they were not long together at Cam-
bridge, but previously at Edinburgh they lived in the same
lodgings, and after the Voyage they lived for a time together
in Erasmus' house in Great Marlborough Street. At this
time also he often speaks with much affection of Erasmus
in his letters to Fox, using words such as " my dear good
old brother." In later years Erasmus Darwin came to Down
occasionally, or joined his brother's family in a summer
holiday. But gradually it came about that he could not,
through ill 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 written
by Charles Darwin at about the same time that the sketch
of his father was added to the ' Recollections ' : —

" My brother Erasmus possessed a remarkably clear mind
with extensive and diversified tastes and knowledge in litera-
ture, art, and even in science. For a short time he collected
and dried plants, and during a somewhat longer time ex-
perimented in chemistry. He was extremely agreeable, and
his wit often reminded me of that in the letters and works of
Charles Lamb. He was very kind-hearted. . . . His health
from his boyhood had been weak, and as a consequence he

22 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

failed in energy. His spirits were not high, sometimes low,
more especially during early and middle manhood. He read
much, even whilst a boy, and at school encouraged me to
read, lending me books. Our minds and tastes were, however,
so different, that I do not think I owe much to him intellectu-
ally. I am inclined to agree with Francis Galton in believing
that education and environment produce only a small effect
on the mind of any one, and that most of our qualities are
innate."

Erasmus Darwin s name, though not known to the general
public, may be remembered from the sketch of his character
in Carlyle's ' Reminiscences,' which I here reproduce in part: —

" Erasmus Darwin, a most diverse kind of mortal, came to
seek us out very soon (' had heard of Carlyle in Germany,
&c.') and continues ever since to be a quiet house-friend,
honestly attached ; though his visits latterly have been rarer
and rarer, health so poor, I so occupied, &c., &c. He had
something of original and sarcastically ingenious in him, one
of the sincerest, naturally truest, and most modest of men ;
elder brother of Charles Darwin (the famed Darwin on Species
of these days) to whom I rather prefer him for intellect, had
not his health quite doomed him to silence and patient idle-
ness. . . . My dear one had a great favour for this honest
Darwin always ; many a road, to shops and the like, he drove
her in his cab (Darwingium Cabbum comparable to Georgium
Sidus) in those early days when even the charge of omnibuses
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 kindliness
in the most unaffected form." *

Charles Darwin did not appreciate this sketch of his brother;
* Carlyle's ' Reminiscences,' vol. ii. p. 208.

ERASMUS DARWIN THE YOUNGER. 23

he thought Carlyle had missed the essence of his most
lovable nature.

I am tempted by the wish 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 portrait from Mr. Carlyle's portfolio not regretted by
any who loved the original, surely confers sufficient distinc-
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 affectionate
old friend of both the Carlyles, has left a circle of mourners
who need no tribute from illustrious 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 it, 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 idiosyncracies 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 of
his appreciation was not made known first in its posthumous
expression ; his letters of anxiety nearly thirty years ago,
when the frail life which has been prolonged to old age was
threatened by serious illness, are still fresh in my memory.
The friendship was equally warm with both husband and wife.
I remember well a pathetic little remonstrance from her

24 THE DARWIN FAMILY.

elicited by an avowal from Erasmus Darwin, that he preferred
cats to dogs, which she felt a slur on her little ' Nero ; ' and
the tones in which she said, ' Oh, but you are fond of dogs !
you are too kind not to be/ spoke of a long vista of small,
gracious kindnesses, remembered with a tender gratitude. He
was intimate also with a person whose friends, like those of
Mr. Carlyle, have not always had cause to congratulate them-
selves on their place in her gallery, — Harriet Martineau. I
have heard him more than once call her a faithful friend, and
it always seemed to me a curious tribute to something in the
friendship that he alone supplied ; but if she had written of
him at all, I 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 is
not possible to transfer the impression of a character ; we can
only suggest it by means of some resemblance ; and it is a
singular illustration of that irony which checks or directs our
sympathies, that in trying to give some 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
Erasmus Darwin had, to my mind, much the same charm as
the writings of Charles Lamb. There was the same kind of
playfulness, the same lightness of touch, the same tenderness,
perhaps the same limitations. On another side of his nature,
I have often been reminded of him by the quaint, delicate
humour, the superficial intolerance, the deep springs of pity,
the peculiar mixture of something pathetic with a sort of gay
scorn, entirely remote from contempt, which distinguish the
Ellesmere of Sir Arthur Helps' earlier dialogues. Perhaps
we recall such natures most distinctly, when such a resemblance
is all that is left of them. The character is not merged in the
creation ; and what we lose in the power to communicate our
impression, we seem to gain in its vividness. Erasmus Darwin

ERASMUS DARWIN THE YOUNGER. 25

has passed away in old age, yet his memory retains something
of a youthful fragrance ; his influence gave much happiness,
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 Danvin came, and may serve as an introduction to
the autobiographical chapter which follows.

26 )

CHAPTER II.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

[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 an impossibility; but those who knew
my father will understand how it was not only possible, but
natural. The autobiography bears the heading, 'Recollections-
of the Development of my Mind and Character,' and end with
the following note: — "Aug. 3, 1876. This sketch of my
life was begun about May 28th at Hopedenc,* and since
then I have written for nearly an hour on most afternoons."
It will easily be understood that, in a narrative of a personal
and intimate kind written for his wife and children, passages
should occur which must here be omitted ; and I have not
thought it necessary to indicate where such omissions are
made. It has been found necessary to make a few corrections,
of obvious verbal slips, but the number of such alterations,
has been kept down to the minimum. — F. D.]

A GERMAN 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 have read even

* Mr. Hcnsleigh Wedgwood's house in Surrey.

BOYHOOD. 27

so short and dull a sketch of the mind of my grand-
father, written by himself, and what he thought and
did, and how he worked. I have attempted to write
the following account of myself, as if I were a dead
man in another world looking back at my own life.
Nor have I found this difficult, for life is nearly over
with me. I have taken no pains about my style of
writing.

I was born at Shrewsbury on February i2th, 1809,
and my earliest recollection goes back only to when
I was a few months over four years old, when we
went to near Abergele for sea-bathing, and I recol-
lect some events and places there with some little
distinctness.

My mother died in July 1817, when I was a little
over eight years old, and it is odd that I can
remember hardly anything about her except her death-
bed, her black velvet gown, and her curiously con-
structed work-table. In the spring of this same year
I was sent to a day-school in Shrewsbury, where I
stayed a year. I have been told that I was much
slower in learning than my younger sister Catherine,
and I believe that I was in many ways a naughty boy.

By the time I went to this day-school * my taste

* Kept by Rev. G. Case, minister England ; and after his early boy-

of the Unitarian Chapel in the hood he seems usually to have gone

High Street. Mrs. Darwin was a to church and not to Mr. Case's.

Unitarian and attended Mr. Case's It appears (St. James' Gazette,

chapel, and my father as a little Dec. 15, 1883) that a mural tablet

boy went there with his elder has been erected to his memory in

sisters. But both he and his the chapel, which is now known

brother were christened and in- as the ' Free Christian Church.' —

tended to belong to the Church of F. D.

28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

for natural history, and more especially for collecting,
was well developed. I tried to make out the names
of plants,* and collected all sorts of things, shells,
seals, franks, coins, and minerals. 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.

One little event during this year has fixed itself
very firmly in my mind, and I hope that it has done
so from my conscience having been afterwards sorely
troubled by it ; it is curious as showing that appa-
rently I was interested at this early age in the varia-
bility of plants ! I told another little boy (I believe
it was Leighton, who afterwards became a well-known
lichenologist and botanist), that I could produce
variously 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 confess that as a
little boy I was much given to inventing deliberate
falsehoods, and this was always done for the sake of
causing excitement. For instance, I once gathered
much valuable fruit from my father's trees and hid
it in the shrubbery, and then ran in breathless

* Rev. W. A. Leighton, who was could be discovered. Mr. Leighton

a schoolfellow of my father's at Mr. goes on, "This greatly roused my

Case's school, remembers his bring- attention and curiosity, and I in-

ing a flower to school and saying quired of him repeatedly how this

that his mother had taught him could be done?" — but his lesson was

how by looking at the inside of the naturally enough not transmissible,

blossom the name of the plant — F. D.

BOYHOOD. 29

haste to spread the news that I had discovered a
hoard of stolen fruit.

I must have been a very simple little fellow when I
first went to the school. A boy of the name of
Garnett took me 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 instantly
answered, " Why, do you not know that my uncle left
a great sum of money to the town on condition that
every tradesman should give whatever was wanted
without payment to any one who wore his old hat and
moved [it] in a particular manner ?" and he then showed
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 payment. When we came
out he said, " Now if you like to go by yourself into
that cake-shop (how well I remember its exact posi-
tion) I will lend you my hat, and you can get what-
ever you like if you move the hat on your head
properly." I 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 being greeted
with shouts of laughter by my false friend Garnett.

I can say in my own favour that I was as a boy
humane, but I owed this entirely to the instruction
and example of my sisters. I doubt indeed whether
humanity is a natural or innate quality. I was very

30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 I took all, not for their value, but from
a sort of bravado.

I had a strong taste for angling, and would sit for
any number of hours on the bank of a river or pond
watchinc: 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 little boy whilst at the day school,
or before that time, I 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 remembering the
exact spot where the crime was committed. It 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 I 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 I can still see the horse with the man's
empty boots and carbine suspended to the saddle, and
the firing over the grave. This scene deeply stirred
whatever poetic fancy there was in me.

In the summer of 1818 I went to Dr. Butler's great

* The house of his uncle, Josiah Wedgwood.

BOYHOOD. 3 1

school in Shrewsbury, and remained there for seven
years till Midsummer 1825, when I was sixteen years
old. I boarded at this school, so that I 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 advanta-
geous 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 fleet runner was generally successful ;
but when in doubt I prayed earnestly to God to help
me, and I well remember that I attributed my success
to the prayers and not to my quick running, and
marvelled how generally I was aided.

I have heard my father and elder sister say that I
had, as a very young boy, a strong taste for long soli-
tary walks ; but what I thought about I know not. I
often became quite absorbed, and once, whilst return-
ing 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 side, I walked
off and fell to the ground, but the height was only
seven or eight feet. 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 believe, proved about each
thought requiring quite an appreciable amount of time.

Nothing could have been worse for the develop-

32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

ment of my mind than Dr. Butler's school, as it was
strictly classical, nothing else being taught, except a
little ancient geography and history. The school as
a means of education to me was simply a blank.
During my whole life I have been singularly incapable
of mastering any language. Especial attention was
paid to verse-making, and this I could never do well.
I had many friends, and got together a good collection
of old verses, which by patching together,, sometimes
aided by other boys, I could work into any subject.
Much attention was paid to learning by heart the
lessons of the previous day ; this I could effect with
great facility, learning forty or fifty lines of Virgil or
Homer, whilst I was in morning chapel ; but this
exercise was utterly useless, for every verse was for-
gotten in forty-eight hours. I was not idle, and with
the exception of versification, generally worked con-
scientiously at my classics, not using cribs. The sole
pleasure I ever received from such studies, was from
some of the odes of Horace, which I admired greatly.
When I left the school I was for my age neither
high nor low in it ; and I believe that I was con-
sidered by all my masters and by my father as a very
ordinary boy, rather below the common standard in
intellect. To my deep mortification my father once
said to me, " You care for nothing but shooting, dogs,
and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace to your-
self 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.

BOYHOOD. 33

Looking back as well as I can at my character
during my school life, the only qualities which 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 remember 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 used to sit for hours reading the
historical plays of Shakespeare, generally in an old
window in the thick walls of the school. I read also
other poetry, such as Thomson's ' Seasons,' and the
recently published poems of Byron and Scott. I
mention this because later in life I wholly lost, to my
great regret, all pleasure from poetry of any kind,
including Shakespeare. In connection with pleasure
from poetry, I may add that in 1822 a vivid delight
in scenery was first awakened in my mind, during a
riding tour on the borders of Wales, and this has
lasted longer than any other aesthetic pleasure.

Early in my school days a boy had a copy of the
' Wonders of the World,' which I often read, and dis-
puted with other boys about the veracity of some of
the statements ; and I believe that this book first gave
me a wish to travel in remote countries, which was
ultimately fulfilled by the voyage of the Beagle. In
VOL. i. D

34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

the latter part of my school life I became passionately
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 my excitement was so great that I
had much difficulty in 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
before a looking-glass to see that I threw it up straight.
Another and better plan was to get a friend to wave
about a lighted candle, and then to fire at it with a
cap on the nipple, and if the aim was accurate the
little puff of air would blow out the candle. The
explosion of the cap caused a sharp crack, and I was
told that the tutor of the college remarked, " What
an extraordinary thing it is, Mr. Darwin seems to
spend hours in cracking a horse-whip in his room,
for I often hear the crack when I pass under his
windows."

I had many friends amongst the schoolboys, whom
I loved dearly, and I think that my disposition was
then very affectionate.

With respect to science, I continued collecting
minerals with much zeal, but quite unscientifically —
all that I cared about was a wcvt-named mineral, and I
hardly attempted to classify them. I must have ob-
served insects with some little care, for when ten years
old (1819) I went for three weeks to Plas Edwards
on the sea-coast in Wales, I was very much interested
and surprised at seeing a large black and scarlet

BOYHOOD. 35

Hemipterous insect, many moths (Zygaena), and a
Cicindela which are not found in Shropshire. I almost
made up my mind to begin collecting all the insects
which I could find dead, for on consulting my sister I
concluded that it was not right to kill insects 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 I was allowed to aid him as a servant in most of
ihis experiments. He made all the gases and many
'Compounds, and I read with 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 some-
how got known at school, and as it was an unpre-
cedented fact, I was nicknamed " Gas." I was 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 I did not understand what he meant, it seemed to
me a fearful reproach.

As I was doing no good at school, my father wisely
•took me away at a rather earlier age than usual, and

D 2

36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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
I do not believe he ever really intended to practise,
and I was sent there to commence them. But 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 I should be so rich a

o o

man as I am ; but my belief was sufficient to check
any strenuous effort to learn medicine.

The instruction at Edinburgh was altogether by
lectures, and these were intolerably dull, with the
exception of those on chemistry by Hope ; but to my
mind there are no advantages and many disadvantages
in lectures compared with reading. Dr. Duncan's
lectures on Materia Medica at 8 o'clock on a
winter's morning are something fearful to 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 I
was not urged to practise dissection, for I should soon
have got over my disgust ; and the practice would
have been invaluable for all my future work. This
has been an irremediable evil, as well as my inca-
pacity to draw. I 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 I was not so foolish as to
allow this to lessen my attendance. I cannot under-
stand why this part of my medical course did not

EDINBURGH. 37

interest me in a greater degree ; for during the
summer before coming to Edinburgh I began attend-
ing some of the poor people, chiefly children and
women in Shrewsbury : I wrote down as full an
account as I could of the case with all the symptoms,
and read them aloud to my father, who suggested
further inquiries and advised me what medicines to
give, which I made up myself. At one time I had at
least a dozen patients, and I felt a keen interest in the
work. My father, who was by far the best judge of
character whom I ever knew, declared that I should
make a successful physician, — meaning by this one
who would get many patients. He maintained that
the chief element of success was exciting confidence ;
but what he saw in me which convinced him that I
should create confidence I know not. I also attended
on two occasions the operating theatre in the hospital
at Edinburgh, and saw two very bad operations, one
on a child, but I rushed away before they were com-
pleted. Nor did I ever attend again, for hardly any
inducement would have been strong enough to make
me do so ; this being long before the blessed days of
chloroform. The two cases fairly haunted me for
many a long year.

My brother stayed only one year at the Univer-
sity, so that 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
Assyria ; he was a Wernerian geologist, and knew a

3» AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

little about many subjects. Dr. Coldstream was a
very different young man, prim, formal, highly re-
ligious, and most kind-hearted ; he afterwards pub-
lished 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 I became
acquainted with him I cannot remember ; he published
some first-rate 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. I knew him well ; he was dry
and formal in manner, with much enthusiasm beneath
this outer crust. He one day, when we were walking
together, burst forth in high admiration of Lamarck
and his views on evolution. I listened in silent as-
tonishment, and as far as I can judge without any
effect on my mind. I had previously read the ' Zoo-
nomia ' of my grandfather, in which similar views are
maintained, but without producing any effect on 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 I
admired greatly the ' Zoonomia ; ' but on reading it a
second time after an interval 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 I often accompanied the former
to collect animals in the tidal pools, which I dissected

EDINBURGH. 39

as well as I could. I also became friends with some
of the Newhaven fishermen, and sometimes accom-
panied them when they trawled 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. Nevertheless I made one interesting little dis-
covery, 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 F lustra had the
power of independent movement by means of cilia,
and were in fact larvae. In another short paper I
showed that the little globular bodies which had been
supposed to be the young state of Fucus loreits were
the egg-cases of the worm-like Pontobdella miiricata.

The Plinian Society was encouraged and, I believe,
founded by Professor Jameson : it consisted of stu-
dents and met in an underground room in the Uni-
versity for the sake of reading papers on natural
science and discussing them. I used regularly to
attend, and the meetings had a good effect on me in
stimulating my zeal and giving me new congenial
acquaintances. 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, I have forgotten what I was
going to say." The poor fellow looked quite over-
whelmed, and all the members were so surprised 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 I had not the satis-

40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

faction of seeing my paper in print ; but I believe
Dr. Grant noticed my small discovery in his excellent
memoir on Flustra.

I was also a member of the Royal Medical Society,
and attended pretty regularly; but as the subjects were
exclusively medical, I 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
J. Kay-Shuttleworth. Dr. Grant took me occasion-
ally to the meetings of the Wernerian Society, where
various papers on natural history were read, discussed,
and afterwards published in the ' Transactions.' I
heard Audubon deliver there some interesting dis-
courses on the habits of N. American birds, sneering
somewhat unjustly at Waterton. By the way, a
negro lived in Edinburgh, who had travelled with
Waterton, and gained his livelihood by stuffing birds,
which he did excellently : he gave me lessons 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 I saw Sir
Walter Scott in the chair as President, and he apolo-
gised to the meeting as 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 I had been told at that time that I should

EDINBURGH. 41

one day have been thus honoured, I declare that I
should have thought it as ridiculous and improbable,
as if I 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 determination 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
previously 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 I first read of the
action of icebergs in transporting boulders, and I
gloried in the progress of Geology. Equally striking
is the fact that I, though now only sixty-seven
years old, heard the Professor, in a field lecture at
Salisbury Craigs, discoursing on a trap-dyke, with
amygdaloidal margins and the strata indurated on
each side, with volcanic rocks all around us, say
that it was a fissure filled with sediment from above,
adding with a sneer that there were men who main-

42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

tained that it had been injected from beneath in ai
molten condition. When I think of this lecture, I do-
not wonder that I determined never to attend to-
Geology.

From attending 's lectures, I became acquainted

with the curator of the museum, Mr. Macgillivray,
who afterwards published a large and excellent book.
on the birds of Scotland. I had much interesting
natural-history talk with him, and he was very kind to-
me. He gave me some rare shells, for I at that time
collected marine mollusca, but with no great zeal.

My summer vacations during these two years were-
wholly given up to amusements, though I always had.
some book in hand, which I read with interest.
During the summer of 1826 I took a long walking
tour with two friends with knapsacks on our backs,
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
Maer. My zeal was so great that I used to place my
shooting-boots open by my bed-side when I went to-
bed, so as not to lose half a minute in putting them on.
in the morning ; and on one occasion I reached SL
distant part of the Maer estate, on the 2Oth of August
for black-game shooting, before I could see : I then,
toiled on with the gamekeeper the whole day through
thick heath and young Scotch firs.

* Josiah Wedgwood, the son of the founder of the Etruria Works.

SHOOTING. 43>

I kept an exact record of every bird which I shot
throughout the whole season. One day when shoot-
ing at Woodhouse with Captain Owen, the eldest son,
and Major Hill, his cousin, afterwards Lord Berwick,
both of whom I liked very much, I thought myself
shamefully used, for every time after I had fired and
thought that I had killed a bird, one of the two acted
as if loading his gun, and cried out, " You must not.
count that bird, for I fired at the same time," and the
gamekeeper, perceiving the joke, backed them up.
After some hours they told me the joke, but it was no>
joke to me, for I had shot a large number of birds,
but did not know how many, and could not add them.
to my list, which I used to do by making a knot in a.
piece of 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 zeal, for I
tried to persuade myself that shooting was almost an.
intellectual employment ; 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 182,7 was
memorable 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 I was as ignorant as a.
pig about his subjects of history, politics, and moral

44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

philosophy. To hear of praise from an eminent
person, though no doubt apt or certain to excite
vanity, is, I 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 suc-
ceeding 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. In the
summer the whole family used often to sit on the
steps of the old portico, with the flower-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. I 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 with me. He was the very type of an upright
man, with the clearest judgment. I do not believe
that any power on earth could have made him swerve
an inch from what he considered the right course. I
used to apply to him in my mind the well-known ode
of Horace, now forgotten by me, in which the words
" nee vultus tyranni, &c.," * come in.

Cambridge 1828-1831. — After having spent two

* Justum et tenacem propositi virum
Non civium ardor prava jubentium.
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mcnte quatit solida.

CAMBRIDGE. 45

sessions in Edinburgh, my father perceived, or he
heard from my sisters, that I did not like the thought
of being a physician, so he proposed that I should
become a clergyman. He was very properly vehe-
ment against my turning into an idle sporting man,
which then seemed my probable destination. I asked
for some time to consider, as from what little I had
heard or thought on the subject I had scruples about
declaring my belief 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 least doubt
the strict and literal truth of every word in the Bible,
I soon persuaded myself that our Creed must be fully
accepted.

Considering how fiercely I have been attacked by
the orthodox, it seems ludicrous that I once intended
to be a clergyman. Nor was this intention and my
father's wish ever formally given up, but died a natu-
ral death when, on leaving Cambridge, I joined the
Beagle as naturalist. If the phrenologists are to be
trusted, I was well fitted in one respect to be a clergy-
man. A few years ago the secretaries of a German
psychological society asked me earnestly by letter for
a photograph of myself ; and some time afterwards I
received the proceedings of one of the meetings, in
which it seemed that the shape of my head had been,
the subject of a public discussion, and one of the
speakers declared that I had the bump of reverence
developed enough for ten priests.

46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

As it was decided that I should be a clergyman, it
•was necessary that I should go to one of the English
universities and take a degree ; but as I had never
opened a classical book since leaving school, I found
to my dismay, that in the two intervening years I had
actually forgotten, incredible as it may appear, almost
everything which I had learnt, even to some few of
the Greek letters. I did not therefore proceed to
Cambridge at the usual time in October, but worked
with a private tutor in Shrewsbury, and went to
Cambridge after the Christmas vacation, early in
1828. I soon recovered my school standard of know-
ledge, and could translate easy Greek books, such
as Homer and the Greek Testament, with moderate
facility.

During the three years which I spent at Cambridge
rmy time was wasted, as far as the academical studies
were concerned, as completely as at Edinburgh and
at school. I attempted mathematics, and even
-went during the summer of 1828 with a private
tutor to Barmouth, but I got on very slowly. The
work was repugnant to me, chiefly from my not
being able to see any meaning in the early steps in
algebra. This impatience was very foolish, and in
after years I have deeply regretted that I did not
proceed far enough at least to understand something
of the great leading 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

CAMBRIDGE. 47

lectures, and the attendance was almost nominal. In
sny second year I had to work for a month or two to
ipass the Little-Go, which I did easily. Again, in my
'last year I worked with some earnestness for my final
degree of B.A., 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
vthe B.A. examination, it was also necessary to get up
Paley's ' Evidences of Christianity,' and his ' Moral
Philosophy.' This was done in a thorough manner,
;and I am convinced that I could have written out the
rvvhole of the ' Evidences ' with perfect correctness, but
•not of course in the clear language of Paley. The
ilogic of this book and, as I may add, of his ' Natural
'Theology,' gave me as much delight as did Euclid.
The careful study of these works, without attempting
to learn any part by rote, was the only part of the
academical course which, as I then felt and as I still
believe, was of the least use to me in the education of
:my mind. I did not at that time trouble myself about
Paley's premises ; and taking these on trust, I was
charmed and convinced by the long line of argumen-
tation. By answering well the examination questions
in Paley, by doing Euclid well, and by not failing
miserably in Classics, I gained a good place among
the 01 TroXXot or crowd of men who do not go {n for

honours. Oddly enough, I cannot remember how
high I stood, and my memory fluctuates between the
fifth, tenth, or twelfth, name on the list.*

Public lectures on several branches were given in

* Tenth in the list of January 1831.

48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

the University, attendance being quite voluntary ; but
I was so sickened with lectures at Edinburgh that I
did not even attend Sedgwick's eloquent and interest-
ing lectures. Had I done so I should probably have
become a geologist earlier than I did. I attended,
however, Henslow's lectures on Botany, and liked
them much for their extreme clearness, and the admi-
rable illustrations ; but I did not study botany. Hen-
slow used to take his pupils, including several of the
older members of the University, field excursions, on
foot or in coaches, to distant places, or in a barge
down the river, and lectured on the rarer plants and
animals which were observed. These excursions were
delightful.

Although, as we shall presently see, there were
some redeeming features in my life at Cambridge, my
time was sadly wasted there, and worse than wasted.
From my passion for shooting and for hunting, and,
when this failed, for riding across country, I got into
a sporting set, including some dissipated 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. I
know that I ought to feel ashamed of days and even-
ings 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 I am glad to think that I had many other
friends of a widely different nature. I was very in-

CAMBRIDGE. 49

timate with Whitley,* who was afterwards Senior
Wrangler, and we used continually to take long walks
together. He inoculated me with a taste for pictures
and good engravings, of which I bought some. I fre-
quently 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.
I 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.

I also got into a musical set, I believe by means of
my warm-hearted friend, Herbert, f who took a high
wrangler's degree. From associating with these men,
and hearing them play, I 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, so 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 I sometimes hired the chorister boys to sing in
my rooms. Nevertheless I am so utterly destitute of
an ear, that I cannot perceive a discord, or keep time
and hum a tune correctly ; and it is a mystery how I
could possibly have derived pleasure from music.

* Rev. C. Whitley, Hon. Canon f The late John Maurice Herbert,

of Durham, formerly Reader in County Court Judge of Cardiff and

Natural Philosophy in Durham the Monmouth Circuit.

University.

VOL. I. F

50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

My musical friends soon perceived my state, and
sometimes amused themselves by making me pass an
examination, which consisted in ascertaining how-
many tunes I could recognise, when they were played
rather more quickly or slowly than usual. ' God save
the King,' when thus played, was a sore puzzle.
There was another man with almost as bad an ear as
I had, and strange to say he played a little on the
flute. Once I had the triumph of beating him in one
of our musical examinations.

But no pursuit at Cambridge was followed with
nearly so much eagerness or gave me so much pleasure
as collecting beetles. It was the mere passion for
collecting, for I did not dissect them, and rarely com-
pared their external characters with published descrip-
tions, but got them named anyhow. I will give a
proof of my zeal : one day, on tearing off some old
bark, I saw two rare beetles, and seized one in each
hand ; then I saw a third and new kind, which I
could not bear to lose, so that I popped the one which
I held in my right hand into my mouth. Alas ! it
ejected some intensely acrid fluid, which burnt my
tongue so that I was forced to spit the beetle out,,
which was lost, as was the third one.

I was very successful in collecting, and invented
two new methods ; I employed a labourer to scrape
during the winter, moss off old trees and place it in,
a large bag, and likewise to collect the rubbish at the
bottom of the barges in which reeds are brought from
the fens, and thus I got some very rare species. No-
poet ever felt more delighted at seeing his first poem

CAMBRIDGE. 5*

published than I did at seeing, in Stephens' ' Illustra-
tions of British Insects,' the magic words, " captured
by C. Darwin, Esq." I was introduced to entomology
by my second cousin, W. Darwin Fox, a clever and
most pleasant man, who was then at Christ's College,
and with whom I became extremely intimate. After-
wards I became well acquainted, and went out collect-
ing, with Albert Way of Trinity, who in after years
became a well-known archreologist ; also with H.
Thompson of the same College, afterwards a leading
agriculturist, chairman of a great railway, and Member
of Parliament. It seems therefore that a taste for
collecting beetles is some indication of future success
in life !

I am surprised what an indelible impression many
of the beetles which I caught at Cambridge have left
on my mind. I can remember the exact appear-
ance of certain posts, old trees and banks where I
made a good capture. The pretty Panag&HS crux-
major was 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
P. crux-major, and it turned out to be P. quadripunc-
tatus, which is only a variety or closely allied species,
differing from it very slightly in outline. I had never
seen in those old days Licinus alive, which to an
uneducated eye hardly differs from many of the black
Carabidous beetles ; but my sons found here a speci-
men, and I instantly recognised that it was new to
me ; yet I had not looked at a British beetle for the
last twenty years.

E 2

52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

I have not as yet mentioned a circumstance which
influenced my whole career more than any other.
This was my friendship with Professor Henslow.
Before coming up to Cambridge, I had heard of him
from my brother as a man who knew every branch of
science, and I was accordingly prepared to reverence
him. He kept open house once every week when all
undergraduates and some older members of the Uni-
versity, who were attached to science, used to meet in
the evening. I soon got, through Fox, an invitation,
and went there regularly. Before long I became well
acquainted with Henslow, and during the latter half
of my time at Cambridge took long walks with him on
most days ; so that I was called by some of the dons
" the man who walks with Henslow ; " 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 taste was to draw conclusions from long-
continued minute observations. His judgment was
excellent, and his whole mind well balanced ; but I do
not suppose that any one would say that he possessed
much original genius.

He was deeply religious, and so orthodox, that
he told me one day he should be grieved if a single
word of the Thirty-nine Articles were altered. His
moral qualities were in every way admirable. He
was free from every tinge of vanity or other petty
feeling ; and I never saw a man who thought so little
about himself or his own concerns. His temper was
imperturbably good, with the most winning and

CAMBRIDGE. 53

courteous manners ; yet, as I have seen, he could be
roused by any bad action to the warmest indignation
and prompt action.

I once saw in his company in the streets of Cam-
bridge almost as horrid a scene as could have been
witnessed during the French Revolution. Two body-
snatchers had been arrested, and whilst being taken to
prison had been torn from the constable by a crowd
of the roughest men, who dragged them by their legs
along the muddy and stony road. They were covered
from head to foot with mud, and their faces were
bleeding either from having been kicked or from the
stones ; they looked like corpses, but the crowd was
so dense that I got only a few momentary glimpses of
the wretched creatures. Never in my life have I seen
such wrath painted on a man's face as was shown by
Henslow at this horrid scene. He tried repeatedly to
penetrate the mob ; but it was simply impossible. He
then rushed away to the mayor, telling me not to
follow him, but to get more policemen. I forget the
issue, except that the two men were got into the
prison without being killed.

Henslow's benevolence was unbounded, as he
proved by his many excellent schemes for his poor
parishioners, when in after years he held the living of
Hitcham. My intimacy with such a man ought to
have been, and I hope was, an inestimable benefit. I
cannot resist mentioning a trifling incident, which
showed his kind consideration. Whilst examining
some pollen-grains on a damp surface, I saw the tubes
exserted, and instantly rushed off to communicate my

54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 communicate my discoveries.

Dr. Whewell was one of the older and distinguished

men who sometimes visited Henslow, and on several
occasions I 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, t often stayed with Henslow, who was his
brother-in-law. I visited him at his parsonage on
the borders of the Fens [Swaffham Bulbeck], and
had many a good walk and talk with him about
Natural History. I became also acquainted with
several other men older than me, who did not care
much about science, but were friends of Henslow.
One was a Scotchman, brother of Sir Alexander
Ramsay, and tutor of Jesus College ; he was a de-
lightful man, but did not live for many years. J Another
was Mr. Dawes, afterwards Dean of Hereford, anc
famous for his success in the education of the poor

* The well-known Soame Jenyns of the Beagle ; and is author of a

was cousin to Mr. Jenyns' father. long series of papers, chiefly Zoo-

t Mr. Jenyns (now Blomefield) logical,

described the fish for the Zoology J See Vol. i. p. 192.

CAMBRIDGE. 55

These men and others of the same standing, together
with Henslow, used sometimes to take distant excur-
sions into the country, which I was allowed to join,
and they were most agreeable.

Lookin^ back, I infer that there must have been

something 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 allowed me to associate
with them. Certainly I was not aware of any such
superiority, and I remember one of my sporting
friends, Turner, who saw me at work with my
beetles, saying that I should some day be a Fellow
of the Royal Society, and the notion seemed to me
preposterous.

During my last year at Cambridge, I read with care
and profound interest Humboldt's ' Personal Narra-
tive.' This work, and Sir J. Herschel's ' Introduction
to the Study of Natural Philosophy,' stirred up in me
a burning zeal to add even the most humble contribu-
tion to the noble structure of Natural Science. No one
or a dozen other books influenced me nearly so much
as these two. I copied out from Humboldt long pas-
sages about Teneriffe, and read them aloud on one of
the above-mentioned excursions, to (I think) Henslow,
Ramsay, and Dawes, for on a previous occasion I had
talked about the glories of Teneriffe, and some of the
party declared they would endeavour to go there ; but
I think that they were only half in earnest. I was,
however, quite in earnest, and got an introduction to a
merchant in London to enquire about ships ; but the

56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

scheme was, of course, knocked on the head by the
voyage of the Beagle.

My summer vacations were given up to collecting
beetles, to some reading, and short tours. In the
autumn my whole time was devoted to shooting,
chiefly at Woodhouse and Maer, and sometimes with
young Eyton of Eyton. Upon the whole the three
years which I spent at Cambridge were the most
joyful in my happy life ; for I was then in excellent
health, and almost always in high spirits.

As I had at first come up to Cambridge at Christmas,
I was forced to keep two terms after passing my final
examination, at the commencement of 1831 ; and
Henslow then persuaded me to begin the study of
geology. Therefore on my return to Shropshire I
examined sections, and coloured a map of parts round
Shrewsbury. Professor Sedgwick intended to visit
North Wales in the beginning of August to pursue his
famous geological investigations amongst the older
rocks, and Henslow asked him to allow me to accom-
pany him.* Accordingly he came and slept at my
father's house.

A short conversation with him during this evening
produced a strong impression on my mind. Whilst
examining an old gravel-pit near Shrewsbury, a

* In connection with this tour waiter) had not given the chamber-

my father used to tell a story about maid the sixpence intrusted to him

Sedgwick : they had started from for the purpose. He was ultimately

their inn one morning, and had persuaded to give up the project,

walked a mile or two, when Sedg- seeing that there was no reason for

wick suddenly stopped, and vowed suspecting the waiter of especial

that he would return, being certain perfidy. — F. D.
"that damned scoundrel" (the

GEOLOGY. 57

labourer told me that he had found in it a large worn
tropical Volute shell, such as 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 embedded there it would be the
greatest misfortune to geology, as it would overthrow
all that we know about the superficial deposits of
the Midland Counties. These gravel-beds belong 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 as a 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 con-
sists in grouping facts so that general laws or conclu-
sions 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 a little how to make out the
geology of a country. Sedgwick often sent me on
a line parallel to his, telling me to bring back speci-
mens of the rocks and to mark the stratification on a
map. I have little doubt that he did this for my
good, as I was too ignorant to have aided him. On
this tour I had a striking instance how easy it is to
overlook phenomena, however conspicuous, before
they have been observed by any one. We spent

58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

many hours in Cwm Idwal, examining 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 lateral and terminal moraines. Yet these phe-
nomena are so conspicuous that, as I declared in a
paper published many years afterwards in the ' Philo-
sophical Magazine,' * a house burnt down by fire did
not tell its story more plainly than did this valley. If
it had still been filled by a glacier, the phenomena
-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 moun-
tains to Barmouth, never following any track unless it
coincided with my course. I thus came on some
strange wild places, and enjoyed much this manner of
travelling. I visited Barmouth to see some Cam-
bridge friends who were reading there, and thence
returned to Shrewsbury and to Maer for shooting ;
for at that time I 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, 1836.

On returning home from my short geological tour
in North Wales, I found a letter from Henslow, in-
forming me that Captain Fitz-Roy was willing to give

* ' Philosophical Magazine,' 1842.

THE VOYAGE. 59

•up part of his own cabin to any young man who would
•volunteer to go with him without pay as naturalist to
the Voyage of the Beagle. I have given, as I believe,
in my MS. Journal an account of all the circumstances
which then occurred ; I will here only say that I was
instantly eager to accept the offer, but my father
;strongly objected, adding the words, fortunate for me,
"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 be ready for Sep-
tember ist, 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 [my uncle] was one of the most
^sensible men in the world, and he at once consented
in the kindest manner. I had been rather extrava-
gant at Cambridge, and to console my father, said,
•" that I should be deuced clever to spend more than
my allowance whilst on board the Beagle ; " but he
.answered with a smile, " But Lthey 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 inti-
mate with Fitz-Roy, I heard that I had run a very
narrow risk of being rejected, on account of the shape
of my nose ! He was an ardent disciple of Lavater,
.and was convinced that he could judge of a man's

* Josiah Wedgwood.

60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

character by the outline of his features ; and he
doubted whether any one with my nose could possess
sufficient energy and determination for the voyage.
But I think he was afterwards well satisfied that my
nose had spoken falsely.

Fitz-Roy's character was a singular one, with very
many noble features : he was devoted to his duty,
generous to a fault, bold, determined, and indomi-
tably energetic, and an ardent friend to all under his
sway. He would undertake any sort of trouble to
assist those whom he thought deserved assistance.
He was a handsome man, strikingly like a gentleman,
with highly courteous manners, which resembled those
of his maternal uncle, the famous Lord Castlereagh,
as I was told by the Minister at Rio. Nevertheless
he must have inherited much in his appearance from
Charles II., for Dr. Wallich gave me a collection of
photographs which he had made, and I was struck
with the resemblance of one to Fitz-Roy ; and on
looking at the name, I found it Ch. E. Sobieski
Stuart, Count d'Albanie, a descendant of the same
monarch.

Fitz-Roy's temper was a most unfortunate one. It
was usually worst in the early morning, and with his
eagle eye he could generally detect something amiss
about the ship, and was then unsparing in his blame.
He was very kind to me, but was a man very difficult
to live with on the intimate terms which necessarily
followed from our messing by ourselves in the same
cabin. We had several quarrels ; for instance, early in
the voyage at Bahia, in Brazil, he defended and praised

THE VOYAGE. 6 1

slavery, which I abominated, and told me that he had
just visited a great slave-owner, who had called up
many of his slaves and asked them whether they were
happy, and whether they wished to be free, and all
answered " No." I then asked him, perhaps with a
sneer, whether he thought that the answer of slaves
in the presence of their master was worth anything ?
This made him excessively angry, and he said that as
I doubted his word we could not live any longer
together. I thought that I should have been com-
pelled to leave the ship ; but as soon as the news
spread, which it did quickly, as the captain sent for
the first lieutenant to assuage his anger by abusing
me, I was deeply gratified by receiving an invitation
from all the gun-room officers to mess with them.
But after a few hours Fitz-Roy showed his usual
magnanimity by sending an officer to me with an
apology and a request that I would continue to live
with him.

His character was in several respects one of the
most noble which I have ever known.

The voyage of the Beagle has been by far the
most important event in my life, and has determined
my whole career ; yet it depended on so small a
circumstance as my uncle offering to drive me thirty
miles to Shrewsbury, which few uncles would have
done, and on such a trifle as the shape of my nose.
I have always felt that I owe to the voyage the
first real training or education of my mind; I
was led to attend closely to several branches of
natural history, and thus my powers of observation

62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 stratification and nature
of the rocks and fossils at many points, always reason-
ing and predicting what will be found elsewhere, light
soon begins to dawn on the district, and the structure
of the whole becomes more or less intelligible. I 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 wonderful superiority of Lyell's manner
of treating geology, compared with that of any other
author, whose works I had with me or ever afterwards
read.

Another of my occupations was collecting animals
of all classes, briefly describing and roughly dissecting
many of the marine ones ; but from not being able to
draw, and from not having sufficient anatomical know-
ledge, a great pile of MS. which I made during the
voyage has proved almost useless. I thus lost much
time, with the exception of that spent in acquiring
some knowledge of the Crustaceans, as this was of
service when in after years I undertook a monograph
of the Cirripedia.

During some part of the day I wrote my Journal

THE VOYAGE. 6j

and took much pains in describing carefully and
vividly all that I had seen ; and this was good prac-
tice. My Journal served also, in part, as letters to
my home, and portions were sent to England when-
ever 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 I thought or read was made to bear
directly on what I had seen or was likely to see ; and
this habit of mind was continued during the five years
of the voyage. I feel sure that it was this training
which has enabled me to do whatever I have done in-
science.

Looking backwards, I can now perceive how my
love for science gradually preponderated over every
other taste. During the first two years my old
passion for shooting survived in nearly full force, and
I shot myself all the birds and animals for my collec-
tion ; but gradually I gave up my gun more and more,
and finally altogether, to my servant, as shooting
interfered with my work, more especially with making
out the geological structure of a country. I discovered,
though unconsciously and insensibly, that the pleasure
of observing and reasoning was a much higher one
than that of skill and sport. That my mind became
developed through my pursuits during the voyage is
rendered probable by a remark made by my father,
who was the most acute observer whom I ever saw,
of a sceptical disposition, and far from being a believe

64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

in phrenology ; for on first seeing me after the voyage,
he turned round to my sisters, and exclaimed, " Why,
the shape of his head is quite altered."

To return to the voyage. On September 1 1 th
(1831), I paid a flying visit with Fitz-Roy to the
Beagle at Plymouth. Thence to Shrewsbury to wish
my father and sisters a long farewell. On October
24th I took up my residence at Plymouth, and re-
mained there until December 27th, when the Beagle
finally left the shores of England for her circumnavi-
gation of the world. We made two earlier attempts
to sail, but were driven back each time by heavy
gales. These two months at Plymouth were the
most miserable which I ever spent, though I exerted
myself in various ways. I was out of spirits at the
thought of leaving all my family and friends for so
long a time, and the weather seemed to me inexpres-
sibly gloomy. I was also troubled with palpitation
and pain about the heart, and like many a young
ignorant man, especially one with a smattering of
medical knowledge, was convinced that I had heart
disease. I did not consult any doctor, as I fully ex-
pected to hear the verdict that I was not fit for the
voyage, and I was resolved to go at all hazards.

I need not here refer to the events of the voyage-
where we went and what we did — as I have given a
sufficiently full account in my published Journal. The
glories of the vegetation of the Tropics rise before my
mind at the present time more vividly than anything
else ; though the sense of sublimity, which the great
deserts of Patagonia and the forest-clad mountains of

THE VOYAGE. 65

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 dis-
comfort and some degree of danger were at that time
hardly a drawback, and none at all afterwards. I
also reflect with high satisfaction on some of my scien-
tific work, such as solving the problem of coral islands,
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 archipelago, and of all of them to the
inhabitants of South America.

As far as I can judge of myself, I worked to the
utmost during the voyage from the mere pleasure of
investigation, and from my strong desire to add a few
facts to the great mass of facts in Natural Science.
But I was also ambitious to take a fair place among
scientific men, — whether more ambitious or less so
than most of my fellow-workers, I can form no
opinion.

The geology of St. Jago is very striking, yet simple :
a stream of lava formerly flowed over the bed of the
sea, formed of triturated recent shells and corals,
which it has baked into a hard white rock. Since
then the whole island has been upheaved. But the
line of white rock revealed to me a new and important
fact, namely, that there had been afterwards subsi-

VOL. i. F

66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

dence round the craters, which had since been in
action, and had poured forth lava. It then first
dawned on me that I might perhaps write a book on
the geology of the various countries visited, and this
made me thrill with delight. That was a memorable
hour to me, and how distinctly I can call to mind the
low cliff of lava 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 feet.
Later in the voyage, Fitz-Roy asked me to read some
of my Journal, and declared it would be worth publish-
ing ; so here was a second book in prospect !

Towards the close of our voyage I 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.
I could not at the time understand how he could have
learnt anything of my proceedings, but I heard (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 been sent to Henslow, also excited con-
siderable attention amongst palaeontologists. After
reading this letter, I clambered over the mountains of
Ascension with a bounding step, and made the volcanic
rocks resound under my geological hammer. All this
shows how ambitious I was ; but I think that I can

* Read at the meeting held tion among the members of the
November 16, 1835, and printed in Society,
a pamphlet of 31 pp. for distribu-

LONDON. 67

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. I do not mean
to say that a favourable review or a large sale of my
books did not please me greatly, but the pleasure was
a fleeting one, and I am sure that I have never turned
one inch out of my course to gain fame.

From my return to England (October 2, 1836) to my
marriage (January 29, 1839).

These two years and three months were, the most
active ones which I ever spent, though I was occasion-
ally unwell, and so lost some time. After going back-
wards and forwards several times between Shrewsbury,
Maer, Cambridge, and London, I settled in lodgings at
Cambridge* on December i3th, where all my collec-
tions were under the care of Henslow. I stayed here
three months, and got my minerals and rocks examined
by the aid of Professor Miller.

I began preparing my ' Journal of Travels,' which
was not hard work, as my MS. Journal had been
written with care, and my chief labour was making an
abstract of my more interesting 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. \

On March yth, 1837, I took lodgings in Great Marl-
borough Street in London, and remained there for

* In Fitzwilliam Street.

f ' Geolog. Soc. Proc.'ii. 1838, pp, 446-449.

F 2

68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

nearly two years, until I was 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 Voyage 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 I also went a little into
society, and acted as one of the honorary secretaries
of the Geological Society. I saw a great deal of Lyell.
One of his chief characteristics was his sympathy
with the work of others, and I was as much aston-
ished as delighted at the interest which he showed
when, on my return to England, I explained to him
my views on coral reefs. This encouraged me greatly,
and his advice and example had much influence on me.
During 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 observations and acute
remarks, but they almost always related to minute
points, and he never with me discussed large or
general questions in science.

During these two years I took several short excur-
sions as a relaxation, and one longer one to the
Parallel Roads of Glen Roy, an account of which was
published in the ' Philosophical Transactions.'* This
paper was a great failure, and I am ashamed of it.
* 1839, pp. 39-82.

LONDON. 69

Having been deeply impressed with what I had seen
of the elevation of the land in South America, I attri-
buted 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, I
argued in favour of sea-action ; and my error has been
a good lesson to me never to trust in science to the
principle of exclusion.

As I was not able to work all day at science, I read
a good deal during these two years on various subjects,
including some metaphysical books ; but I was not
well fitted for such studies. About this time I took
much delight in Wordsworth's and Coleridge's poetry ;
and can boast that I read the ' Excursion ' twice
through. Formerly Milton's 'Paradise Lost' had
been my chief favourite, and in my excursions during
the voyage of the Beagle, when I could take only a
single volume, I always chose Milton.

From my marriage, January 29, 1839, and residence
in Upper Cower Street, to our leaving London and
settling at Down, September 14, 1842.

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, I did less scientific work, though
I worked as 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

70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 is,
I 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 careful examination of living
reefs. But it should be observed that I had during
the two previous years been incessantly attending 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 by 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-reefs, 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. J I also continued to superin-

* 'Geolog. Soc. Proc.' iii. 1842. f ' Geolog. Trans.' v. 1840.

J ' Geolog. Soc. Proc.' ii. 1838.

LONDON. 71

tend the publication of the ' Zoology of the Voyage of
the Beagle' Nor did I ever intermit collecting facts
bearing on the origin of species ; and I could some-
times 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, for the sake of observing the effects of
the old glaciers which formerly filled all the larger
valleys. I published a short account of what I saw in
the ' Philosophical Magazine.' * This excursion inte-
rested me greatly, and it was the last time I was 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 enough to go into general society, and saw
a good deal of several scientific men, and other more

O '

or less distinguished men. I will give my impressions
with respect to some of them, though I have little to
say worth saying.

I saw more of Lyell than of any other man, both
before and after my marriage. His mind was charac-
terised, as it appeared to me, by clearness, caution,
sound judgment, and a 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 I had done before.
He would advance all possible objections to my
suggestion, and even after these were exhausted
would long remain dubious. A second characteristic

* ' Philosophical Magazine,' 1842.

72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

was his hearty sympathy with the work of other
scientific men.*

On my return from the voyage of the Beagle,
I explained to him my views on coral-reefs, which
differed from his, and I 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 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
Lyell — more so, as I believe, than to any other man
whoever lived. When [I was] starting on the voyage
of the Beagle, the sagacious Henslow, who, like all other
geologists, believed at that time in successive cata-
clysms, advised me to get and study the first volume
of the ' Principles,' which had then just been published,

* The slight repetition here ob- April, 1881, a few years after the
scrvable is accounted for by the notes rest of the 'Recollections' were
on Lyell, &c., having been added in written.

LONDON. 73

but on no account to accept the views therein advo-
cated. How differently would any one now speak of
the ' Principles ' ! I am 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 for-
merly be plainly seen in the different progress of the
science in France and England. The present total
oblivion of Elie de Beaumont's wild hypotheses, such
as his ' Craters of Elevation ' and ' Lines of Elevation '
(which latter hypothesis I heard Sedgwick at the
Geological Society lauding to the skies), may be
largely attributed to Lyell.

I saw a good deal of Robert Brown, "facile Princeps
Botanicorum," as he was called by Humboldt. He
seemed to me to be chiefly remarkable for the minute-
ness of his observations, and their perfect accuracy.
His knov/ledge 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 Beagle,
and on one occasion he asked me to look through a
microscope and describe what I saw. This I did,
and believe now that it was the marvellous currents
of protoplasm in some vegetable cell. I then asked
him what I had seen ; but he answered me, " That is
my little secret."

74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

He 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 is enough
to make up for any degree of scientific penuriousness
or jealousy.

I may here mention a few other eminent men,
whom I have occasionally seen, but I 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. I saw him, also,
on a few other occasions. He never talked much, but
every word which he uttered was worth listening to.

I once met at breakfast at Sir R. Murchison's house
the illustrious Humboldt, who honoured me by ex-
pressing a wish to see me. I was a little disappointed
with the great man, but my 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

Hensleigh 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 any-
thing, for his memory was wonderful. I asked him
how at first he could judge what facts would be

LONDON. 75

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 enabled to give the
astonishing number of references on all sorts of sub-
jects, which may be found in his ' History of Civilisa-
tion.' This book I thought most interesting, and
read it twice, but I doubt whether his generalisations
are worth anything. Buckle was a great talker, and
I listened to him saying 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
I must listen to her ; after I had moved away he
turned round 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, I once met Sydney
Smith at Dean Milman's house. There was some-
thing inexplicably amusing in every word which he
uttered. Perhaps this was partly due to the expecta-
tion of being amused. He was talking 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 borrowed a guinea,
from a friend to put in the plate. He now said " It is
generally believed that my dear old friend Lady Cork
has been overlooked," and he said this in such a.
manner that no one could for a moment doubt that he
meant that his dear old friend had been overlooked
by the devil. How he managed to express this I
know not.

I likewise once met Macaulay at Lord Stanhope's

76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

(the historian's) house, and as there was only one
other man at dinner, I had a grand opportunity of
hearing him converse, and he was very agreeable.
He did not talk at all too much ; nor indeed could
such a man talk too much, as long as he allowed
others to turn the stream of his conversation, and this
he did allow.

Lord Stanhope once gave me a curious little proof
of the accuracy and fulness of Macaulay's memory :
many historians 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 amongst them were Motley and
Grote. After luncheon I 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 ago I dined occasionally with the old Earl,
the father of the historian ; he was a strange man,
but what little I 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 utterly in-
credible. He said one day to me, " Why don't you

LONDON. 77

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 amused.

The last man whom I 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 brother'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 Crete's ' History' "a fetid quagmire,
with nothing spiritual about it." I always thought,
until his ' Reminiscences ' appeared, that his sneers
were partly jokes, but this now seems rather doubtful.
His expression was that of a depressed, almost despon-
dent yet benevolent, man ; and it is notorious how
heartily he laughed. I believe that his benevolence
was real, though stained by not a little jealousy. No
one can doubt about his extraordinary power of draw-
ing 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.

He has been all-powerful in impressing some grand

78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 care 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 research.

Whilst living in London, I attended as regularly as
I could the meetings of several scientific societies, and
acted as secretary to the Geological Society. But such
attendance, and ordinary society, suited my health
so badly that we resolved to live in the country, which
both preferred and have never repented of.

Residence at Down from September 14, 1842, to the
present time, 1876.

After several fruitless searches in Surrey and
elsewhere, we found this house and purchased it.
I was pleased with the diversified appearance of
the vegetation proper to a chalk district, and so
unlike what I had been accustomed to in the Mid-
land counties ; and still more pleased with the ex-
treme quietness and rusticity of the place. It is

PUBLICATIONS. 79

^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 a mule-track ! Our fixing
-ourselves here has answered admirably in one way,
which we did not anticipate, namely, by being very
•convenient for frequent visits from our children.

Few persons can have lived a more retired life than
we 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 society, 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 dinner-parties ;
.and this has been somewhat of a deprivation to me,
.as such parties always put me into high spirits. From
the same cause I have been able to invite here very
few scientific acquaintances.

My chief enjoyment and sole employment through-
out 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 have 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 giving.

My several Publications. — In the early part of 1844,
my observations on the volcanic islands visited during
the voyage of the Beagle were published. In 1845, I
took much pains in correcting a new edition of my
* Journal of Researches/ which was originally published

8o AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

in 1 839 as 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 German,
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 my 'Geological Obser-
vations on South America ' were published. I record
in a little diary, which I have always kept, that my
three geological books (' Coral Reefs ' included) con-
sumed four and a half years' steady work ; " and now
it is ten years since my return to England. How
much time have I lost by illness ? " I have nothing
to say about these three books except that to my
surprise new editions have lately been called for.*

In October, 1846, I began to work on ' Cirripedia/
When on the coast of Chile, I 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 recep-
tion. Lately an allied burrowing genus has been found
on the shores of Portugal. To understand the struc-
ture of my new Cirripede I had to examine and dissect
many of the common forms ; and this gradually led
me on to take up the whole group. I worked steadily
on this subject for the next eight years, and ultimately

* ' Geological Observations,' 2nd Edit. 1876. « Coral Reefs,' 2nd Edit.
1874.

CIRRIPEDES. 8 1

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 introduced 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 this time was lost by illness. On this
account I went in 1848 for some months to Malvern
for hydropathic treatment, which did me much good,
so that on my return home I was able to resume work.
So much was I out of health that when my dear father
died on November i3th, 1848, I was unable to attend
his funeral or to act as one of his executors.

My work on the Cirripedia possesses, I think, con-
siderable value, as besides describing- several new and

remarkable forms, I made out the homologies of the

various parts — I discovered the cementing apparatus,
though I blundered dreadfully about the cement glands
and lastly I proved the existence in certain genera
of minute males complemental to and parasitic on the
hermaphrodites. This latter discovery has at last been
fully confirmed ; though at one time a German writer
was pleased to attribute the whole account to my
fertile imagination. The Cirripedes form a highly
varying and difficult group of species to class ; and
my work was of considerable use to me, when I had
to discuss in the * Origin of Species ' the principles of
a natural classification. Nevertheless, I doubt whether

* Published by the Ray Society.
VOL. I. G

82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

the work was worth the consumption of so much
time.

From September 1854 I devoted my whole time to-
arranging my huge pile of notes, to observing, and to
experimenting in relation to the transmutation of
species. During the voyage of the Beagle I had been
deeply impressed by discovering in the Pampean for-
mation 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 productions 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 in a geological
sense.

It was evident that such facts as these, as well as
many others, could only be explained on the supposi-
tion that species gradually become modified ; and the
subject haunted me. But it was equally evident that
neither the action of the surrounding conditions, nor
the will of the organisms (especially in the case of
plants) could account for the innumerable cases in
which organisms of every kind are beautifully adapted
to their habits of life — for instance, a woodpecker or a
tree-frog to climb trees, or a seed for dispersal by
hooks or plumes. I had always been much struck by
such adaptations, and until these could be explained it
seemed to me almost useless to endeavour to prove
by indirect evidence that species have been modified.

'ORIGIN OF SPECIES.' 83

After my return to England it appeared to me that
by following the example of Lyell in Geology, and by
collecting all facts which bore in any way on the varia-
tion of animals and plants under domestication and
nature, some light might perhaps be thrown on the
whole subject. My first note-book was opened in July
1837. I worked on true Baconian principles, and
without any theory collected facts on a wholesale
scale, more especially with respect to domesticated
productions, 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. I soon perceived that selection was the
keystone of man's success in making useful races of
animals and plants. But how selection could be ap-
plied to organisms living in a state of nature remained
for some time a 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 appreciate the struggle for existence
which everywhere goes on from long-continued obser-
vation of the habits of animals and plants, it at once
struck me that under these circumstances favourable
variations would tend to be preserved, and unfavour-
able ones to be destroyed. The result of this would
be the formation of new species. Here then I had at
last got a theory by which to work ; but I was so
anxious to avoid prejudice, that I determined not for

G 2

84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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 summer of
1844 into one of 230 pages, which I had fairly copied
out and still possess.

But at that time I overlooked one problem of great
importance ; 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 as 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
sub-orders and so forth ; and I can remember the
very spot in the road, whilst in my carriage, when to
my joy the solution occurred to me ; and this was
long after I had come to Down. The solution, as I
believe, is that the modified offspring of all dominant
and increasing forms tend to become adapted to
many and highly diversified places in the economy of
nature.

Early in 1856 Lyell advised me to write out my
views pretty fully, and I began at once to do so on a
scale three or four times as extensive as that which
was afterwards followed in my ' Origin of Species ; '
yet it was only an abstract of the materials which I
had collected, and I got through about half the work
on this scale. But my plans were overthrown, for
early in the summer of 1858 Mr. Wallace, who was

'ORIGIN OF SPECIES.' 85

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 as 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
request of Lyell and Hooker to allow of an abstract
from my MS., together with a letter to Asa Gray,
dated September 5, 1857, to be published at the same
time with Wallace's Essay, are given in the ' Journal
of the Proceedings of the Linnean Society,' 1858, p. 45.
I was at first very unwilling to consent, as I thought
Mr. Wallace might consider my doing so unjustifiable,
for I 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 for
publication, and were badly written. Mr. Wallace's
essay, on the other hand, was admirably expressed
and quite clear. Nevertheless, our joint productions
excited very little attention, and the only published
notice of them which I can remember was by Professor
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 explained at considerable length in
order to arouse public attention.

In September 1858 I set to work by the strong
advice of Lyell and Hooker to prepare a volume on
the transmutation of species, but was often interrupted
by ill-health, and short visits to Dr. Lane's delightful

86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

hydropathic establishment at Moor Park. I ab-
stracted the MS. begun on a much larger scale in
1856, and completed the volume on the same re-
duced scale. It cost me thirteen months and ten
days' hard labour. It was published under the title of
the * Origin of Species,' in November 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 publica-
tion, and a second edition of 3000 copies soon after-
wards. Sixteen thousand copies have now (1876)
been sold in England ; and considering how stiff a
book it is, 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, according 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 Testament ! The
reviews were very numerous ; for some time I col-
lected all that appeared on the ' Origin ' and on my
related books, and these amount (excluding news-
paper reviews) to 265 ; but after a time I gave up the
attempt in despair. Many separate essays and books
on the subject have appeared ; and in Germany a
catalogue or bibliography on " Darwinismus " has
appeared every year or two.

* Miss Bird is mistaken, as I learn from Prof. Mitsukuri.— F.D.

' ORIGIN OF SPECIES.' 8/

The success of the ' Origin ' may, I 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 I was enabled to
select the more striking facts and conclusions. I had,
also, during many years followed a golden rule,
'namely, that whenever a published fact, a new obser-
vation or thought came across me, which was opposed
ito my general results, to make a memorandum of it
without fail and at once ; for I had found by ex-
perience 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
attempted to answer.

It has sometimes been said that the success of the
' Origin ' 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 seemed to doubt about
the permanence of species. Even Lyell and Hooker,
though they would listen with interest to me, never
seemed to agree. I 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 element in the success

88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

of the book was its moderate size ; and this I owe to
the appearance of Mr. Wallace's essay ; had I pub-
lished on the scale in which I began to write in 1856,
the book would have been four or five times as large
as the ' Origin,' and very few would have had the
patience to read it.

I gained much by my delay in publishing from
about 1839, when the theory was clearly conceived, to
1859 ; and I lost nothing by it, for I cared very little
whether men attributed most originality to me or
Wallace ; and his essay no doubt aided in the reception
of the theory. I was forestalled in 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 arctic regions. This view pleased me so
much that I wrote it out in extenso, and I believe that
it was read by Hooker some years before E. Forbes
published his celebrated memoir* on the subject. In
the very few points in which we differed, I still think
that I was 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 I was at work on the ' Origin,' as the explana-
tion 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 I re-
* ' Geolog. Survey Mem.,' 1846.

PUBLICATIONS. 89

member, in the early reviews of the ' Origin,' and I
recollect expressing my surprise on this head in a
letter to Asa Gray. Within late years several re-
viewers have given the whole credit to Fritz Mliller
and Hackel, who undoubtedly have worked it out
much more fully, and in some respects more cor-
rectly than I did. I had materials for a whole chapter
on the subject, and I ought to have made the discus-
sion longer ; for it is clear that I failed to impress my
readers ; and he who succeeds 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 misrepre-
sented, bitterly opposed and ridiculed, but this has
been generally done as, I believe, in good faith. On
the whole I do not doubt that my works have been
over and over again greatly overpraised. I rejoice
that I have avoided controversies, and this I owe
to Lyell, who many years ago, in reference to my
geological works, strongly advised 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 I have
been contemptuously criticised, and even when I have
been overpraised, so that I have felt mortified, it has
been my greatest comfort to say hundreds of times to
myself that " I have worked as hard and as well as
I could, and no man can do more than this." I

.90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

remember when in Good Success Bay, in Tierra del
Fuego, thinking (and, I believe, that I wrote home to
the effect) that I could not employ my life better than
'in adding a little to Natural Science. This I have done
to the best of my abilities, and critics may say what
they like, but they cannot destroy this conviction.

During the two last months of 1859 I was fully
•occupied in preparing a second edition of the ' Origin,'
and by an enormous correspondence. On January ist,
1860, I began arranging my notes for my work on the
* Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestica-
tion ; ' but it was not published until the beginning of
1 868 ; the delay having been caused partly by frequent
rillnesses, one of which lasted seven months, and partly
by being tempted to publish on other subjects which
at the time interested me more.

On May I5th, 1862, my little book on the ' Fertili-
sation of Orchids,' which cost me ten months' work,
was published : most of the facts had been slowly
.accumulated during several previous years. During
the summer of 1839, and, I believe, during the pre-
vious summer, I was led to attend to the cross-fertili-
sation 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. I attended
to the subject more or less during every subsequent
summer ; and my interest in it was greatly enhanced
by having procured and read in November 1841,
through the advice of Robert Brown, a copy of C. K.
-Sprengel's wonderful book, ' Das entdeckte Geheimniss

PUBLICATIONS. QI

•der Natur.' For some years before 1862 I had
specially attended to the fertilisation of our British
orchids ; and it seemed to me the best plan to prepare
as complete a treatise on this group of plants as well
as I could, rather than to utilise the great mass of
matter which I had slowly collected with respect to
other plants.

My resolve proved a wise one ; for since the ap-
pearance of my book, a surprising number of papers
and separate works on the fertilisation of all kinds of
flowers have appeared ; 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
Dimorphic Condition of Primula," and during the next
five years, five other papers on dimorphic and tri-
morphic 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 dimor-
phism of Linum flavum, and had at first thought that
it was merely a case of unmeaning variability. But
on examining the common species of Primula I found
that the two forms were much too regular and constant
to be thus viewed. I therefore became almost con-
vinced that the common cowslip and primrose were
on the high-road to become dioecious ; — that the short
pistil in the one form, and the short stamens in the
other form were tending towards abortion. The plants

92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

were therefore subjected under this point of view to
trial ; but as soon as the flowers with short pistils
fertilised with pollen from the short 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 be-
came 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 won-
derful case of three forms standing in a similar relation
to one another. I afterwards found that the offspring
from the union of two plants belonging to the same
forms presented a close and curious analogy with
hybrids from the union of two distinct species.

In the autumn of 1864 I finished a long paper on
4 Climbing Plants,' and sent it to the Linnean Society.
The writing 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 ob-
scurely expressed. The paper was little noticed, but
when in 1875 it was corrected and published as a
separate book it sold well. I was led to take up this
subject by reading a short paper by Asa Gray, pub-
lished in 1858. He sent me seeds, and on raising
some plants I was so much fascinated and perplexed
by the revolving movements of the tendrils and stems,
which movements are really very simple, though ap-
pearing at first sight very complex, that I procured
various other kinds of climbing plants, and studied the
whole subject. I was all the more attracted to it,

PUBLICATIONS. 93

from not being at all satisfied with the explanation
which Henslow gave us in his lectures, about twining
plants, namely, that they had a natural 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 ensuring cross-fertilisation.

My ' Variation of Animals and Plants under Do-
mestication ' was begun, as already stated, in the be-
ginning of 1860, but was not published until the
beginning of 1868. It was a big book, and cost me
four years and two months' hard labour. It gives all
my observations and an immense number of facts
collected from various sources, about our domestic
productions. In the second volume the causes and
laws of variation, inheritance, &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 Pangenesis. An unverified hypothesis is of little
or no value ; but if any one should hereafter be led 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 I had become, in the year 1837 or
1838, convinced that species were mutable productions,
I could not avoid the belief that man must come under
the same law. Accordingly I collected notes on the

94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

subject for my own satisfaction, and not for a long
time with any intention of publishing. Although in
the ' Origin of Species ' the derivation of any particular
species is never discussed, yet I thought it best, in
order that no honourable man should accuse me of
concealing my views, to add that by the work " light
would be thrown on the origin of man and his history."
It would have been useless and injurious 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 ac-
cepted the doctrine of the evolution of species, it
seemed to me advisable to work up such notes as I
possessed, and to publish a special treatise on the
origin of man. I was the more glad to do so, as it
gave me an opportunity of fully discussing sexual
selection — a subject which had always greatly inte-
rested 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 as to use all the materials
which I 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 intended to give only a chapter on the

PUBLICATIONS. 95,

subject in the ' Descent of Man,' but as soon as L
began to put my notes together, I saw that it would
require a separate treatise.

My first child was born on December 27th, 1839, and
I at once commenced to make notes on the first dawn
of the various 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
had a gradual and natural origin. During the summer
of the following year, 1840, I read Sir C. Bell's admi-
rable work on expression, and this greatly increased'
the interest which I felt in the subject, though I could
not at all agree with his belief that various muscles
had been specially created for the sake of expression.
From this time forward I 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 I was idling and resting
near Hartfield, where two species of Drosera abound ;
and I noticed that numerous insects had been en-
trapped by the leaves. I carried home some plants,,
and on giving them insects saw the movements of the
tentacles, and this made me think it probable that the
insects were caught for some special purpose. Fortu-
nately a crucial test occurred to me, that of placing a
large number of leaves in various nitrogenous and
non-nitrogenous fluids 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.

96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

During subsequent years, whenever I had leisure, I
pursued my experiments, and my book on ' Insectivo-
rous Plants' was published in July 1875 — tnat *s
sixteen years after my first observations. The delay
in this case, as with all my other books, has been a
great advantage 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.

During this autumn of 1876 I shall publish on the
' Effects of Cross and Self-Fertilisation in the Vege-
table Kingdom.' This book will form a complement
to that on the ' Fertilisation of Orchids,' in which I
showed how perfect were the means for cross-fertili-
sation, and here I shall show how important are the
results. I was led to make, during eleven years, the
numerous experiments recorded in this volume, by a
mere accidental observation ; and indeed it required
the accident to be repeated before my attention was
thoroughly aroused to the remarkable fact that seed-
lings of self-fertilised parentage are inferior, even in
the first generation, in height and vigour to seedlings
of cross-fertilised 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 " Nunc dimittis."

PUBLICATIONS. 97

Written May \st, 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 trans-
portal of pollen from one plant to another of the same
species. I now believe, however, chiefly from the
observations of Hermann M tiller, that I ought to have
insisted more strongly than I did on the many adapta-
tions for self-fertilisation ; though I was well aware of
many such adaptations. A much enlarged edition of
my ' Fertilisation 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 Hetero-
styled flowers originally published by the Linnean
Society, corrected, with much new matter added,
together with observations on some other cases in
which the same plant bears two kinds of flowers. As
before remarked, no little discovery of mine ever gave
me so much pleasure as the making out the meaning
of heterostyled flowers. The results of crossing such
flowers in an illegitimate manner, I believe to be
very important, as 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 I added a
sketch of his character and habits from material in
my possession. Many persons have been much inte-
rested by this little life, and I am surprised that only
800 or 900 copies were sold.

VOL. I. H

98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

In 1880 I published, with [my son] Frank's assistance,
our ' Power of Movement in Plants.' This was a
tough piece of work. The book bears somewhat the
same relation to my little book on ' Climbing Plants,'
which ' Cross-Fertilisation ' did to the ' Fertilisation of
Orchids ; ' for in accordance with the principle of evo-
lution it was impossible to account for climbing plants
having been developed in so many widely different
groups unless all kinds of plants possess some slight
power of movement of an analogous kind. This
I proved to be the case ; and I was further led to a
rather wide generalisation, viz. that the great and
important classes of movements, excited by light, the
attraction of gravity, &c., are all modified forms of
the fundamental movement of circumnutation. 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 movements the tip of a root possesses.

I have now (May i, 1881) sent to the printers the
MS. of a little book on ' The Formation of Vegetable
Mould, through the Action of Worms.' This is a
subject of but small importance ; and I know not
whether it will interest any readers,* but it has inte-
rested 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.

I have now mentioned all the books which I have
published, and these have been the milestones in my

• Between November 1881 and February 1884, 8500 copies have been
sold.

MANNER OF WRITING. 99

life, so that little remains to be said. I am not con-
scious of any change in my mind during the last thirty
years, excepting in one point presently to be men-
tioned ; nor, indeed, could any change have been
expected unless one of general deterioration. But my
father lived to his eighty-third year with his mind as
lively as ever it was, and all his faculties undimmed ;
and I hope that I may die before my mind fails to
a sensible extent. I think that I have become a
little more skilful in guessing right explanations and
in devising experimental tests ; but this may probably
be the result of mere practice, and of a larger store
of knowledge. I have 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 statement or proposition
in a wrong or awkward form. Formerly I used to
think about my sentences 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
I 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

H 2

100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

deal of time over the general arrangement of the
matter. I first make the rudest outline in two or
three pages, and then a larger one in several pages,
a few words or one word standing for a whole discus-
sion or series of facts. Each one of these headings is
again enlarged and often transferred before I begin to-
write in extenso. As in several of my books facts
observed by others have been very extensively used,
and as I have always had several quite distinct sub-
jects in hand at the same time, I 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. I have bought
many books, and at their ends I make an index of all
the facts that concern my work ; or, if the book is not
my own, write out a separate abstract, and of such
abstracts I have a large drawer full. Before begin-
ning 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 I have all the infor-
mation collected during my life ready for use.

I 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 as
the works of Milton, Gray, Byron, Wordsworth, Cole-
ridge, and Shelley, gave me great pleasure, and even
as a schoolboy I took intense delight in Shakespeare,
especially in the historical plays. I have also said
that formerly pictures gave me considerable, and
music very great delight. But now for many years
I cannot endure to read a line of poetry : I have tried

MENTAL QUALITIES. IOI

lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so intolerably
-dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my
taste for pictures or music. Music generally sets me
thinking too energetically 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. On the
other hand, novels which are works of the imagination,
though not of a very high order, have been for years
a wonderful relief and pleasure to me, and I often
bless all novelists. A surprising number have been
read aloud to me, and I like all if moderately good,
and if they do not end unhappily — against which a
law ought to be passed. A novel, according to my
taste, does not come into the first class unless it con-
tains some person whom one can thoroughly love,
and if a pretty woman all the better.

This curious and lamentable loss of the higher
aesthetic tastes is all the odder, as books on history,
biographies, and travels (independently of any scien-
tific facts which they may contain), and essays on all
sorts of subjects interest me as much as ever they did.
My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for
grinding general laws out of large collections of facts,
but why this should have caused the atrophy of that
part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes
depend, I cannot conceive. A man with a mind
more highly organised or better constituted than
mine, would not, I suppose, have thus suffered ; and
if I had to live my life again, I would have made a
orule to read some poetry and listen to some music at

1O2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

least once every week ; for perhaps the parts of my
brain now atrophied would thus have been kept active
through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of
happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the in-
tellect, and more probably to the moral character, by
enfeebling the emotional part of our nature.

My books have sold largely in England, have been
translated into many languages, and passed through
several editions in foreign countries. I have heard it
said that the success of a work abroad is the best test
of its enduring value. I 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 success has depended ;
though I am aware that no man can do this correctly.

I have no great quickness of apprehension or wit
which is so remarkable in some clever men, for in-
stance, Huxley. I am therefore a poor critic : a
paper or book, when first read, generally excites my
admiration, and it is only after considerable 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 hazy : it suffices to make me cautious
by vaguely telling me that I have observed or read
something opposed to the conclusion 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,

MENTAL QUALITIES. IO3

that I have never been able to remember for more
than a few days a single date or a line of poetry.

Some of my critics have said, " Oh, he is a good
observer, but he has no power of reasoning ! " I dp
not think that this can be true, for the ' Origin of
Species ' is one long 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. I have a fair share of invention,
and of common sense or judgment, such as every
fairly successful lawyer or doctor must have, but not,
I believe, in any higher degree.

On the favourable side of the balance, I think that
I am superior to the common run of men in noticing
things which easily escape attention, and in observing
them carefully. My industry has been nearly as great
as it could have been in the observation 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 my 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 under some general laws. These
causes combined have given me the patience to reflect
or ponder for any number of years over any unex-
plained problem. As far as I can judge, I am not
apt to follow blindly the lead of other men. I have
steadily endeavoured to keep my mind free so as to
give up any hypothesis, however much beloved (and I
cannot resist forming one on every subject), as soon

IO4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

as facts are shown to be opposed to it. Indeed, I
have had no choice but to act in this manner, for with
the exception of the Coral Reefs, I cannot remember a
single first-formed hypothesis which had not after a
time to be given up or greatly modified. This has
naturally led me to distrust greatly deductive reason-
ing in the mixed sciences. On the other hand, I am
not very sceptical, — a frame of mind which I believe
to be injurious 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 de-
terred from experiment or observations, which would
have proved directly or indirectly serviceable.

In illustration, I will give the oddest case which I
have known. A gentleman (who, as I afterwards
heard, is a good local botanist) wrote to me from the
Eastern counties that the seeds or beans of the com-
mon field-bean had this year everywhere grown on the
wrong side of the pod. I wrote back, asking for
further information, as I 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 pub-
lished in Kent and the other in Yorkshire, paragraphs
stating that it was a most remarkable fact that " the
beans this year had all grown on the wrong side." So
I thought there must be some foundation for so general
a statement. Accordingly, I 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

MENTAL QUALITIES. IO5

•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 farmers ; 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
almost the whole of England without any vestige of
•evidence.

I have known in the course of my life only three
intentionally falsified statements, and one of these
miay have been a hoax (and there have been several
scientific hoaxes) which, however, took in an American
Agricultural Journal. It related to the formation in
Holland of a new breed of oxen by the crossing
of distinct species of Bos (some of which I happen
to know are sterile together), and the author had
the impudence to state that he had corresponded
with me, and that I had been deeply impressed with
the importance of his result. The article was sent to
me by the editor of an English Agricultural Journal,
asking for my opinion before republishing it.

A second case was an account of several varieties,
raised by the author from several species of Primula,
which had spontaneously yielded a full complement of

106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

seed, although the parent plants had been carefully
protected from the access of insects. This account
was published before I had discovered the meaning of
heterostylism, and the whole statement must have
been fraudulent, or there was neglect in excluding
insects so gross as to be scarcely credible.

The third case was more curious : Mr. Huth pub-
lished in his book on 'Consanguineous Marriage' some
long extracts from a Belgian author, who stated that
he had interbred rabbits in the closest manner for very
many generations, without the least injurious effects.
The account was published in a most respectable
Journal, that of the Royal Society of Belgium ; but I
could not avoid feeling doubts — I hardly know why,
except that there were no accidents of any kind, and
my experience in breeding animals made me think this
very improbable.

So with much hesitation I wrote to Professor Van
Beneden, asking him whether the author was a trust-
worthy man. I 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 carry-
ing on his experiments, which must have consumed
several years, and no answer could be extracted from
him.

My habits are methodical, and this has been of not

* The falseness of the published self in a slip inserted in all the
statements on which Mr. Huth re- copies of his book which then re-
lied has been pointed out by him- mained unsold.

MENTAL QUALITIES.

a little use for my particular line of work. Lastly, I
have had ample leisure from not having to earn my
own bread. Even ill-health, though it has annihilated
several years of my life, has saved me from the dis-
tractions of society and amusement.

Therefore my success as a man of science, whatever
this may have amounted to, has been determined, as
far as I can judge, by complex and diversified mental
qualities and conditions. Of these, the most important
have been — the love of science — unbounded patience
in long reflecting over any subject — industry in observ-
ing 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 I should
have influenced to a considerable extent the belief of
scientific men on some important points.

THE STUDY AT 1K)WN.'

CHAPTER III.

REMINISCENCES OF MY FATHER'S EVERYDAY LIFE.

IT is my wish in the present chapter to give some idea of my
father's everyday life. It has seemed to me that I might
carry out this object in the form of a rough sketch of a day's
life at Down, interspersed with such recollections as are called
up by the record. Many of these recollections, which have
a meaning for those who knew my father, will seem colourless
or trifling to strangers. Nevertheless, I give them in the
hope that they may help to preserve that impression of his
personality which remains on the minds of those who knew

9Vom the 'Century Magazine,' January 1883.

HABITS AND APPEARANCE. IO9

and loved him — an impression at once so vivid and so-
untranslatable into words.

Of his personal appearance (in these days of multiplied1
photographs) it is hardly necessary to say much. He was-
about six feet in height, but scarcely looked so tall, as he
stooped a good deal ; in later days he yielded to the stoop ;
but I can remember seeing him long ago swinging his arms
back to open out his chest, and holding himself upright with a
jerk. He gave one the idea that he had been active rather
than strong ; his shoulders were not broad for his height,
though certainly not narrow. As a young man he must have
had much endurance, for on one of the shore excursions from
the Beagle, when all were suffering from want of water, he was
one of the two who were better able than the rest to struggle
on in search of it. As a boy he was active, and could jump
a bar placed at the height of the " Adam's apple " in his neck.

He walked with a swinging action, using a stick heavily
shod with iron, which he struck loudly against the ground,
producing as 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
be 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,
leaving the study door open, and calling out the last words of
his sentence as he went. Indoors he sometimes used an oak
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 naturally awk-

110 REMINISCENCES.

ward 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
I think it was by dint of his great patience and carefulness.
It 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 Newport dissect a humble bee, getting out the nervous
system with a few cuts of a fine pair of scissors, held, as my
father used to show, with the elbow raised, and in an attitude
which 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 learn to cut sections of roots and leaves. His hand was
not steady enough to hold the object to be cut, and he em-
ployed a common microtome, in which the pith for holding
the object was clamped, and the razor slid on a glass surface
in making the sections. He used to laugh at himself, and
at his own skill in section-cutting, at which he would say he
was "speechless with admiration." On the other hand, he
must have had accuracy of eye and power 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 a marble at it, and, as a man, he once killed a
cross-beak with a stone. He was so unhappy at having
uselessly killed the cross-beak that he did not mention it for
years, and then explained that he should never have thrown
at it if he had not felt sure that his old skill had gone from
him.

When walking he had a fidgeting movement with his

* The figure representing the aggregated cell-contents in ' Insectivorous
Plants ' was drawn by him.

HABITS AND APPEARANCE. Ill

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,
and from being so thin they could be crossed very far, as
may be seen in one of the photographs. He had his chair
in 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 or even an ordinary chair caused him some
discomfort. We used to laugh at him for making his tall
drawing-room chair still higher by putting footstools on it,
and then neutralising the result by resting his feet on another
chair.

His beard was full and almost untrimmed, the hair being
grey and white, fine rather than coarse, and wavy or frizzled.
His moustache was somewhat disfigured by being cut short
and square across. He became very bald, having only a fringe
of dark hair behind.

His face was ruddy in colour, and this perhaps made people
think him less of an invalid than he was. He wrote to Dr.
Hooker (June 13, 1849), "Every one tells me that I look quite
blooming and beautiful ; and most think I am shamming, but
you have never been one of those." And it must be remem-
bered that at this time he was miserably ill, far worse than in
later years. His eyes were bluish grey under deep over-
hanging brows, with thick bushy projecting eyebrows. His
high forehead was much wrinkled, but otherwise 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. His laugh was a free and
sounding peal, like that of a man who gives himself sympa-
thetically 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

112 REMINISCENCES.

a slap. I think, generally speaking, he was given to gesture,
and often used his hands in explaining anything (e.g. 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 by
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 soft 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 chilliness ; 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, so 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 when he went for the first time to a water-cure esta-
blishment. This habit he kept up till almost the end of his
life. I used, as a 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 in it. He used to delight me as a boy by
telling me how, in still earlier walks, on dark winter mornings,
he had once or twice met foxes trotting home at the dawning.

After breakfasting alone about 7.45, he went to work at
once, considering the i£ hour between 8 and 9.30 one of his
best working times. At 9.30 he came into the drawing-room
for his letters — rejoicing if the post was a light one and being

DOGS. H3

sometimes much worried if it was not. He would then
hear any family letters read aloud as he lay on the sofa.

The reading aloud, which also included part of a novel,
lasted till about half-past ten, when he went back to work
till twelve or a quarter past. By this time he considered his
day's work over, and would often say, in a satisfied voice,
" I've done a good day's work." He then went out of doors
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 verandah, 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
evidently gone she could not bear to stay behind.

My father was always fond of dogs, and as a young
man had the power of stealing away the affections of his
sisters' 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 devoted to him, but unfriendly to every one else, and
when he came back from the Beagle voyage, the dog remem-
bered him, but in a curious way, which my father was fond
of telling. He went into the yard and shouted in his old
manner ; the dog rushed out and set off with him on his
walk, showing no more emotion or excitement than if the
same thing had happened the day before, instead of five
years ago. This story is made use of in the 'Descent of
Man,' 2nd Edit. p. 74.

In my memory there were only two dogs which had much
connection with my father. One was a large black and white
half-bred retriever, called 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

VOL. i. I

1 14 REMINISCENCES.

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 low-
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 re-grown
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-terrier, thus the
red hair appearing after the burn showed the presence of
atent red gemmules. He was delightfully tender to Polly,
and never showed any impatience at the attentions she
required, such as to be let in at the door, or out at the
verandah window, to bark at " naughty people," a self-im-
posed duty she much enjoyed. She died, or rather had to be
killed, a few days after his death.*

My father's midday walk generally began by a call at the
greenhouse, where he looked at any germinating seeds or
experimental plants which required a casual examination, 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 i£ acres in extent, with a gravel-walk round
it On one side of it was a broad old shaw with fair-sized

* The basket in which she usually Parsons' drawing given at the head
lay curled up near the fire in his of the chapter,
study is faithfully represented in Mr.

WALKS. 1 1 5

oaks in it, which made a sheltered shady walk ; the other side
was separated from a neighbouring grass field 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, stretching away to the Westerham road. I have
heard my father 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, and
dogwood, and with a long line of hollies all down the exposed
side. In earlier times he took a certain number of turns
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 as he walked round. He liked
to see what we were doing, and was ever ready to sympathize
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
how 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
their 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,
as a little boy, because he observed the agony of mind which
I endured at not having seen the siskin or goldfinch, or
whatever it might have been. He used to tell us how, when

I 2

1 16 REMINISCENCES.

he was creeping noiselessly along in the " Big- Woods," he
came upon a fox asleep in the daytime, which was so much
astonished that it took a good stare at him before it ran off.
A Spitz dog which accompanied him showed no sign of
excitement at the fox, and he used to end the story by
wondering how the dog could have been so 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 Neottia under
the beech boughs ; the little wood " Hangrove," just above
this, he was also fond of, and here I remember his collecting
grasses, when he took a fancy to make out the names of
all the common kinds. He was fond of quoting the saying
of one of his little boys, who, having found a grass that his
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 a party,
sitting out on a bench on the lawn ; he generally sat, however,
on the grass, and I remember him often lying under one of
the big lime-trees, with his head on the green mound at its
foot. In dry summer weather, when we often sat out, the
big fly-wheel of the well was commonly heard spinning round,
and so the sound became associated with those pleasant days.
He used to like to watch us playing at lawn-tennis, 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
the drawing-room. I think he sometimes fused together his ad-
miration of the structure of a flower and of its intrinsic beauty ;
for instance, 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 Lobelia. In admiring

RIDING. II/

flowers, he would often laugh at the dingy high-art colours,
and contrast them with the bright tints of nature. I used 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 feeling
came out in abuse as well as in praise — e.g. of some seedlings
— "The little beggars are doing just what I 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 a
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 memory, his only outdoor recreation, besides
walking, was riding, which he took to on the recommendation
of Dr. Bence 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 short
rounds which brought him home in time for lunch. Our
country is good for this purpose, owing to the number of small
valleys which give a variety to what in a flat country would
be a dull loop of road. He was not, I think, naturally fond
of horses, nor had he a high opinion of their intelligence, and
Tommy was often laughed at for the alarm he showed at
passing and repassing the same heap of hedge-clippings as
he went round the field. I think he used to feel surprised at
himself, when he remembered how bold a rider he had been,
and how utterly old age and bad health had taken away his
nerve. He would say that riding prevented him thinking

* Cf. Leslie Stephen's 'Swift,' father's observations on worms,

1882, p. 200, where Swift's inspec- " The difference is," says Mr.

tion of the manners and customs Stephen, "that Darwin had none

of servants are compared to my but kindly feelings for wormsv"

Il8 REMINISCENCES.

much more effectually than walking — that having to attend
to the horse gave him occupation sufficient to prevent any
really hard thinking. And the change of scene which it gave
him was good for spirits and health.

Unluckily, Tommy one day fell heavily with him on
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 I have
heard him say of his love for sport, &c., I can think of a good
deal, but much of it would be a repetition of what is con-
tained in his ' Recollections.' At school he was fond of bat-
fives, and this was the only game at which he was skilful.
He was fond of his gun 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
as English snipe.

Luncheon at Down came after his midday walk ; and
here I may say a word or 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
particularly successful in keeping the "vows," as he called
them, which he made against eating sweets, and never con-
sidered 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 warned his boys that any one might be led
into drinking too much. I 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 say he had
once drunk too much at Cambridge. I was much impressed,
so that I know now the place where the question was asked.

After his lunch, he read the newspaper, lying on the sofa
in the drawing-room. I think the paper was the only non-
scientific matter which he read to himself. Everything else,

CORRESPONDENCE. 119

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. His interest
in politics was considerable, but his opinion on these matters
was formed rather by the way than with any serious amount
of thought.

After he had read his paper, came his time for writing
letters. These, as well as the MS. of his books, were written
by him as he sat in a huge horse-hair chair by the fire, his
paper supported on a board resting on the arms of 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-sheets, and were almost
illegible, sometimes even to himself. He made a rule of
keeping all letters that he received ; this was a habit which
he learnt from his father, and which he said had been of
great use to him.

He received many letters from foolish, unscrupulous people,
and all of these received replies. 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 wide-
spread sense of his kindness of nature, which was so evident
on his death.

He was considerate to his correspondents in other and lesser
things, for instance when dictating a letter to a foreigner he
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 that they would be carelessly read ; thus,
when he was dictating, he was careful to tell me to make an
important clause begin with an obvious paragraph " to catch
his eye," as he often said. How much he thought of the trouble
he gave others by asking questions, will be well enough shown
by his letters. It is difficult to say anything about the general

120 REMINISCENCES.

tone of his letters, they will speak for themselves. The un-
varying courtesy of them is very striking. I had a proof of
this quality in the feeling with which Mr. Hacon, his solicitor,
regarded him. He had never seen my father, yet had a
sincere feeling 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 had a printed form to be used in replying to troublesome
correspondents, but he hardly ever used it ; I suppose he never
found an occasion that seemed exactly suitable. I 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
»vas 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 genuinely 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.
I remember the quick way in which he would reach out for
his account-book to enter each cheque paid, as though he were
in a hurry to get it entered 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 experi-
enced in finding a house in the country must have arisen
from the modest sum he felt prepared to give. Yet he knew,

BUSINESS. 121

of course, that he would be in easy circumstances, for in his
' Recollections ' he mentions this as one of the reasons for his
not having worked at medicine with so much zeal as he
would have done if he had been obliged to gain his living.

He had a pet economy in paper, but it was rather a hobby
than a real economy. All the blank sheets of letters received
were kept in a 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
remember 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 was 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 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 I 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,
he rested in his bedroom, lying on the sofa and smoking
a cigarette, and listening to a novel or other book not
scientific. He only smoked when resting, whereas snufif

122 REMINISCENCES.

was a stimulant, and was taken during working hours. He
took snuff for many years of his life, having learnt the habit
at Edinburgh as a student. 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 he speaks of having
given up snuff for a month, and describes himself as feeling
" most lethargic, stupid and melancholy." Our former neigh-
bour and clergyman, Mr. Brodie Innes, tells 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,
4< as I kept a box in my study to which there was access from
the garden without summoning servants, and I had more
frequently, than might have been otherwise the case, the
privilege of a few minutes' conversation with my dear friend."
He generally took snuff from a jar on the hall table, because
having to go this distance for a pinch was a slight check ; the
clink 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
on his Pampas rides he learned to smoke with the Gauchos,
and I have heard him speak of the great comfort of a cup of
matt and a cigarette when he halted after a long ride and
was unable to get food for some time.

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 regular
that one might be quite certain it was within a few minutes
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

MUSIC. 123

(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
half-past seven (while we had dinner), with an egg or a small
piece of meat. After dinner he never stayed in the room,
and used to apologise by saying he was an old woman, who
must be allowed to leave with the ladies. This was one of
the many signs and results of his constant weakness and ill-
health. Half an hour more or less conversation would make
to him the difference of a sleepless night, and of the loss
perhaps of half the next day's work.

After dinner he played backgammon with my mother, two
games being played every night ; for many years a score of
the games which each won was kept, and in this score he took
the greatest interest He became extremely animated over
these games, bitterly lamenting his bad luck and exploding
with exaggerated mock-anger at my mother's good fortune.

After backgammon he read some scientific book to himself,
either in the drawing-room, or, if much talking was going on,
in the study.

In the evening, that is, after he had read as much as his
strength would allow, and before the reading aloud began,
he would often lie on the sofa and listen to my mother playing
the piano. He had not a good ear, yet in spite of this he had
a true love of fine music. He used to lament that his enjoy-
ment of music had become dulled with age, yet within my
recollection his love of a good tune was strong. I never heard
him hum more than one tune, the Welsh song " Ar hyd y nos,"
which he went through correctly ; he used also, I believe, to
hum a little Otaheitan song. From his want of ear he was
unable to recognize a tune when he heard it again, but he
remained constant to what he liked, and would often say,
when an old favourite was played, " That's a fine thing ; what
is it ? " He liked especially parts of Beethoven's symphonies,
-and bits of Handel. He made a little list of all the pieces

124 REMINISCENCES.

which he especially liked among those which my mother
played — giving in a few words the impression that each one
made on him — but these notes are unfortunately lost He
was sensitive to differences in style, and enjoyed the late Mrs.
Vernon Lushington's playing intensely, and in June 1881,
when Hans Richter paid a visit at Down, he was roused to
strong enthusiasm by his magnificent performance on the
piano. He much enjoyed good singing, and was moved
almost to tears by grand or pathetic songs. His niece Lady
Farrer's singing of Sullivan's " Will he come " was a never-
failing enjoyment to him. He was humble in the extreme
about his own taste, and correspondingly pleased when he
found that others agreed with him.

He became much tired in the evenings, especially of late
years, and left the drawing-room about ten, going to bed at
half-past ten. His nights were generally bad, and he often
lay awake or sat up in bed for hours, suffering much discom-
fort He was troubled at night by the activity of his thoughts,
and would become exhausted by his mind working at some
problem which he would willingly have dismissed. At night,
too, anything which had vexed or troubled him in the day
would haunt him, and I think it was then that he suffered if
he had not answered some troublesome person's letter.

The regular readings, which I have mentioned, continued
for 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 anticipate 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 a novel as a
feminine vice. He could not enjoy any story with a tragical
end, for this reason he did not keenly appreciate George
Eliot, though he often spoke warmly in praise of 'Silas

PICTURES. 125

Marner.' Walter Scott, Miss Austen, and Mrs. Gaskell, were
read and re-read till they could be read no more. He had
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 generally kept
to the books of the day obtained from a circulating library.

I 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
in matters of literary taste, he was quite outside the pale, and
often spoke of what those within it liked or disliked, as if they
formed a class to which he had no claim to belong.

In all matters of art he was inclined to laugh at professed
critics, and say that their opinions were formed by fashion.
Thus in painting, he would say how in his day every one
admired masters who are now neglected. His love of
pictures as a young man is almost a proof that he must have
had an appreciation of a portrait as a work of art, not as a
likeness. 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 generally said in his attempts
to persuade us to give up the idea of having his portrait
painted, 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
taste, as well as to more serious things, he always had the
courage of his opinions. I remember, however, an instance
that sounds like a contradiction to this : when he was looking
at the Turners in Mr. Ruskin's bedroom, he did not confess,
as 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 courtesy
to his host. He was pleased and amused when subsequently

126 REMINISCENCES.

Mr. Ruskin brought him some photographs of pictures (I think
Vandyke portraits), and courteously seemed to value my
father's opinion about them.

Much of his scientific reading was in German, and this
was a great labour to him ; in reading a book after him, I was
often struck at seeing, from the pencil-marks made each day
where he left off, how little he could read at a time. 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,
and often praised Dr. F. Hildebrand for writing German
which was as clear as French. He sometimes gave a German
sentence to a friend, a patriotic German lady, and used to
laugh at her if she did not translate it fluently. He himself
learnt 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 out a German sentence
and asked for a translation. He certainly had a bad ear for
vocal sounds, so that he found it impossible to perceive 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
of text books, such as Huxley's * Invertebrate Anatomy/ or

READING. 127

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.

In 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. I wish
I could reproduce the manner in which he would laugh at
himself for it.

It was remarkable, too, how he kept up his interest in
subjects at which he had formerly worked. This was strik-
ingly the case with geology. In one of his letters to Mr. Judd
he begs him to pay him a visit, saying that since Lyell's death
he hardly ever gets a geological talk. His observations,,
made only a few years before his death, on the upright
pebbles in the drift at Southampton, and discussed in a letter
to Mr. Geikie, afford another instance. Again, in the letters
to Dr. Dohrn, he shows how his interest in barnacles 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 less 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.

It was a sure sign that he was not well when he was idle
at any times other than his regular resting hours ; for, as long
as he remained moderately well, there was no break in the
regularity of his life. Week-days and Sundays passed by

128 REMINISCENCES.

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 I have sketched : and with what pain and diffi-
culty anything beyond it was attempted. Any public ap-
pearance, even of the most modest kind, was an effort to him.
In 1871 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
similar ceremonies.

I remember him many years ago at a christening; a
memory which has remained with me, because to us children
it seemed an extraordinary and abnormal occurrence. I re-
member his look most distinctly at his brother Erasmus's
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
a meeting of the Linnean Society, 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

HOLIDAYS. 129

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 on which
he started for a holiday and that of his return.

The most frequent holidays were visits of a week to
London, 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 frequency 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 come 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
previous day, and the chief part of it he would do himself.
The discomfort of a journey to him was, at least latterly,
chiefly in the anticipation, and in the miserable sinking feeling-
from which he suffered immediately before the start ; even a
fairly long journey, such as that to Coniston, tired him wonder-
fully little, considering how much an invalid he was ; and he-
certainly enjoyed it in an almost boyish way, and to a curious
extent. •

Although, as he has said, some of his aesthetic tastes had
suffered 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] ls that of a
delightful visit to Grasmere : " The perfect day," my sister
writes, " and my father's vivid enjoyment and flow of spirits,
form a 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 returning he was full of the beauty of Rydal Water, though

VOL. I. K

130 REMINISCENCES.

he would not allow that Grasmere at all equalled his beloved
Coniston."

Besides these longer holidays, there were shorter visits to
various relatives — to his brother-in-law's house, close to Leith
Hill, and to his son near Southampton. He always particularly
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 house of his friend Sir Thomas Farrer. He never
was quite idle even on these holidays, and found things to
observe. At Hartfield he watched Drosera catching insects,
&c. ; at Torquay he observed the fertilisation of an orchid
(Spirant/tes), 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 with excitement, panting, squeaking,
rushing round the room, and jumping on and off the chairs ;
and he used to stoop down, pressing her face to his, letting
her lick him, and speaking to her with a peculiarly tender,
caressing voice.

My father had the power of giving to these summer
holidays a charm which was strongly felt by all his family.
The pressure of his 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 seemed as though the absence of the cus-
tomary strain allowed him to fall into a peculiar condition
of miserable health.

Besides the holidays which I have mentioned, there were his

HOLIDAYS. 131

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 him. 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 to 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 — commonplace
people, in short, as the majority are everywhere, but like to
him at least in this, that they were fellow-creatures and
fellow-patients. And never was any one more genial, more
considerate, more friendly, more altogether charming than he
universally was." .... He " never aimed, as too often happens
with good talkers, at monopolising the conversation. It was
his pleasure rather to give and take, and he was as good
a listener as a speaker. He never preached nor prosed, but
his talk, whether grave or gay (and it was each by turns), was
full 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

K 2

132 REMINISCENCES.

married life I cannot speak, save in the briefest manner. In
his 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, — became one
of content and quiet gladness.

The ' Expression of the Emotions ' shows how closely he
watched his children ; it was characteristic of him that (as
I have heard 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 delight to play with you all, and I 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,
written a 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
23rd of April, 1851.

" I 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

WITH HIS CHILDREN. 133

come running downstairs with a stolen pinch of snuff 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 I thank God I hardly ever cast one on
her), but of want of sympathy, would for some minutes alter
her whole countenance.

" The other point in her character, which made her joyous-
ness 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 touching
her mother, when in bed with her ; and quite lately she would,
when poorly, fondle for any length of time one of her 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 smooth-
ing, the poor dear darling, my collar or cuffs — in short, in
fondling me.

" Besides 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, which nothing could have changed. All her move-
ments 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 smiles. Occasionally she had a pretty coquettish
manner towards me, the memory of which is charming.
She often used exaggerated language, and when I quizzed
her by exaggerating what she had said, how clearly can

134 REMINISCENCES.

I now sec the little toss of the head, and exclamation of,
• Oh, papa, what a shame of you ! ' In the last short illness, her
conduct in simple truth was angelic. She never once com-
plained ; 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 everything that was given her, and
said some tea ' was beautifully good.' When I 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 must have known how we loved her. Oh,
that she could now know how deeply, how tenderly, we do still
and shall ever love her dear joyous face ! Blessings on her !

"April 30, 1851."

We his children all took especial pleasure in the games he
played at with us, but I do not think he romped much with
us ; I suppose his health prevented any rough play. He used
sometimes to tell us stories, which were considered specially
delightful, partly on account of their rarity.

The way he brought us up is shown by a little story
about my brother 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 of the room." I do 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
one 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

WITH HIS CHILDREN. 135

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 I was a boy. He allowed his grown-up chil-
dren to laugh 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 plans 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 the other
hand, he was only too much inclined to take a favourable
view of our work. When I thought he had set too high a
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 humility concerning what was in any way con-
nected 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 delightful manner of
expressing his thanks ; and I never wrote a letter, or read a
page aloud to him, without receiving a few kind words of re-
cognition. His love and goodness towards his little grandson
Bernard were great ; and he often spoke of the pleasure it was
to him to see " his little face opposite to him " at luncheon.
He and Bernard used to compare their tastes ; e.g., in liking
brown sugar better than white, &c. ; the result being, " We
always agree, don't we ? "

My sister writes : —

" My first remembrances of my father are of the delights of
his playing with us. He was passionately attached to his

136 REMINISCENCES.

own children, although he was not an indiscriminate child-
lover. To all 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 of the terms on which we were, and also of
how much he was valued as a play-fellow, that one of his sons
when about four years old tried to bribe him with sixpence to
come and play in working hours. We all 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
nurses. 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 have been in his working hours, for I
always picture him sitting in the horse-hair arm-chair by the
corner 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,
stamps, foot-rule, or hammer. These and other such neces-
saries were always to be found in the study, and it was the
only place where this was a certainty. We used to feel it
wrong to go in during work-time ; still, when the necessity was
great, we did so. I remember his patient look when he said
once, ' Don't you think you could not come in again, I have
been interrupted very often.' We used to dread going in for
sticking-plaster, because he disliked to see that we had cut
ourselves, both for our sakes and on account of his acute
sensitiveness to the sight of blood. I well remember lurking
about the passage till he was safe away, and then stealing
in for the plaster.

" 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

WITH HIS CHILDREN. 137

intimate friends), I do not think any one came to the house.
After lessons, we were always free to go where we would, and
that 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 Beagle, or about early Shrewsbury 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 I remember a few little lectures on the steam-engine.

" I was more or less ill during the five years between my
thirteenth and eighteenth years, and for a long time (years it
seems 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 at one 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 I 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 move 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 room, 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 I 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 feel how he cared for what we cared for. He had
no special taste for cats, though he admired the pretty ways
of a kitten. But yet he knew and remembered the individu-

138 REMINISCENCES.

alitics of my many cats, and would talk about the habits
and characters of the more remarkable ones yeurs after they
had died.

"Another characteristic of his treatment of his children was
his respect for their liberty, and for their personality. Even
as quite a girl, I remember rejoicing in this sense of freedom.
Our father and mother would not even wish to know what \vc
were doing or thinking unless we wished to tell. He always
made us feel that we were each of us creatures whose opinions
and thoughts were valuable to him, so that whatever there
was best in us came out in the sunshine of his presence.

" I do not think his exaggerated sense of our good qualities,
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 a much
deeper and more lasting effect than any small exaltation
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, as a small boy, I overheard a servant
being scolded, and my father speaking angrily, it impressed
me as an appalling circumstance, and I remember running up
stairs out of a general sense of awe. He did not trouble
himself about the management of the garden, cows, &c.
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 nurseries
for plants, or the like.

As a host my father had a peculiar charm : the presence of
visitors excited him, and made him appear to his best ad van-

VISITORS. 139

tage. 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 conscientiously 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 himself.
If, however, they were not deterred, he used to arrange their
journeys for them, telling them when to come, and practically
when to go. It 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 gave 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 I always had satisfaction in
seeing. 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 was bright and
excited throughout the whole visit. Professor De Candolle
has described a visit to Down, in his admirable and sympa-
thetic sketch of my father.* He speaks of his manner

* ' Darwin conside're' au point de vue des causes de son succes.' — Geneva,
1882.

140 REMINISCENCES.

as resembling that of a " savant " of Oxford or Cambridge.
This does not strike me as quite a good comparison ; in
his ease and naturalness there was more of the manner of
some soldiers ; a manner arising from total absence of pre-
tence or affectation. It 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 to flow out of his sympathetic nature, and
humble, vivid interest in other people's work.

To some, I think, he caused actual pain by his modesty ;
I 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
tell," 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 parenthesis, and
it was often impossible to understand the drift of what he was
saying until he came to the end of his sentence. He used
to say of himself that he was not quick enough to 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 about the effect of isolation, he
did not recall the series of facts he wanted until some days
after the first letter had been sent off.

When puzzled in talking, he had a peculiar stammer on the

MANNER. 141

first word of a sentence. I 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 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 gave 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 before 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 servant.

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 or 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 combina-

* My father related a Johnsonian sir, because I have time to think

answer of Erasmus Darwin's : before I speak, and don't ask im-

" Don't you find it very inconvenient pertinent questions."
stammering, Dr. Darwin ? " " No,

142 REMINISCENCES.

tion of raillery and deference in his manner was delightful
to sec.

When my father had several guests he managed them well,
getting a talk with each, or bringing two or three together
round his chair. In these conversations there was always
a good deal of fun, and, speaking generally, there was either
a humorous turn in his talk, or a sunny geniality which
served instead. Perhaps my recollection of a pervading cle-
ment of humour is the more vivid, because the best talks were
with Mr. Huxley, in whom there is 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 ! " I 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 that for the
friends of his later life he had not the warm affection of
his youth. Certainly in his early 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 his 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
given. He undoubtedly had, to an unusual degree, the power
of attaching his friends to him. He had many warm friend-
ships, but to Sir Joseph Hooker he was bound by ties of
affection stronger than we often see among men. He wrote
in his ' Recollections,' " I have known hardly any man more
lovable than Hooker." .

His relationship to the village people was a pleasant one ;
he treated them, one and all, with courtesy, when he came in
contact 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-

FRIENDS. 143

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 in a little
speech seasoned with a few well-worn jokes. He was often
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 Magistrate.

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 so continued till his death. His conduct towards
me and my family was one of unvarying kindness, and we
repaid it by warm affection.

" In all parish matters he was an active assistant ; in
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 in other
parishes, I was always sure of his support. He held that
where there was 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 scrupulous
and rather formal politeness, but in fact he had few oppor-
tunities of meeting strangers.

Dr. Lane has described * how, on the rare occasion of my
father attending a lecture (Dr. Sanderson's) at the Royal Insti-
tution, " the whole assembly . . . rose to their feet to wel-
come him," while he seemed " scarcely conscious that such an
outburst of applause could possibly be intended for himself."

* Lecture by Dr. B. W." Richardson, in St. George's Hall, Oct. 22, 1882.

144 REMINISCENCES.

The quiet life he led at Down made him feel confused in a
large society ; for instance, at the Royal Society's soirtes he
felt oppressed by the numbers. The feeling that he ought to
know people, and the difficulty he had in remembering faces
in his latter years, also added to his discomfort on such
occasions. He did not realise that he would be recognised
from his photographs, and I remember his being uneasy at
being obviously recognised by a stranger at the Crystal Palace
Aquarium.

I must say something of his manner of working: one
characteristic 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 a few spare minutes from thinking that it was not
worth while to set to work. I 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 I
mustn't do any more." The same eager desire not to lose
time was seen in his quick movements when at work. I
particularly remember noticing this when he was making an
experiment on the roots of beans, which required some care
in 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
it on a cork, and seeing that it was vertical, &c. ; all these
processes were performed with a kind of restrained eagerness.
He always gave one the impression of working with pleasure,
and not with any drag. I have an image, too, of him as he
recorded the result of some experiment, looking eagerly at
each root, &c., and then writing with equal eagerness. I

WORK. 145

remember the quick movement of his head up and down as
he looked from the object to the notes.

He saved a great deal of time through not having to do
things 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
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 a one it was. He wished to learn as much
as possible from an experiment, so that he did not confine
himself to observing the single point to which the experiment
was directed, and his power of seeing a number of other things
was wonderful. I do not think he cared for preliminary or
rough observations intended to serve as guides and to be
repeated. Any experiment done was to be of some use, and
in this connection I remember how strongly he urged the
necessity of keeping the notes of experiments which failed,
and to this rule he always adhered.

In the literary part of his work he had the same horror of
losing time, and the same zeal in what he was doing at the
moment, and this made him careful not to be obliged unneces-
sarily to read anything a 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 extraordinary that
he should have had no compound microscope when he went
his Beagle voyage ; but in this he followed the advice of
Robt. Brown, who 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

VOL. I. L

146 REMINISCENCES.

suspects the work of a man who never uses the simple
microscope.

His dissecting table was a thick board, let into a window
of the study ; it was lower than an ordinary table, so that
he could not have worked at it standing; but this, from
wishing to save his strength, he would not have done in any
case. He sat at his dissecting-table on a 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 easily from 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 a round 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," " pre-
parations for specimens," &c. The most marked peculiarity
of the contents 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, &c., 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 germinating
seeds, zinc labels, saucers full of sand, &c., &c. Considering
how tidy and methodical he was in essential things, it is
curious that he bore with so many make-shifts : for instance,
instead of having a box made of a desired shape, and
stained black inside, he would hunt up something like what
he wanted and get it darkened inside with shoe-blacking ;
he did not care to have glass covers made for tumblers in
which he germinated seeds, but used broken bits of irregular
shape, with perhaps a narrow angle sticking uselessly out on
one side. But so much of his experimenting was of a simple

WORK. 147

kind, that he had no need for any elaboration, and I think
his habit in this respect was in great measure due to his
desire to husband his strength, and not waste it on inessential
things.

His way of marking objects may here be mentioned. If
he had a number of things to distinguish, such as leaves,
flowers, &c., he tied threads of different colours round them.
In 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 flower. I remember well the look of two sets of cap-
sules, 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 zinc-plate ; and the zinc-label, which gave
the necessary details 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 the " self-fertilised."

His love of each particular experiment, and his eager zeal
not to lose the fruit of it, came out markedly in these cross-
ing experiments — in the elaborate care he took not to make
any confusion in putting capsules into wrong trays, &c., &c.
I can recall his appearance as he counted seeds 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, or jumping away altogether ; and this
gave to the work the excitement of a game. He had great
faith in instruments, and I do not think it naturally occurred
to him to doubt the accuracy of a scale or measuring
glass, &c. He was astonished when we found that one of his
micrometers differed from the other. He did not require any

L 2

148 REMINISCENCES.

great accuracy in most of his measurements, and had not
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 — unless, indeed, the last borrower had forgotten
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. It was characteristic of him that he took
scrupulous pains in making measurements 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
book, in which it turned out to be inaccurately given. He
had a chemical balance which dated from the days when he
worked at chemistry with his brother Erasmus. Measure-
ments of capacity were made with an apothecary's measuring
glass : I remember well its rough look and bad graduation.
With this, too, I remember the great care he took in getting
the fluid-line on to the graduation. I do not mean by this
account of his instruments that any of his experiments suffered
from want of accuracy in measurement, I give them as
examples of his simple methods and faith in others — faith at
least 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
mind 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
as an exception when it is striking or frequent, but he had a
special instinct for arresting an exception. A point appa-
rently slight and unconnected with his present work is passed
over by many a man almost unconsciously with some half-
considered explanation, which is in fact no explanation. It

WORK. 149

was just these things that he seized on to make a start from.
In a certain sense there is nothing special in this procedure,
many discoveries being made by means of it. I only mention
it because, as I watched him at work, the value of this power
to an experimenter was so strongly impressed upon me.

Another quality which was shown in his experimental work,
was his power of sticking to a subject ; he used almost to
apologise for his patience, saying that he could not bear to
be beaten, as if this were rather a sign ot weakness on his
part. He often quoted the saying, " It's dogged as does it ;"
and I think doggedness expresses his frame of mind almost
better than perseverance. Perseverance seems hardly to
express his almost fierce desire to force the truth to reveal
itself. He often said that it was important that a man should
know 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
he was an active theoriser. 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 example I
may mention that finding the cotyledons of Biophytum to be
highly sensitive to vibrations of the table, he fancied that they

I5O REMINISCENCES.

might perceive the vibrations of sound, and therefore made
me play my bassoon close to a plant*

The love of experiment was very strong in him, and I can
remember the way he would say, " I shan't be easy till I have
tried it," as if an outside force were driving him. He enjoyed
experimenting much more than work which only entailed
reasoning, 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
working upon the ' Variations of Animals and Plants,' in
1 860-6 1, he made out the fertilisation of Orchids, and thought
himself idle for giving so much time to them. It is inte-
resting to think that so important a piece of research should
have been undertaken and largely worked out as a pastime
in place of more serious work. The letters to Hooker of this
period contain expressions such as, " God forgive me for
being so idle ; I am quite sillily interested in the work." The
intense pleasure 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.
4 Recollections ' the strong satisfaction he felt in solving the
problem of heterostylism. And I have heard him mention
that the Geology 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 qualities.

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, as hap-
pened to Miiller's ' Befruchtung,' he preserved it from complete
dissolution by putting a metal clip over its back. In the same

* This is not so much an example small cause, but only of his wish to.
of superabundant theorising from a test the most improbable ideas.

WORK. 151

way he would cut a heavy book in half, to make it more con-
venient to hold. He used to boast that he had made Lyell
publish the second edition of one of his books in two volumes,
instead of in one, by telling him how he had been obliged to
cut it in half. Pamphlets were often treated even more
severely than books, for he would tear out, for the sake of
saving room, all the pages except the one that interested him.
The consequence of all this was, that his library was not
ornamental, but was striking from being so evidently a working
collection of books.

He was methodical in his manner of reading books and
pamphlets bearing on his own work. He had one shelf on
which were piled up the books he had not yet read, and
another 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 trans-
ferred to the other heap, either marked with a cypher at the
end, to show that it contained no marked passages, or in-
scribed, perhaps, " not read," or " only skimmed." The books
accumulated in the " read " heap until the shelves overflowed,
and then, with much lamenting, a day was given up to the
cataloguing. He disliked this work, and as the necessity
of undertaking 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 a 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

152 REMINISCENCES.

different subjects. He had other sets of abstracts arranged,
not according to subject, but according to periodical. When
collecting 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 early 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
describes the method in his ' Phytologie,' 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
full of notes, there are large bundles of MS. marked " used "
and put away. He felt the value of his notes, and had a
horror of their destruction by fire. I remember, when some
alarm of fire had happened, his begging me to be especially
careful, 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 have a copy,
or the less would have killed me." In writing a 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 'Life of Erasmus
Darwin,' as it was first printed in slips, the growth of the
book from a skeleton was plainly visible. The arrangement

* The racks in which the port- chapter, in the recess at the right-
folios were placed are shown in the hand side of the fire-place,
illustration at the head of the

WORK. 153

was altered afterwards, because it was too formal and cate-
gorical, and seemed to give the character of his grandfather
rather by means of a list of qualities than as a complete
picture.

It 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 straight 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 rough copy was then reconsidered, and a fair copy was
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 hand-
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.
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. When 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
corrections 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. Litchfield, did much

154 REMINISCENCES.

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 itself, and it was inex-
pressibly exhilarating to work for him. He was always so
ready to be convinced that any suggested alteration was an
improvement, and so full of gratitude for the trouble taken.
I do not think that he ever used to forget to tell me what im-
provement he thought I had made, and he used almost to
excuse himself if he did not agree with any correction. I
think I felt the singular modesty and graciousness of his
nature through thus working for him in a way I never should
otherwise have done.

" He did not write with ease, 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 he
possibly could."

Perhaps the commonest corrections needed were of obscur-
ities due to the omission of a necessary link in the reasoning
something which he had evidently omitted through familiarity
with the subject. Not that there was any fault in the sequence
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, I think the pains which my father took over
the literary 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 a 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 laughing

STYLE. I 5 5

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 cases he acted in a somewhat similar manner. When
a 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
least 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 cha-
racteristic of himself in its simplicity, bordering on nai'vete,
and in its absence of pretence. He had the strongest disbelief
in the common idea that a classical scholar must write good
English ; indeed, 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. 440, there is a description of a larval cirripede, " with
six pairs of beautifully constructed natatory legs, a pair of
magnificent compound eyes, and extremely complex antennae."
We used to laugh at him for this sentence, which we com-
pared to an advertisement. This tendency to give himself
up to the enthusiastic turn of his thought, without fear of
being ludicrous, appears elsewhere in his writings.

His courteous and conciliatory tone towards his reader is
remarkable, and it must be partly this quality which revealed
his personal sweetness of character to so many who had
never seen him. I have always felt it to be a curious fact,
that he who has altered the face of Biological Science,
and is in this respect the chief of the moderns, should
have written and worked in so 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

156 REMINISCENCES.

the word, that is, a man who works at many branches of
science, not merely a specialist in one. Thus it is, that,
though he founded whole new divisions of special subjects
— such as the fertilisation of flowers, insectivorous plants,
dimorphism, &c. — yet even in treating these very subjects
he does not strike the reader as a specialist. The reader
feels 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 others ; 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,
or 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 over points
which he imagined would strike the reader, or save him
trouble, and so tempt him to read.

For the same reason he took much interest in the illus-
trations of his books, and I 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,'
1 Insectivorous Plants,' the ' Movements of Plants,' and
' Forms of Flowers,' were, to a large extent, illustrated by
some of his children — my brother George having drawn by
far the most. It was delightful to draw for him, as he was
enthusiastic in his praise of very moderate performances. I
remember xvell his charming manner of receiving the drawings
of one of his daughters-in-law, and how he would finish his

words of praise by saying, " Tell A , Michael Angelo is

nothing to it." Though he praised so generously, he always

STYLE. 157

looked closely at the drawing, and easily detected mistakes or
carelessness.

He had a horror of being lengthy, and seems 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, " Let no man say, ' Come, I'll write a
duodecimo.' "

His consideration for other authors was as marked a cha-
racteristic as his tone towards his reader. He speaks of
all other authors as persons deserving of respect. In cases

where, as in the case of 's experiments on Drosera, he

thought lightly of the author, he speaks of him in such a
way that no one would suspect it. In other cases he treats
the confused writings of ignorant persons as though the fault
lay with himself for not appreciating or understanding them.
Besides this general tone of respect, he had a pleasant way of
expressing his opinion on the value of a quoted work, or his
obligation for a piece of private information.

His respectful feeling was not only morally beautiful, but
was I think of practical use in making him 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.

It was a great merit in his mind that, in spite of having so
strong a 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
as illustrations. I gained the impression that he felt this
power of judging of a man's trustworthiness to be of much
value.

He had a keen feeling of the sense of honour that ought to
reign among authors, and had a horror of any kind of laxness

158 REMINISCENCES.

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 depart-
ing from his ideal — a love of truth and carelessness 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 of his first essay on evolution.
This letter seems to me full of the intense desire that his
theory should succeed as a contribution to knowledge, and
apart from any desire for personal fame. He certainly had
the healthy desire for success which a man of strong feelings
ought to have. But at the time of the publication of the
4 Origin ' it is evident that he was overwhelmingly 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 a feeling of dis-
appointment at what he thought was Mr. Wallace's forestalling
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 ' Recollec-
tions' of Mr. Wallace's self-annihilation.

His feeling about reclamations, including answers to attacks
and all kinds of discussions, was strong. It is simply ex-
pressed in a letter to Falconer (1863), "If I ever felt angry
towards you, for whom I have a sincere friendship, I should
begin to suspect that I was a little mad. I was very sorry
about your reclamation, as I think it is in every case a mistake
and should be left to others. Whether I should so act myself
under provocation is a different question." It was a feeling

ILL-HEALTH. 159

partly dictated by instinctive delicacy, and partly by a strong
sense of the waste of time, energy, and temper thus caused.
He said that he owed his determination not to get into dis-
cussions* to the advice of Lyell, — advice which he trans-
mitted to those among his friends who were given to paper
warfare.

If the character of my father's working life is to be under-
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, I believe, realise the extent of his habitual suf-
fering. In their case the difficulty is heightened by the
fact that, from the days of their earliest recollections, they
saw him in constant ill-health, — and saw him, in spite of it,
full of pleasure in what pleased them. Thus, in later life,
their perception of what he endured had to be disentangled
from the impression produced in childhood by constant
genial kindness under conditions of unrecognised difficulty.
No one indeed, except my mother, knows the full amount oi
suffering he endured, or 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 nothing that
might save him trouble, or prevent him becoming overtired,
or that might alleviate the many discomforts of his ill-
health. I hesitate to speak thus freely of a thing so sacred
as the life-long devotion which prompted all this constant

* He departed from his rule in p. 554), in which case he afterwards

his "Note on the Habits of the regretted that he had not remained

Pampas Woodpecker, Colaptes silent. His replies to criticisms,

campestris" ' Proc. Zool. Soc.,' in the later editions of the ' Origin,'

1870, p. 705 : also in a letter pub- can hardly be classed as infractions

lished in the 'Athenaeum' (1863, of his rule.

I6O REMINISCENCES.

and tender care. But it is, I repeat, a principal feature of
his life, that for nearly forty years he never knew one day of
the health of ordinary men, and that thus his life was one
long struggle against the weariness and strain of sickness.
And this cannot be told without speaking of the one condition
which enabled him to bear the strain and fight out the
struggle to the end.

C 161 )

LETTERS.

THE 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.

VOL. I. M

( 163 )

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 " admissus
est pensionarius minor sub Magistro Shaw" on Oct. 15, 1827.
He did not come into residence till the Lent Term, 1828, so
that, although he passed his examination in due season, 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 24th) ; * he
therefore took rank among the Bachelors of 1832.

He " kept " for a term or two in lodgings, over Bacon the
tobacconist's ; not, however, over the shop in the Market Place,
now so 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.!

What determined the choice of this college for his brother

* " On Tuesday last Charles Dar- floor, on the west side of the middle

win, of Christ's College, was admit- staircase. A medallion (given by

ted B.A." — Cambridge Chronicle, my brother) has recently been let

Friday, April 29, 1831. into the wall of the sitting-room.

t The rooms are on the first

VOL. I. N

164 CAMBRIDGE. /KTAT. 19-22.

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
connected with Shrewsbury School. But the life of an under-
graduate at St. John's seems, in those days, to have been a
troubled one, if I may judge from the fact that a relative
of mine migrated thence to Christ's to escape the harassing
discipline of the place. A story told by Mr. Herbert * illus-
trates the same state of things : —

" In the beginning of the October Term of 1830, an incident
occurred which was attended with somewhat disagreeable,
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 in statu pupillari 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 been
reported for coming late into College, now, when I was 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 perfect ferment
among my friends, but was the subject of expostulation from
some of the leading members of the University."

My father seems to have found no difficulty in living at
* See footnote, p. 49.

CHRIST'S COLLEGE. 165

peace with all men in and out of office at Lady Margaret's
other foundation. The impression of a 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 they
were by no means discouraged by the Senior Tutor, Mr.
Shaw, who was himself 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-
sioners, and this would indicate that it was not an unpleasant
college for men with money to spend and with no great love
of strict 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.

It is curious that my father often spoke of his Cambridge
life as 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. It is true that he valued
at its highest the advantages which he gained from associat-
ing with Professor Henslow and some others, but he seemed
to consider this as a chance outcome of his life at Cambridge,
not 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

N 2

166 CAMBRIDGE. /1-TAT. Ip-22.

his contemporaries. Mr. Herbert writes : " I think it was in
the spring of 1828 that I first met Darwin, either at my
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
into intimacy, when we happened to be together at Barmouth,
for the Long Vacation, reading with private tutors, — he with
Butterton of St. John's, his Classical and Mathematical Tutor,
and I with Yate of St. John's."

The intercourse between them practically ceased in 1831,
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 I was much struck by the
evident warmth and freshness of the affection with which he
remembered my father. The notes from which I quote end with
this warm-hearted eulogium : " It would be idle for me to speak
of his vast intellectual powers . . . but I cannot end this cur-
sory and rambling sketch without testifying, and I doubt not
all his surviving college friends would concur with me, that
he was the most genial, warm-hearted, generous, and affec-
tionate of friends ; that his sympathies were with all that was
good and true ; and that he had a cordial hatred for every-
thing false, or vile, or cruel, or mean, or dishonourable. He
was not only great, but pre-eminently good, and just, and
loveable."

Two anecdotes told by Mr. Herbert show that my father's
feeling for suffering, whether of man or beast, was as strong
in him as a 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 before, he picked up a bird not quite dead,
but lingering from a shot it had received on the pre-

MR. HERBERT'S RECOLLECTIONS. 167

vious 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 cruel suffering."

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 his
gun. Or think of such a sentence as, " Upon my soul, it is
only about a fortnight to the ' First,' then if there is a bliss
on earth that is it." f

Another anecdote told by Mr. Herbert illustrates again his
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
licked.'"

It is curious that the same feeling recurred to my father
more than fifty years afterwards, on seeing some perform-
ing 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 upon, and groan over, the horrors of the slave
trade, or the cruelties to which the suffering Poles were sub-
jected to at Warsaw. . . . These, and other like proofs have
left on my mind the conviction that a more humane or
tender-hearted man never lived."

* ' Recollections,' p. 34.

f Letter from C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

163 CAMBRIDGE. -1-TAT. IQ-22.

His old college friends agree in speaking with affectionate
warmth of his pleasant, genial temper as a young man. From
what they have been able to tell me, I gain the impression of
a young man overflowing with animal spirits — leading a varied
healthy life — not over-industrious in the set studies of the
place, but full of other pursuits, which were followed with
a rejoicing enthusiasm. Entomology, riding, shooting in
the fens, suppers and card-playing, music at King's Chapel,
engravings at the Fitzwilliam Museum, walks with Professor
Henslow — all combined to fill up a happy life. He seems to
have infected others with his enthusiasm. Mr. Herbert relates
how, during the same Barmouth summer, he was pressed into
the service of "the science" — as my father called collecting
beetles. They took their daily walks together among the
hills behind Barmouth, or boated in the Mawddach estuary,
or sailed to Sarn Badrig to land there at low water, or went
fly-fishing in the Cors-y-gedol lakes. "On these occasions
Darwin cntomologised 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
I had to drop any beetle which struck me as not of a common
kind. I performed this duty with some diligence in my
constitutional walks ; but alas ! my powers of discrimination
seldom enabled me to secure a prize — the usual result, on his
examining the contents of my bottle, being an exclamation,
4 Well, old Chcrbury ' * (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
reading-party 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
* No doubt in allusion to the title of Lord Herbert of Cherbury.

FRIENDS. 169

between Cambridge and Grantchester, and speaks of a certain
beetle the remembrance of whose name is " 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 : " I do not forget the long and very interesting conversa-
tions that we had about Brazilian scenery and tropical
vegetation of all sorts. Nor do I forget the way and the
vehemence with which he rubbed his chin when he got ex-
cited on such subjects, and discoursed eloquently of lianas,
orchids, &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 parties — he was ever one of the most cheerful,
the most popular, and the most welcome."

My father formed one of a club for dining once a week,
called the Gourmet f Club, the members, besides himself and
Mr. Herbert (from whom I quote), being Whitley of St. John's,
now Honorary Canon of Durham ; J 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 § (afterwards Sherbrooke) of Trinity
Hall ; and F. 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
a long Greek name signifying ' fond of dainties,' but who
falsified their claim to such a designation by their weekly
practice of dining at some roadside inn, six miles from

* PanagcEiis crux-major. % Formerly Reader in Natural

t Mr. Herbert mentions the Philosophy at Durham University,
.name as ' The Glutton Club.' § Brother of Lord Sherbrooke.

170 CAMBRIDGE. /liTAT. ICj-22.

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 zeal
broke down over an old brown owl, " which was indescrib-
able." At any rate, the meetings seemed to have been
successful, and to have ended with " a game of mild vingt-
et-un."

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 symphony
or overture of Mozart's or Beethoven's, with their full har-
monies." On one occasion Herbert remembers " accompany-
ing 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, he turned round to me and
said, with a deep sigh, ' How's your backbone ?" He often
spoke of a feeling of coldness or shivering in his back on
hearing beautiful music.

Besides a love of music, he had certainly at this time
a love of fine literature ; and Mr. Cameron tells me that
he used to read Shakespeare to my father in his rooms at
Christ's, who took much pleasure in it. He also speaks of
his " great liking for first-class line engravings, especially
those of Raphael Morghen and Miiller ; and he spent hours
in the Fitzwilliam Museum in looking over the prints in that
collection."

My father's letters to Fox show how sorely oppressed he
felt by the reading for an examination : " I 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-

W. D. FOX. I/I

matics ; and if you arc, God help you, tor so am I, only with
this difference, I stick fast in the mud at the bottom, and
there I shall remain." Mr. Herbert says : " He had, I imagine,
no natural turn for mathematics, and he gave up his mathe-
matical reading before he had mastered the first part of
algebra, having had a special quarrel with Surds and the
Binomial Theorem."

We get some evidence from my father's letters to Fox of his
intention of going into the Church. " I am glad," he writes,*
" to hear that you are reading divinity. I should like to know
what books you are reading, and your opinions about them ;
you need not be afraid of preaching to me prematurely."
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 are inwardly moved by the Holy
Spirit, &c.,' whether I could answer in the affirmative, and on
my saying I could not, he said, ' Neither can I, and therefore
I cannot take orders.' " This conversation appears to have
taken place in 1829, and if so, the doubts here expressed
must have been quieted, 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

cousin
— 3— V 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-
tance, large families, and ill-health on both sides, checked the

* March 18, 1829.

172 i "A Mil RIDGE. ^TAT. I £-22. [1828.

intercourse ; but a warm feeling of friendship remained. The
correspondence was never quite dropped and continued till
Mr. Fox's death in 1880. Mr. Fox took orders, and worked
as a country clergyman until forced by ill-health to leave
his living in Delamcre Forest. His love of natural history
remained strong, and he became a skilled fancier of many
kinds of birds, &c. The index to ' Animals and Plants,' and
my father's later correspondence, show how much help he
received from his old College friend.]

C. Darwin to J. M. Herbert.

Saturday Evening

[September 14, 1828].*

MY DEAR OLD CHERBURY,

I am about to fulfil my promise of writing to you,
but I am sorry to add there is a very selfish motive at the
bottom. I am going to ask you a great favour, and you
cannot imagine how much you will oblige me by procuring
some more specimens of some insects which I dare say I 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 : I think I shall write and inform some of the crack
entomologists.

But now for business. Several more specimens, if you
can 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 very
common on the hill-sides ; also, if you -would be so very kind
as to cross the ferry, and you will find a great number under

* The postmark being Derby f The top of the hill immediately
seems to show that the letter was behind Barmouth was called Craig-
written from his cousin, W. D. Storm, a hybrid Cambro-English
Fox's house, Osmaston, near word.
Derby.

1 828.] BEETLE COLLECTING. 173

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 sea-weed, stones, &c., you
will find a 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-coloured
is that which I want. These last two insects are excessively
rare, and you will really extremely oblige me by taking all
this trouble pretty soon. Remember me most kindly to
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. I think 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
long account of all your proceedings.

In the first week I killed seventy-five head of game — a
very contemptible number — but there are very few birds. I
killed, however, a 'brace of black game. Since 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. I want to
hear how Yates likes his gun, and what use he has made of it.

If the bottle is not large 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 I shall be
to see you again. Fox remarked what deuced good-natured
fellows your friends at Barmouth must be ; and if I did not
Tcnow that you and Butler were so, I would not think of giving
you so much trouble.

Believe me, my dear Herbert,
Yours, most sincerely,

CHARLES DARWIN.

Remember me to all friends.

174 CAMBRIDGE. /KTAT. 19-22. [1829.

[In the following January we find him looking forward with
pleasure to the beginning of another year of his Cambridge
life : he writes to Fox —

" I waited till to-day for the chance of a letter, but
I will wait no longer. I must most sincerely and cordially
congratulate you on having finished all your labours. I think
your place a very good 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
miserj-), to join in all the glory and happiness, which dangers
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. Danuin to W. D. Fox.

Cambridge, Thursday [February 26, 1829].
MY DEAR 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. I suppose you have
been abusing me for a most ungrateful wretch ; but I am sure
you will pity me now, as nothing is so vexatious as having
written a letter in vain.

Last Thursday I left Shrewsbury for London, and stayed
there till Tuesday, on which I came down here by the ' Times.'
The first two days I spent entirely with Mr. Hope,* and did
little 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
* Founder of the Chair of Zoology at Oxford.

1829.] BEETLE COLLECTING. 175

actually often wanted to give me the rarest insects of which
he had only two specimens. He made many civil speeches,
and hoped you will call on him some time with me, whenever
we should happen to be in London. He greatly compliments
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 ride in the
Park with.

On Monday evening I drank tea with Stephens ; * his
cabinet is more magnificent 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
Institution, Linnean Society, and Zoological Gardens, and
many other places where naturalists are gregarious. If you
had 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 I 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 ot
which Shaw has for sale ; would you like to purchase a
specimen? I have not yet thanked you for your last very
long 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. DARWIN.

* J. F. Stephens, author of 'A Manual of British Coleoptera,' 1839,
and other works.

176 CAMBRIDGE. >ETAT. IQ-22. [1829.

[Later on in the Lent term he writes to Fox : —
" I am leading a quiet everyday sort of a life ; a little of
Gibbon's History in the morning, and a good deal of Van
John in the evening ; this, with an occasional ride with Simcox
and constitutional with Whitley, makes up the regular routine
of my days. I see a good deal both of Herbert and Whitley,
and the more I see of them increases every day the respect
I have for their excellent understandings and dispositions.
They have been giving some very gay parties, nearly sixty
men there both evenings."]

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Christ's College [Cambridge], April I [1829].
MY DEAR 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, ex-
cepting that I must give you all due credit for acting on it
most rigidly. And now I should like to know in what one
particular are you less of a blackguard than I am ? You idle
old wretch, why have you not answered my last letter, which
I am sure I 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 is finished. If you did but know how
often I think of you, and how often I regret your absence,
I am sure I should have heard from you long enough ago.

I find Cambridge rather stupid, and as I know scarcely any
one that walks, and this joined with my lips not being quite
so well, has reduced me to a sort of hybernation. ... I have

1829.] CAMBRIDGE. 177

caught Mr. Harbour letting have the first pick of the

beetles ; accordingly we have made our final adieus, 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 he appeared in my rooms again. It seemed altogether
mightily to surprise the young gentleman. I have 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 see it. We set out at half-past nine, and rode
like incarnate devils there, and did not return till two in the
morning. Altogether it was a most awful sight. I cannot
conclude without telling you, that of all the blackguards
I ever met with, you are the greatest and the best.

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

[Cambridge, Thursday, April 23, 1829.]
MY DEAR FOX,

I have delayed answering your last letter for these
few days, as I thought that under such melancholy circum-
stances my writing to you would be probably only giving you
trouble. This morning I received a letter from Catherine
informing me of that event,* which, indeed, from your letter,
I had hardly dared to hope would have happened otherwise.
I feel most sincerely and deeply for you and all your family ;
but at the same time, as far as any one can, by his own good
principles and religion, be supported under such a 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,
I am equally assured how useless the sympathy of all friends
* The death of Fox's sister, Mrs. Bristovve.

178 CAMBRIDGE. /ETAT. IQ-22. [1829.

must appear, although it be as heartfelt and sincere, as I hope
you believe me capable of feeling. At such a time of deep
distress I will say nothing more, excepting that I trust your
father and Mrs. Fox bear this blow as well as, under such
circumstances, can be hoped for.

I am afraid it will be a long time, my dear Fox, before
we meet ; till then, believe me at all times,

Yours most affectionately,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Shrewsbury, Friday [July 4, 1829].

MY DEAR Fox,

I should have written to you before only that whilst
our expedition lasted I was too much engaged, and the con-
clusion was so unfortunate, that I was too unhappy to write
to you till this week's quiet at home. The thoughts of
Woodhousc next week has at last given me courage to relate
my unfortunate case.

I started from this place about a fortnight ago to take an
entomological trip with Mr. Hope through all 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 week my lips became suddenly so bad,* and I
myself not very well, that I was unable to leave the room,
and on the Monday I retreated with grief and sorrow back
again to Shrewsbury. The first two days I took some good
insects. . . . But the days that I was unable to go out, Mr.
Hope did wonders .... and to-day I have received another
parcel of insects from him, such Colymbetes, such Carabi, and
such magnificent Elaters (two species of the bright scarlet
sort). I am sure you will properly sympathise with my
unfortunate situation : I am determined I will go over the
* Probably with eczema, from which he often suffered.

1829.] BEETLE COLLECTING. 179

same ground that he does before autumn comes, and if working

hard will procure insects I will bring home a glorious stock.

*****

My dear Fox,

Yours most sincerely,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C, Darwin to W. D, Fox,

Shrewsbury, July 18, 1829.

I am going to Maer next week in order to entomologise,
and shall stay there a week, and for the rest of this summer
1 intend to lead a perfectly idle and wandering life. . . .
You see I am much in the same state that you are, with this
difference, you make good resolutions and never keep them ;
I never make them, so 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
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 I 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 W. D. Fox,

Christ's College, Thursday [October 16, 1829].
MY DEAR FOX,

I am afraid you will be very angry with me for not
having written during the Music Meeting, but really I was
VOL. I. O

ISO CAMBRIDGE. ,ETAT. Ip-22. [1830.

worked so hard that I had no time ; I 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 *
the most glorious thing I ever experienced ; and as for
Malibran, words cannot praise her enough, she is quite the
most charming person I ever saw. We had extracts out of
several of the best operas, acted in character, and you cannot
imagine how very superior it made the concerts to any I ever
heard before. J. de Begnis f acted ' II Fanatico ' in character ;
being dressed up an extraordinary figure gives a much greater
effect to his acting. He kept the whole theatre in roars of
laughter. I liked Madame Blasis very much, but nothing
will do after Malibran, who sung some comic songs, and [a]
person's heart must have been made of stone not to have lost
it to her. I lodged very near the Wedgwoods, and lived
entirely with them, which was very pleasant, and had you
been there it would have been quite perfect. It knocked me
up most dreadfully, and I will never attempt again to do
two things the same day.

C, Darwin to W. D. Fox.

[Cambridge] Thursday [March, 1830].
MY DEAR FOX,

I am through my Little-Go ! ! ! 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 could write the whole sheet
full with this delightful word. I went in yesterday, and have

* At Birmingham. f De Begnis's Christian name was Giuseppe.

1830.] "LITTLE-GO." l8l

just heard the joyful news. I shall not know for a week
which class I am 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 a wonderful
number of questions.

And now I want to know something about your plans ;
of course 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
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
little affair it is.

And now for the time — I think I 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 will
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
ordained, and drove the Coach out on the Monday. I do not
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. I long to
see you again, and till then,

My dear good old Fox,

Yours most sincerely,

C. DARWIN.

[In August he was in North Wales and wrote to Fox : —
" I have been intending to write every hour for the last
fortnight, but really have had no time. I left Shrewsbury
this day fortnight ago, and have since that time been

O 2

182 CAMBRIDGE. /ETAT. 19-22. [1830.

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 I go fishing, on the good ones entomolo-
gising. You may recollect that for the fortnight previous
to all this, you told me not to write, so that I hope I have
made out some sort of defence for not having sooner answered
your two long and very agreeable letters."]

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

[Cambridge, November 5, 1830.]
MY DEAR FOX,

I have so little time at present, and am so disgusted
by reading that I have not the heart to write to anybody. I
have only written once home since I came up. This must
excuse me for not having answered your three letters, for
which I am really very much obliged. . . .

I have not stuck an insect this term, and scarcely opened
a case. If I had time I would have sent you the insects which
I have so long promised ; but really I have not spirits or time
to do anything. Reading makes me quite desperate ; the
plague of getting up all my subjects is next thing to intolerable.
Henslow is my tutor, and a most admirable one he makes ;
the hour with him is the pleasantest in the whole day. I think
he is quite the most perfect man I ever met with. I have been
to some very pleasant parties there this term. His good-
nature is unbounded.

I am sure you will be sorry to hear poor old Whitley's
father is dead. In a worldly point of view it is of great
consequence 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 to pay the whole of the Cambridge man's bill.
You need not trouble yourself about the Phallus, as I have
bought up both species. I have heard men say that Henslow

1831.] DEGREE. 183

has some curious religious opinions. I never perceived any-
thing 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 commandments 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,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. DariL'in to W. D. Fox.

Cambridge, Sunday, January 23, 1831.
MY DEAR FOX,

I do hope you will excuse my not writing before I
took my degree. I 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 comfortable. If it is my last shilling (I 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 ;
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-
paper yesterday, in which you will see what a good place [loth]
I 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

* The " Captain " is at the head the last twelve in the Mathematical
of the " Poll " : the " Apostles " are Tripos.

1 84 CAMBRIDGE. jETAT. ig-22.

gulfed, together with other three Trinity scholars ! My plans
are not at all settled. I think I shall keep this term, and
then go and economise 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 ; so you must excuse
[me]. And on the same principle do you write a letter
brimful 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
I must suffer. Your tutor, Thompson, begged to be remem-
bered to you, and so does Whitley. If you will answer this, I
will send as many stupid answers as you can desire.

Believe me, dear Fox,

CHAS. DARWIN.

CHAPTER V.

THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.'

[IN 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 — my second life will then com-
mence, and it shall be as a birthday for the rest of my life."

The circumstances which led to this second birth — so much
more important than my father then imagined — are connected
with his Cambridge life, but may be more appropriately told
in the present chapter. Foremost in the chain of circum-
stances which led to his appointment to the Beagle, was my
father's friendship with Professor Henslow. He wrote in a
pocket-book or diary, which contains a brief record of dates, &c.,
throughout his life : —

" 1831. Christmas. — Passed my examination for B.A. degree
and kept the two following terms.

" During these months lived much with Professor Henslow,
often dining with him and walking with him ; became slightly
acquainted with several of the learned men in Cambridge,
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 Tenerifife. In the
spring Henslow persuaded me to think of Geology, and intro-
duced me to Sedgwick. During Midsummer geologized a
little in Shropshire.

The Beagle did not however make her final and successful start until
December 27.

1 86 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' jETAT. 22.

"August. — Went on Geological tour* by Llangollen,
Ruthin, Conway, Bangor, and Capel Curig, where I left
Professor Scdgwick, and crossed the mountain to Barmouth."

In a letter to Fox (May 1831), my father writes : — " I am
very busy . . . and see a great deal of Henslow, whom I do
not know whether I love or respect most." His feeling for this
admirable man is finely expressed in a letter which he wrote
to Rev. L. Blomefield (then Rev. L. Jenyns), when the latter
was engaged in his ' Memoir of Professor Henslow ' (published
1862). The passage f 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 " : —

" I went to Cambridge early in the year 1828, 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 know-
ledge. Before I saw him, I heard one young man sum up his
attainments by simply saying that he knew everything. When
I reflect how immediately we felt at perfect ease \vith a man
older, and in every way so immensely our superior, I think it
was as much owing to the transparent sincerity of his cha-
racter as to his kindness of heart ; and, perhaps, even still
more, to a highly remarkable absence in him of all self-con-
sciousness. One perceived at once that he never thought of

* Mentioned by Sedgwick in his f ' Memoir of the Rev. John

preface to Sailer's ' Catalogue of Stevens Henslow, M.A.,' by the

Cambrian and Silurian Fossils,' Rev. Leonard Jenyns. 8vo. Lon-

1873. don, 1862, p. 51.

HENSLOW.

his own varied knowledge or clear intellect, but solely on the
subject in hand. Another charm, which must have struck
every one, 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 however absurd a blunder one
might make, he pointed it out so clearly and kindly, that one
left 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 pleasant manner, as the Scientific
Societies do in London. At these parties many of the most
distinguished members of the University occasionally attended ;
and when only a few were present, I have listened to the
great men of those days, conversing on all sorts of subjects,
with the most varied and brilliant powers. This was no small
advantage to some of the younger men, as it stimulated 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 in a 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 spirits as a boy, and laughed as
leartily as a boy at the misadventures of those who chased
pe splendid swallow-tail butterflies across the broken and

1 88 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' /ETAT. 22.

treacherous fens. He used to pause every now and then and
lecture on some plant or other object ; 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 excur-
sions will agree with me that they have left an enduring
impression of delight on our minds.

"As time passed on at Cambridge I became very intimate
with Professor Henslow, and his kindness was unbounded ;
he continually asked me to his house, and allowed me to
accompany him in his walks. He talked on all subjects,
including his deep sense of religion, and was entirely open.
I owe more than I can express to this excellent man. . . .

"During the years when I 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
struck 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. When principle came into
play, no power on earth could have turned him one hair's-
breadth. . . .

" Reflecting over his character with gratitude and reverence,
his moral attributes rise, as they should do in the highest
character, in pre-eminence over his intellect."

In a letter to Rev. L. Blomefield (Jenyns), May 24, 1862,
my father wrote with the same feeli.igs that he had expressed
in his letters thirty years before : —

" I thank you most sincerely for your kind present of your
Memoir of Henslow. I have read about half, and it has inte-
rested me much. I did not think that I could have venerated

GEOLOGY. l8p

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, I should think your account would be invaluable
to 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 im-
portance in helping to give him some confidence in himself.
In July of the same year, 1831, 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 : —

" I should have written to you some time ago, only I was
determined to wait for the clinometer, and I am very glad to
say I think it will answer admirably. I put all the tables in
my bedroom at every conceivable angle and direction. I will
venture to say I have measured them as accurately as any
geologist going could do .... I 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 but for 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
tKis Tour.

There too we read of the projected excursion to the

190 THE APPOINTM1.NT TO Till- ' BEAGLK.' .KTAT. 22. [1831.

Canaries, of which slight mention occurs in letters to Fox
and Henslow.

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, Tcneriffe
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 so 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 gran-
disimo lebron," in proof of his knowledge of the language ;
which, however, he found " intensely stupid." But even then
he seems to have had some doubts about his companions'
zeal, for he writes to Henslow (July 27, 1831) : " I hope you
continue to fan your Canary ardour. I read and re-read
Humboldt ; 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
ist 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 : —

"Returned to Shrewsbury at end of August. Refused
offer of voyage.

"September. — Went to Maer, returned with Uncle Jos. to
Shrewsbury, thence to Cambridge. London.

" I \th. — Went with Captain Fitz-Roy in steamer to Plymou vh
to see the Beagle.

1831.] THE OFFER. I$I

" 2.2nd. — Returned to Shrewsbury, passing through Cam-
bridge.

" October 2nd. — Took leave of my home. Stayed in
London.

" 2^tk. — Reached Plymouth.

" October and November. — These months very miserable.

" December loth. — Sailed, but were obliged to put back.

" 2ist. — Put to sea again, and were driven back.

" 2jth. — Sailed from England on our Circumnavigation."]

George Peacock * to J. S. Henslow.

7 Suffolk Street, Pall Mall East [1831].

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

Captain Fitz-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 Archipelago.
The vessel is fitted out expressly for scientific purposes, com-
bined with the survey ; it will furnish, therefore, a rare oppor-
tunity for a naturalist, and it would be a great misfortune 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
man 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-

* Formerly Dean of Ely, and Lowndean Professor of Astronomy at
Cambridge.

192 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ^TAT. 22. [1831.

tion. Do think of this subject, it would be a serious loss to

the cause of natural science if this fine opportunity was lost.
* * » • «

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,

GEORGE PEACOCK.

y. S. Hensloiu to C. Darwin.

Cambridge, August 24, 1831.

MY DEAR DARWIN,

Before I enter upon the immediate business of this
letter, let us condole together upon the loss of our inestimable
friend poor Ramsay, of whose death you have undoubtedly
heard long before this.

I will not now dwell upon this painful subject, as I shall
hope to see you shortly, fully expecting that you will eagerly
catch at the offer which is likely to be made you of a trip to
Tierra del Fuego, and home by the East Indies. I have 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 con-
sider you to be the best qualified person I know of who is
likely to undertake such a situation. I state this not in the
supposition of your being a finished 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
mere collector, and would not take any one, however good a

1831.] THE OFFER.

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
never was a finer chance for a man of zeal and spirit ; Captain
Fitz-Roy is a young man. What I wish you to do is instantly
to come and consult with Peacock (at No. 7 Suffolk Street,.
Pall Mall East, 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 are
the very man they are in search of ; so conceive yourself to be
tapped on the shoulder by your bum-bailiff and affectionate

friend,

J. S. HENSLOW.

The expedition is to sail on 2 5th September (at earliest),,
so there is no time to be lost.

G. Peacock to C. Darwin.

[1831.]
MY DEAR SIR,

I received Henslow's letter last night too late to for-
ward it to you by the post ; a circumstance which I do not
regret, as it has 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. I trust that you will accept it, as it is an
opportunity which should not be lost, and I look forward with
great interest to the benefit which our collections of Natural
History may receive from your labours.

The circumstances are these : —

Captain Fitz-Roy (a nephew of the Duke of Grafton) sails
at the end of September, in a ship to survey, in the first

194 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' JETAT. 22. [1831.

instance, 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
scientific 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
Captain Beechey,* and spent £1500 in bringing over and edu-
cating 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
lose no time in making known your acceptance to Captain
Beaufort, Admiralty Hydrographer. I 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. I hope 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 a salary should be required, however, I
am inclined to think that it would be granted.

Believe me, my dear Sir,

Very truly yours,

GEORGE PEACOCK.

* For " Beechey ," read " King." Fuegians were brought back from
I do not find the name Fitz-Roy in Captain King's voyage,
the list of Beechey's officers. The

1831.] THE OFFER REFUSED. 195

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

Shrewsbury, Tuesday [August 30, 1831].
MY DEAR SIR,

Mr. Peacock's letter arrived on Saturday, and I re-
ceived it late yesterday evening. As far as my own mind is
concerned, I should, I think certainly, most gladly have ac-
cepted 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 I should not be
comfortable if I did not follow it.

My father's objections are these : the unfitting me to
settle down as a Clergyman, my little habit of seafaring, the
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. But 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. I have 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,

CH. DARWIN.

I have written to Mr. Peacock, and I mentioned that I
have asked you to send one line in the chance of his not
VOL. I. P

196 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' JET AT. 22. [1831.

getting my letter. I have also asked him to communicate
with Captain Fitz-Roy. Even if I was to go, my father dis-
liking would take away all energy, and I should want a good
stock of that. Again I must thank you, it adds a little to
the heavy but pleasant load of gratitude which I owe to you.

C. Danvin to R. W. Darwin.

[Maer] August 31 [1831].

MY DEAR FATHER,

I am afraid I am going to make you again very
uncomfortable. But, upon consideration, I think you will
excuse me once again, stating my opinions on the offer of the
voyage. My excuse and reason is the different way all
the Wedgwoods view the subject from what you and my
sisters do.

I have given Uncle Jos * what I fervently trust is an
accurate and full list of your objections, and he is kind
enough to give his opinions on all. The list and his answers
will be enclosed. But may I 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 if I did not implicitly yield to your better judg-
ment, and to the kindest indulgence you have shown me all
through my life ; and you may rely upon it I will never
mention the subject 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
great The expense can not be serious, and the time I do
not think, anyhow, would be more thrown away than if I
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.

* Josiah Wedgwood.

1831.] DR. DARWIN'S OBJECTIONS. 197

I must again state I cannot think it would unfit me here-
after for a steady life. I do hope this letter will not give you
much uneasiness. I send it by the car to-morrow morning ;
if you make up your mind directly will you send me an
answer on the following day by the same means? If this
letter should not find you at home, I hope you will answer as
;soon as you conveniently can.

I do not know what to say about Uncle Jos' kindness ; I
never can forget how he interests himself about me.
Believe me, my dear father,

Your affectionate son,

CHARLES DARWIN.

[Here follows the list of objections which are referred to in
the following letter : —

(i.) Disreputable to my character as a Clergyman here-
after.

(2.) A wild scheme.

(3.) That they must have offered to 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 I should never settle down to a steady life here-
after.

(6.) That my accommodations would be most uncomfort-
able.

(7.) That you \i.e. Dr. Darwin] should consider it as again
changing my profession.

(8.) That it would be a useless undertaking.]

P 2

198 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ,ETAT. 22. [1831.

Josiah Wedgivood to R. W. Darwin.

Maer, August 31, 1831.

[Read this last] *

MY DEAR DOCTOR,

I 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 to consult me, I cannot refuse to
give the result of such consideration as I have been able to
[give ?] it

Charles has put down what he conceives to be your prin-
cipal objections, and I think the best course I can take will
be to state what occurs to me upon each of them.

1. I should not think that it would be in any degree dis-
reputable to his character as a Clergyman. I 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 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 see
no ground for it.

4. I cannot conceive that the Admiralty would send out
a bad vessel on such a service. As to objections to the expe-
dition, they will differ in each man's case, and nothing would,
I 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 I can be. If on comparing this mode of spending the
next two years with the way in which he will probably spend

* In C. Darwin's writing.

1831.] JOSIAH WEDGWOOD'S ADVICE. 199

them, if he does not accept this offer, you think him more
likely 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. I can form no opinion on this further than that if
appointed by the Admiralty he will have a claim to be as
well accommodated as the vessel will allow.

7. If I saw Charles now absorbed in professional studies
I should 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.

8. The undertaking would be useless as regards his pro-
fession, but looking upon him as a man of enlarged curiosity,
it affords him such an opportunity of seeing men and things
as happens to few.

You will bear in mind that I have had very little time
for consideration, and that you and Charles are the persons

who must decide.

I am,

My dear Doctor,

Affectionately yours,

JOSIAH WEDGWOOD.

C. Darwin to y. S. Henslow.

Cambridge, Red Lion [Sept. 2], 1831.
MY DEAR SIR,

I am just arrived ; you will guess the reason. My
father has changed his mind. I trust the place is not given
away.

I am very much fatigued, and am going to bed.
I dare say 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. DARWIN.

2OO THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ^ETAT. 22. [1831.

C. Darwin to Miss Susan Darwin.

Cambridge, Sunday Morning [September 4, 1831].

MY DEAR 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
I spent with Henslow, thinking of what is to be done, and
that I find is a great deal. By great good luck I know a man
of the name of Wood, nephew of Lord Londonderry. He is.
a great 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
officers, and most of my men have been there before." It
seems he has been there for the last few years ; he was then
second in command with the same 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 me.

Peacock has sole appointment of Naturalist. The first
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,
accepting 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.

*****

I am 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. I write as if it was
settled, but Henslow tells me by no means to make up
my mind till I have had long conversations with Captains

1831.] CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY. 2OI

Beaufort and Fitz-Roy. Good-bye. You will hear from me
constantly. Direct 17 Spring Gardens. Tell nobody in
Shropshire yet. Be sure not.

C. DARWIN.

I was so tired that evening I was in Shrewsbury that
I thanked none of you for your kindness half so much as
I felt.

Love to my father.

The reason I don't want people told in Shropshire : in
case I should not go, it will make it more flat.

C. Darwin to Miss S. Darwin.

17 Spring Gardens, Monday

[September 5, 1831].

I have so little time to spare that I have none to waste in
re-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. In [the] middle of [the] day, Wood
received a letter from Captain Fitz-Roy, which I must say
was most straightforward and gentlemanlike, but so much
against my going, that I immediately gave up the scheme ;
and Henslow did the same, saying that he thought Peacock
has acted very ~<.vrong in misrepresenting things so much.

I scarcely thought of going to town, but here I am ; and
now for more details, and much more promising ones.
Captain 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 I am certain,
nothing could be more open and kind than he was to me. 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, as want of room was one of Fitz-Roy's greatest
objections. He offers me to go share in everything in his

202 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAiil.i:.' .KTAT. 22. [1831.

cabin if I like to come, and every sort of accommodation that
I can have, but they will not be numerous. He says nothing
would be so miserable for him as having me with him if
I was uncomfortable, as in a 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 go on Sunday to
Plymouth to sec the vessel.

There is something most extremely attractive in his
manners and way of coming straight to the point. If I live
with him, he says I 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 loth of October. It contains sixty men,
five or six officers, &c., but is a small vessel. It will probably
be out nearly three years. I shall pay to mess the same as
[the] Captain does himself, .£30 per annum ; and Fitz-Roy
says if I spend, including my outfitting, .£500, it will be
beyond the extreme. But now for still worse news. The
round the world is not certain, but the chance most excellent.
Till that point is decided, I will not be so. And you may
believe, after the many changes I have made, that nothing
but my reason shall decide me.

Fitz-Roy says the stormy sea is exaggerated ; that if I do
not choose to remain with them, I can at any time get home
to England, so many vessels sail that way, and that during
bad weather (probably two months), if I like, I shall be left
in some healthy, safe and nice country ; that I shall always
have assistance ; that he has many books, all instruments,
guns, at my service ; that the fewer and cheaper clothes
I take the better. The manner of proceeding will just suit
me. They anchor the ship, and then remain for a fortnight
at a place. I have made Captain Beaufort perfectly under-
stand me. He says if I start and do not go round the world,

1831.] CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY. 2O3

I 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 [as]
comfortable as he possibly can. I like his manner of pro-
ceeding. He asked me at once, " Shall you bear being told
that I want the cabin to myself — when I want to be alone ?
If we treat each other this way, I 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 cities in South America. Captain Beaufort is
drawing up the track through the South Sea. I am writing
in [a] great hurry ; I do not know whether you take interest
enough to excuse treble postage. I hope I am judging
reasonably, and not through prejudice, about Captain Fitz-
Roy ; if so, I am sure we shall suit. I dine with him to-day.
I could write [a] great deal more if I thought you liked it, and
I had 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.

CH. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

London, Monday [Septembers, 1831].
MY DEAR SIR,

Gloria in excelsis is the most moderate beginning I
can think of. Things are more prosperous than I should
have thought possible. Captain Fitz-Roy is everything that is
delightful. If I was to praise half so much as I feel inclined,
you would say it was absurd, only once seeing him. I think
he really wishes to have me. He offers me to mess with
him, and he will take care I have such room as is possible
But about the cases he says I must limit myself ; but then he

204 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ^ETAT. 22. [1831.

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 loth of October. Spends a week at
Madeira Islands ; and then Rio de Janeiro. They all think
most extremely probable, home by the Indian archipelago ;
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 I shall have his place in every respect.

Captain Fitz-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. I am in lodgings at
17 Spring Gardens. 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 I have had. Till one to-day I was building
castles in the air about hunting foxes in Shropshire, now
llamas in South America.

There is indeed a tide in the affairs of men. If you see
Mr. Wood, remember me very kindly to him.
Good-bye.

My dear Henslow,

Your most sincere friend,

CHAS. DARWIN.

Excuse this letter in such a hurry.

1831.] W. D. FOX. 205

C. 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
in so interpreting your letter. I lost a friend the other day,
and I doubt whether the moral death (as 1 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 I will mention just one thing — that on my death-bed, I
think I could say I never uttered one insincere (which at
the time I did not fully feel) expression about my regard for
you. One thing more — the sending immediately the insects,
on my honour, was an unfortunate coincidence. I forgot how
you naturally would take them. When you look 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
like departed spirits in judgment against me. May we have
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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

I have left your letter behind, so do not know whether I
direct right.

* He had misunderstood a letter of Fox's as implying a charge of
falsehood.

206 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' yliTAT. 22. [1831.

C. Darwin to Miss Susan Danvin.

17 Spring Gardens, Tuesday.

[September 6, 1831.]

MY DEAR SUSAN,

Again I am going to trouble you. I suspect, if I
keep on at this rate, you will sincerely wish me at Tierra del
Fuego, or any other Terra, but England. First I 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, my
Spanish books, my new microscope (about six inches long and
three or four deep), which must have cotton stuffed inside ;
my geological compass ; my father knows that ; a little book,
if I 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 same 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 to receive an answer before I
start, as I should like 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 Fitz-Roy wishing me so
much to go, and, from his kindness, I feel a predestination I
shall start. I spent a very pleasant evening with him yester-
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 — viz., fire-arms. He recommends me strongly to get a

1831.] PREPARATIONS. 2O/

case of pistols like his, which cost £60 ! ! and never to go on
shore anywhere without loaded ones, and he is doubting about
a rifle ; he says I cannot appreciate the luxury of fresh meat
here. Of course I shall buy nothing till everything is settled ;
but I work all day long at my lists, putting in and striking
out articles. This is the first really cheerful day I have spent
since I received the letter, and it all is owing to the sort of
involuntary confidence I place in my beau ideal 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 tells me to
get it down in writing at the Admiralty that I have the free
choice to leave as soon and whenever I like. I dare say you
expect I shall turn back at the Madeira ; if I have a morsel of
stomach left, I won't give up. Excuse my so often troubling
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, 1831.

MY DEAR SUSAN,

I have just received the parcel. I suppose it was not
delivered yesterday owing to the Coronation. I 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 in statu quo. Captain Beaufort says I am
on the books for victuals, and he thinks I shall have no
difficulty about my collections when I come home. But he is

2O8 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE ' BEAGLE.' JETAT. 22. [1831.

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 I
have no doubt we should go there whether or no it is put in
the instructions. Captain Fitz-Roy says I do good by plaguing
Captain Beaufort, it stirs him up with a long pole. Captain
Fitz-Roy says he is sure he has interest enough (particularly
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 pre-
sume the Dukes of Grafton and Richmond interest themselves
about him. By the way, Wood has been of the greatest use
to me ; and I 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 somebody 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 a sea-
captain is the greatest brute on the face of the creation. I do
not know how to help you in this case, except by hoping you
will give me a trial." How one does change ! I actually now
wish the voyage was longer before we touch land. I feel
my blood run cold at the quantity I have to do. Everybody
seems ready to assist me. The Zoological want to make me
a corresponding member. All this I can construe without
crossing the Equator. But one friend is quite invaluable, viz.
a Mr. Yarrell, a stationer, and excellent naturalist* He goes

* William Yarrcll, well known for born in 1784. He inherited from
his 'History of British Birds' and his father a newsagent's business,
* History of British Fishes,' was to which he steadily adhered up to

1831.] THE SHOPS SHUT. 2OQ

to the shops with me and bullies about prices (not that I yet
buy) : hang me if I give ,£60 for pistols.

Yesterday all the shops were shut, so that I could do
nothing; and I was child enough to give £i is. for an excel-
lent 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 sees in picture-books of Eastern processions.
The King looked very well, and seemed popular, but there
was very little enthusiasm ; so little that I can hardly think
there will be a coronation this time fifty years.

The Life Guards pleased me as much as anything — they
are 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 them. Whenever a crowd was so dense that the
people were forced off the causeway, one of these six-feet
gentlemen, on a black horse, rode straight at the place,
making 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 I will venture to say not
going one mile an hour. The Duke of Northumberland learnt
a lesson last time, for his house was very grand ; much more
so than the other great nobility, and in much better taste ;
every 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,

his death, " in his 73rd year." He a valued office-bearer of several of

was a man of a thoroughly amiable the learned Societies.

and honourable character, and was * The Coronation of William IV.

210 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ^TAT. 22. [1831.

crowns, anchors, and " \V. R.'s " were repeated in endless
succession. The prettiest were gas-pipes with small holes ;
they were almost painfully brilliant. I have written so
much about the Coronation, that I think you will have no
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. I
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 Fitz-Roy being a good officer — all the officers
arc the same as before ; two-thirds of his crew and [the] eight
marines who went before all offered to come again, so the
service cannot be so very bad. The Admiralty have just
issued orders for a large stock of canister-meat and lemon-
juice, &c. &c. I 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 unto-
ward accident should happen ; this I can see no reason to
expect I feel 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 excellent rifle for .£50, •
there is a saving ; a good telescope, with compass, £5, and
these are nearly the only expensive instruments I shall want.
Captain Fitz-Roy has everything. I never saw so (what I
should call, he says not) extravagant a man, as regards him-
self, but as economical towards me. How he did order
things ! His fire-arms will cost .£400 at least. I found the
carpet bag when I arrived all right, and much obliged. I do
not think I shall take any arsenic ; shall send partridges to
Mr. Yarrell ; much obliged. Ask Edward to bargain with
Clemson to make for my gun — two spare hammers or cocks,

1831.] VISIT TO PLYMOUTH. 211

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 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, Shrewsbury, London, Ply-
mouth, Madeira, is my route. It is a great bore my writing
so much about the Coronation ; I could fill another sheet.
I have just been with Captain King, Fitz-Roy's senior officer
last expedition ; he thinks that the expedition will suit me.
Unasked, he said Fitz-Roy's temper was perfect. He sends
his own son with him as midshipman. The key of my
microscope was forgotten ; it is of no consequence. Love

to all.

CHAS. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

17 Spring Gardens (and here I shall remain till I start)

[September 19, 1831].
MY DEAR FOX,

I returned from my expedition to see the Beagle at
Plymouth on Saturday, and found your most welcome lette;
on my table. It is quite ridiculous what a very long period
these last 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.

*****

But 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

VOL. I. Q

212 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE ' BEAGLE.' /ETAT. 22. [1831.

there being a pleasant set of officers, and, as far as I can
judge, 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 I dearly love, is often-
times a feeling so painful that it requires all my resolution to
overcome it. But everything is now settled, and before the
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 own body and all my cases, &c. &c. As to its
safety, I hope the Admiralty are the best judges ; to a lands-
man's eye she looks very small. She is a ten-gun three-
masted brig, but, I 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 9th.

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
coming 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, I can hardly think it worth your while to leave 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 moments of glorious enthusiasm, when I think of the
date and cocoa-trees, the palms and ferns so lofty and beauti-
ful, everything new, everything sublime. And if I live to see
years in after life, how grand must such recollections be ! Do

2831.] BAROMETERS. 213

you know Humboldt ? (if you don't, do so "directly.) With
what intense pleasure he appears always to look back on the
days spent in the tropical countries. I hope when you next
write to Osmaston, [you will] tell them my scheme, and give
them my kindest regards and farewells.

Good-bye, my dear Fox

Yours ever sincerely,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to R. Fits-Roy.

17 Spring Gardens [October 17 ? 1831].

DEAR FITZ-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 I never should have
thought of sending things by some other vessel. This letter
will, I trust, accompany some talc. I read your letter without
attending to the name. But I have now procured some from
Jones, which appears very good, and I will send it this evening
by the mail. You will be surprised at not seeing me proprid
persond instead of my handwriting. But I had just found
out that the large steam-packet did not intend to sail on
Sunday, and I was picturing to myself a small, dirty cabin,
with the proportion of 39-4Oths of the passengers very sick,
when Mr. Earl came in and told me the Beagle would not sail
till the beginning of November. This, of course, settled the
point ; so that I remain in London one week more. I shall
then send heavy goods by steamer and start myself by the
•coach 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
to the list. I ought to be ashamed to trouble you so much,

Q 2

214 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' /ETAT. 22. [1831.

but will you send one line to inform me? I am daily be-
coming more anxious to be off, and, if I am so, you must be
in a perfect fever. What a glorious day the 4th of November
will be to me ! My second life will then commence, and it
shall be as a birthday for the rest of my life.

Believe me, dear Fitz-Roy,

Yours most sincerely,

CIIAS. DARWIN.

Monday. — I hope I have not put you to much incon-
venience by ordering the room in readiness.

C. Danvin to J. S. Hensloiv.

Devonport, November 15, 1831.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

The orders are come down from the Admiralty, and
everything 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 accommoda-
tions. The instructions are very general, and leave a great
deal to the Captain's discretion and judgment, paying a sub-
stantial as well as a verbal compliment to him.

* * • • *

No vessel ever left England with such a set of Chrono-
meters, 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 natural
history that has ever occurred. The absolute want of room is
an evil that nothing can surmount. I think L. Jenyns did

1831.] DEVONPORT. 215

very wisely in not coming, that is judging from my own
feelings, for I am sure if I had left college some few years, or
been those years older, I never could have endured it. The
officers (excepting the Captain) are like the freshest fresh-
men, that is in their manners, in everything else widely dif-
ferent. 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 him.

I am much obliged for your advice, de MatJiematicis. I
suspect when I am struggling with a triangle, I shall often
wish myself in your room, and as for those wicked sulky surds,
I do not know what I shall do without you to conjure them.
My time passes away very pleasantly. I know one or two
pleasant people, foremost of whom is Mr. Thunder-and-light-
ning Harris,* whom I dare say you have heard of. My chief
employment is to go on board the Beagle, and try to look as
much like a sailor as I can. I have no evidence of having
taken in man, woman or child.

I am going to ask you to do one more commission, and I
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 father has paid the
bill, and I want to have the furniture-money transmitted to
my father. Perhaps you would be kind enough to speak to
Mr. Ash. I have cost my father so much money, I am quite
ashamed of myself.

I will 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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

* William Snow Harris, the Electrician.

216 THE APPOINTMENT TO THE 'BEAGLE.' ^TAT. 22. [1831,

C. Darwin to J. S. Hcnslaw.

Devonport, December 3, 1831.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

It is now late in the evening, and to-night I am going
to sleep on board. On Monday we most certainly sail, so
you may guess in what a desperate state of confusion we are
all in. If you were to hear the various exclamations of the
officers, you would suppose we had scarcely had a week's
notice. I am just in the same way taken all aback, and in
such a bustle I hardly know what to do. The number of things
to be done is infinite. I look forward even to sea-sickness
\vith something like satisfaction, anything must be better than
this state of anxiety. I am very much obliged for your last
kind and affectionate letter. I always like advice from you,,
and no one whom I have the luck to know is more capable of
giving it than yourself. Recollect, when you write, that I am
a sort of protfgt of yours, and that it is your bounden duty
to lecture me.

I will now give you my direction : it is 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 Alma Mater I I am a very
worthy son in as far as affection goes. 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. I long for
the time when we shall again meet, and till then believe me,,
my dear Henslow,

Your affectionate and obliged friend,

CH. DARWIN.

Remember me most kindly to those who take any interest
in me.

THE ' BEAGLE LAID ASHORE, RIVER SANTA CRUZ.

CHAPTER VI.

THE VOYAGE.

"THERE is a natural good-humoured energy in his letters just like
himself." — From a letter of Dr. R. W. Darwin's to Prof. Henslow.

[THE object of the Beagle voyage is briefly described in my
father's 'Journal of Researches,' p. I, as being "to complete
the Survey of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, commenced
under Captain King in 1826 to 1830; to survey the shores
of Chile, Peru, and some islands in the Pacific ; and to
carry a chain of chronometrical measurements round the
world."

The Beagle 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, their bul-

* ' Voyages of the Ad-venture and illustration at the head of the chap-
Beagle] vol. i. introduction xii. The ter is from vol. ii. of the same work.

2i8 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 22.

warks were high in proportion to their size, so that a heavy
sea breaking over 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
in 1831 for her second voyage, she was found (as I 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 her
much safer in heavy weather, and giving her far more com-
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 ropes, 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, 1831: "Everybody,
who can judge, says it is one of the grandest voyages that
has almost ever been sent out. Everything is on a grand
scale. ... In short, everything is as prosperous as human
means can make it." The twenty-four chronometers and
the mahogany fittings seem to have been especially admired,
and are again alluded to.

Owing to the smallness of the vessel, every one 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,

THE SHIP. 219

dressing, and sleeping ; the hammock being left hanging over
bis head by day, when the sea was at all rough, that he might
lie on it with a book in his hand when he could not any
longer sit at 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, without which there was not length for it, so then
the foot-clews took the place of the top drawer. For speci-
mens 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 when I left they were, and mine is a capital one, cer-
tainly next best to the Captain's and remarkably light. My
companion most luckily, I think, will turn out to be the officer
whom I shall like best. Captain Fitz-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
in the middle is a large table, on which we two sleep in
hammocks. 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 on the Beagle 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 ; i.e., taking care of the minutes.

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
Fitz-Roy that he hired two decked boats 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 a

22O THE VOYAGE. ^ETAT. 22.

tender, thus saving the country a further large amount. He-
was ultimately ordered to sell the schooner, and was com-
pelled to bear the loss himself, and it was only after his dcathi
that some 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 were sent away from
the ship for weeks together, and this in a climate, where-
the crews were exposed to severe hardship 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-
maker, 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.

In a letter to his sister (July 1832) he writes contentedly-
of his manner of life at sea : — " I do not think I 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 ofT
the minute one has done eating, &c. At sea, when the
weather is calm, I work at marine animals, with which the:
whole ocean abounds. If there is any sea up I am either 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 calavanses are
excellent vegetables, and, with good bread, who could want
more? Judge Alderson could not be more temperate, as-
nothing but water comes on the table. At five we have tea..
* Either one or both were on the books for victuals.

THE OFFICERS. 221

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, "Com-
mander and Surveyor," two lieutenants, one of whom (the
first lieutenant) was the late 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 (ist 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 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 Beagle, and of the friends he made on board
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.

It is pleasant to know how affectionately his old companions-
remember 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 of or to 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.

* His other nickname was " The another boatswain over the ship,.

Flycatcher." I have heard my and pointing out the officers :.

father tell how he overheard the " That's our first lieutenant ; that's,

boatswain of the Beagle showing our doctor ; that's our flycatcher."

222 THE VOYAGE. /ETAT. 22.

writes to me: — "Your father is as vividly in my mind's
eye as 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 a boat with him on some
of his scientific excursions, and always looked forward to
these trips with great pleasure, an anticipation that, unlike
many others, was always realised. I think he was the only
man I ever knew against whom I 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. Cer-
tainly we were always so hard at work, we had no time to
quarrel, but if we had done so, I feel sure your father would
have tried (and have been successful) to throw oil on the
troubled waters."

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 Fitz-Roy was a strict officer, and made him-
self 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
were a few officers as well as seamen and marines, who had
served in the Adventure or Beagle during the whole of that
expedition.

My father speaks of the officers as a fine determined set of

* ' Voyage of the Adventure and Beagle? vol. ii. p. 21.,

SEA-SICKNESS. 223

men, and especially of Wickham, the first lieutenant, as a
" glorious fellow." The latter being responsible for the smart-
ness 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 I were skipper, I 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
to Mr. P. G. King, M.L.C., Sydney, who, as before stated,
was a midshipman on board the Beagle : — " 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 hear of your happiness and prosperity." Mr. King
describes the pleasure my father seemed to take " in pointing
out to me as a youngster the delights of the tropical nights,
with their balmy breezes eddying out of the sails above us,
and the sea lighted up by the passage of the ship through
the never-ending streams of phosphorescent animalculae."

It has been assumed that his ill-health in later years was
due to his having suffered so much from sea-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 uncom-
fortable when the vessel pitched at all heavily. But, judging
from his letters, 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 : " It is a lucky thing
for me that the voyage is drawing to its close, for I positively

224 THE VOYAGE. ,ETAT. 22.

Buffer more from sea-sickness now than three years ago."
Admiral Lort Stokes wrote to the Times, April 25, 1883 :—

"May I beg a corner for my feeble testimony to the
marvellous persevering 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 a 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 in the poop cabin of the Beagle
•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 hori-
zontal for it,' that being the best relief position from ship
motion ; a stretch out on one side of the table for some time
would enable him to resume his labours for a while, when he
had 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 Beagtis voyage."

Mr. A. B. Usborne writes, " He 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 thus relieving him, I have been pronounced by him
to be ' a good officer,' and he would resume his microscopic
observations in the poop cabin." The amount of work that
he got through on the Beagle shows that he was habitually
in full vigour ; he, had, however, one severe illness in South
America, when he was received into the house of an English-
man, Mr. Corfield, who tended him with careful kindness.
I have heard him say that in this illness every secretion of
the body was affected, and that when he described the

LETTERS. 225

•symptoms to his father Dr. Darwin could make no guess as
ito 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 Beagle letters give ample proof of his strong love of
ihome, 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 I
felt at being certain that my father and all of you were well,
•only four months ago, you would not grudge the labour lost
in keeping up the regular series of letters."

Or again — his longing to return in words like these : —
'" It 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 as I
• do to see you all again. I am at present, although nearly
.half the world is between me and home, beginning to arrange
what I shall do, where I shall go during the first week."

Another feature in his letters is 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
ihim 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 so poor that you
were puzzled what to say ; the case is now quite on the oppo-
site tack, for you are guilty of exciting all my vain feelings
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 Beagles

22''> THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 22. [1832.

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 year."

In selecting the following series of letters, I have been
guided by the wish to give as much personal detail as pos-
sible. I 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 idea of his personal character ; the letters given in the
present chapter serve to amplify in fresher and more spon-
taneous words that impression of his personality which the
' Journal ' has given to so many readers.]

C. Darwin to R, W. Darwin.

Bahia, or San Salvador, Brazils

[February 8, 1832].

I find after the first paee I have been writing
MY DEAR FATHER, to my sisters.

1 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. I 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 consequence — a heavy sea. In

1832.] SEA-SICKNESS. 22/

the Bay of Biscay there was a long and continuous swell, and
the misery I endured from sea-sickness is far beyond what I
ever guessed at. I believe you are curious about it. I 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
begins when you are so exhausted that a little exertion makes
a feeling of faintness come on. I found nothing but lying in
my hammock did me any good. I 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. It afterwards has turned out it was lucky we
saved ourselves the trouble. I was much too sick even to get
up to see the distant outline. On the 6th, in the evening, we
sailed into the harbour of Santa Cruz. I now first felt even
moderately well, and I was picturing to myself all the delights
of fresh fruit growing in beautiful valleys, and reading Hum-
boldt's descriptions of the island's glorious views, when perhaps
you may nearly guess at our disappointment, when a small
pale man informed us we must perform a strict quarantine 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. Tell
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 latter. I feel certain he will regret it if he does

VOL. I. R

228 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 23. [1832.

not make the attempt. From Teneriffe to St. Jago the voy-
age was extremely pleasant. I 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
so delightful and clear, that the sky and water together
made a picture. On the i6th 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 flown away most delightfully, indeed nothing can be
pleasanter ; exceedingly busy, and that business both a duty
and a great delight. I do not believe I have spent one half-
hour idly since leaving Teneriffe. St. Jago has afforded me
an exceedingly rich harvest in several branches of Natural
History. I find the descriptions scarcely worth anything of
many of the commoner animals that inhabit the Tropics. I
allude, of course, to those of the lower classes.

Geologising in a 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
cocoa-nuts in a thicket of bananas and coffee-plants, and an
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 during
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 a person who has not been out of Europe, the total dis-
similarity of a tropical view. Whenever I enjoy anything, I
always either look forward to writing it down, either in my
log-book (which increases in bulk), or in a letter ; so you must
excuse raptures, and those raptures badly expressed. I find
my collections are increasing wonderfully, and from Rio I
think I shall be obliged to send a cargo home.

1832.] LIFE AT SEA. 22Q

All the endless delays which we experienced at Plymouth
have been most fortunate, as I verily believe no person ever
went out better provided for collecting and observing in the
different branches of Natural History. In a multitude of coun-
sellors I certainly found good. I find to my great surprise
that a ship is singularly comfortable for all sorts of work.
Everything is so close at hand, and being cramped makes one
so 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. I do not think there is much danger of Erasmus
setting the example, but in case there should be, he may rely
upon it he does 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-
santly, and when apparently not employed, he is thinking. If
he does not kill himself, he will during this voyage do a won-
derful quantity of work. I find I 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 shall not stay very
long, 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. — About 280 miles from Bahia. On the
I Oth we spoke the packet Lyra, on her voyage to Rio. I sent
a short letter by her, to be sent to England on [the] first

R 2

230 THE VOVAGE. /ETAT. 23. [1832.

opportunity. We have been singularly unlucky in not
meeting with any homeward-bound vessels, but 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 dis-
agreeable operation, consists in having your face rubbed with
paint and tar, which forms a lather for a saw which represents
the razor, and then being half drowned in a sail filled with
salt water. About 50 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
barren, but is covered by hosts of birds ; they were so unused
to 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 [Bra-
zilians] 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
difficult to move out of the beaten path. I find the Natural
History of all these unfrequented spots most exceedingly
interesting, especially the geology. I have written this much
in order to save time at Bahia.

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 light-
ness which no European tree partakes of. Bananas and plan-
tains are exactly the same as those in hothouses, the acacias
or tamarinds are striking from the blueness of their foliage ;
but 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

1832.] BAHIA. 231

form. Cocoa-nuts, papaws, the light green bananas, and
oranges, loaded with fruit, generally surround the more luxu-
riant villages. Whilst viewing such scenes, one feels the
impossibility that any description should come near the mark,
much less be overdrawn.

March ist. — Bahia, or San Salvador. I 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 long, have a very light and elegant appearance.
Convents, porticos, and public buildings, vary the uniformity
of the houses ; the bay is scattered over with large ships ; in
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
but 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 Teneriffe. My
feelings amount to admiration the more I read him. Tell
Eyton (I find I am writing to my sisters !) how exceedingly I
enjoy America, and that I am sure it will be a great pity if
he does not make a start.

This letter will go on the 5th, 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
1 2th we start for Rio, but we remain some time on the way

232 THE VOYAGE. ,-ETAT. 23. [1832.

in sounding the Albrolhos shoals. Tell Eyton as far as my
experience goes let him study Spanish, French, drawing, and
Humboldt. I do sincerely hope to hear of (if not to see him)
in South America. I look forward to the letters in Rio —
till each one is acknowledged, mention its date in the next.

We have beat all the ships in manoeuvring, so much so
that the commanding officer says, we need not follow his
example ; because we do everything better than his great
ship. I begin to take great interest in naval points, more
especially now, as I find they all say we are the No. I in South
America. I suppose the Captain is a most excellent officer.
It was quite glorious to-day how we beat the Samarang in
furling sails. It is quite a new thing for a " sounding ship " to
beat a regular man-of-war ; and yet the Beagle is not at all a
particular ship. Erasmus will clearly perceive it when he
hears that in the night I have actually sat down in the sacred
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, so
that eventually you will have a good account of all the places
I visit. Hitherto the voyage has answered admirably to me,
and yet I am now more fully aware of your wisdom in throw-
ing cold water on the whole scheme ; the chances are 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
him. I have not time to write to anybody else, so send to
Macr to let them know, that in the midst of the glorious
tropical scenery, I do not forget how instrumental they were
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.

I think one's affections, like other good things, flourish
and increase in these tropical regions.

The conviction that I am walking in the New World is

1832.] RIO. 233

even yet marvellous in my own eyes, and I dare say 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,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Botofogo Bay, near Rio de Janeiro,

May, 1832.
MY DEAR 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 hurricane
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 a
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 have already been some weeks.
My collections go on admirably in almost every branch. As
for insects, I trust I 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, Hydrophilus, Hydrobius, Gromius, &c.
&c., as specimens of fresh-water beetles. I am entirely oc-
cupied with land animals, as the beach is only sand. Spiders
and the adjoining tribes have perhaps 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, I often mentally cry out 3 to I tertiary against primitive ;

234 THE VOYAGE. jETAT. 23. [1832.

but the latter have hitherto won all the bets. So much for
the grand end of my voyage : in other respects things are
equally flourishing. My life, when at sea, is 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, I 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 feelings 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 old
Dash, poor thing ! Do you recollect how you all tormented
me about his beautiful tail ?

.... Think when you are picking insects off a hawthorn-
hedge on a fine May day (wretchedly cold, I have no doubt),
think of me collecting amongst pine-apples and orange-trees ;
whilst staining your fingers with dirty 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,
or rain to shake you by the hand. My dear old Fox, God
bless you. Believe me,

Yours very affectionately,

CHAS. DARWIN.

1832.] GEOLOGY. 235

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

Rio de Janeiro, May 18, 1832.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

*****

Till arriving at Teneriffe (we did not touch at Ma-
deira) I was scarcely out of my hammock, and really suf-
fered more than you can well imagine from such a cause. At
Santa Cruz, 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 quaran-
tine. 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 inte-
resting, 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 singularly barren, and
produces few plants or insects, so that my hammer was my
usual companion, and in its company most delightful hours I
spent. On the coast I collected many marine animals, chiefly
gasteropodous (I think some new). I examined pretty accu-
rately a Caryophyllia, and, if my eyes are not bewitched,
former descriptions have not the slightest resemblance to the
animal. I took several specimens of an Octopus which pos-
sessed 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.

236 THE VOYAGE. .ETAT. 23. [1832.

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 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 is not volcanic? We likewise
stayed a few hours at Fernando Noronha ; a tremendous surf
was running so that a boat was swamped, and the Captain
would not wait. I find my life on board when we arc on blue
water most delightful, so very comfortable and quiet — 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 I am ; many cooks have not spoiled the
broth this time. Mr. Brown's little hints about microscopes,
£c., have been invaluable. I am well off in books, the ' Dic-
tionnaire Classique' is most useful. If you should think of
any thing or book that would be useful to me, if you would
write one 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 head-
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 I thought ol the many most
happy hours I have spent with you in Cambridge. I am now
living at Botofogo, a village about a league from the city, and
shall be able to remain a month longer. The Beagle has 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 least sixteen of them, are going superbly ;

none on record have ever gone at all like them.

A few days after arriving I started on an expedition of

1 50 miles to Rio Macao, which lasted eighteen days. Here I

1832.] HUMBOLDT. 237

first saw a tropical forest in all its sublime grandeur — nothing
but the reality can give any idea how wonderful, how magnifi-
cent the scene is. If I was to specify any one thing I should
give the pre-eminence to the host of parasitical plants. Your
•engraving is exactly true, but underrates rather than exag-
gerates the luxuriance. I never experienced such intense
-delight. I formerly admired Humboldt, I 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 describing. I have- taken as
minute (if not more so) as in England, Hydropori, Hygroti,
Hydrobii, Pselaphi, Staphylini, Curculio, &c. &c. It is exceed-
ingly interesting observing the difference of genera and
species from those which I know ; it is however much less
than I had expected. I am at present red-hot with spiders ;
they are very interesting, and if I am not mistaken I have
already taken some new genera. I shall have a large box to
send very soon to Cambridge, and with that I will mention
some more natural history particulars.

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. I am very good
friends with all the officers.

I have just returned from a walk, and as a specimen, how
little the insects are known. Noterus, according to the ' Dic-
tionnaire Classique,' contains solely three European species.
I in one haul of my net took five distinct species ; is this not
quite extraordinary ? . . . .

Tell Professor Sedgwick he does not know how much
I am indebted to him for the Welsh Expedition ; it has

238 THE VOYAGE. jETAT. 23. 1832.

given me an interest in Geology which I would not give up for
any consideration. I do not think I ever spent a more
delightful three weeks than pounding the North-west Moun-
tains. I 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
formation of Brazils. At Bahia the pegmatite and gneiss
in beds had the same direction, as observed by Humboldt,
prevailing over Columbia, distant 1300 miles — is it not won-
derful ? Monte Video will be for a long time my direction.
I hope you will write again to me, there is nobody from whom
I 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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C Darwin to J. M. Herbert.

Botofogo Bay, Rio de Janeiro,

June 1832.

MY DEAR OLD HERBERT,

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 learn to feel truly obliged to those who 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, I
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

1832.] ST. PAUL'S. 239

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. I am sure you will
be glad to hear how very well every part (Heaven forefend,
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.

I 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 accursed 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 circumference, peeping up in the
midst of the Atlantic. There was such a scene here. Wick-
ham (ist Lieutenant) and I were the only two who landed
with guns and geological hammers, &c. The birds by myriads
were too close to shoot ; we then tried stones, but at last,
proJi pudorl my geological hammer was the instrument of
death. We soon loaded the boat with birds and eggs. Whilst
we were so 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 I look forward to many a gallop over the
Pampas. I am ashamed of sending such a scrambling letter,

240 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 23. [1832.

but if you were to see the heap of letters on my table, you
would understand the reason. . . .

I am 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. In a 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 ? I do assure
you I am occasionally " taken aback " by this reflection ; and
then for man or ship it is not so easy to right again. Re-
member me most sincerely to the remnant of most excellent
fellows whom I have the good luck to know in Cambridge —
I mean Whitley and Watkins. Tell Lowe I am even beneath
his contempt. I can eat salt beef and musty biscuits for
dinner. See what a 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
always be happy and prosperous is my most cordial wish.

Yours affectionately,

CHAS. DARWIX.

C. Darwin to F. Watkins.

Monte Video, River Plata,

August 1 8, 1832.

MY DEAR WATKINS, .

I do not feel very sure you will think a letter from
one so far distant will be worth having ; I write therefore on
the selfish principle of getting an answer. In the different
countries 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, does indeed
become great Recollect this, and some long winter's evening

1832.] MONTE VIDEO. 241

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 first entered on and beheld the luxuriant vegetation
in Brazil it was realizing the visions in the ' Arabian Nights/
The brilliancy of the scenery throws one into a delirium of
delight, and a beetle hunter is not likely soon to awaken from
it, when whichever way he turns fresh treasures meet his eye.
At Rio de Janeiro three months passed away like so many
weeks. I made a most delightful excursion during this time
of 150 miles into the country. I stayed at an estate which
is the last of the cleared ground, behind is one vast impene-
trable forest. It is almost impossible to imagine the quietude
of such a life. Not a human being within some miles in-
terrupts 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 ot
what it meant. The other day we landed our men here, and
took possession at the request of the inhabitants of the central
fort. We philosophers do not bargain for this sort of work,

242 THE VOYAGE. ^iTAT. 24, [1833.

and I hope there will be no more. We sail in the course of a
day or two to survey the coast of Patagonia ; as it is entirely
unknown, I expect a good deal of interest But already do
I perceive the grievous difference between sailing on these
seas and the Equinoctial ocean. In the " Ladies' Gulf," as the
Spaniards 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 see 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
jacket would disfigure an angel. Believe me, my dear Wat-
kins, with the warmest feelings of friendship,

Ever yours,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. S. Hensloiu.

April n, 1833.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

We are now running up from the Falkland Islands to
the Rio Negro (or Colorado). The Beagle 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
a civilised port ; nearly 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.

1 833.] FUEGIANS. 243

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 very 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 I 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. I do 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. I shall never forget this
when entering Good Success Bay — the yell with which a
party received us. They were seated on a rocky point, sur-
rounded 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 kingdom, the former
character prevails ; I have in consequence not added much to
my collections.

The Geology of this part of Tierra del Fuego was, as
indeed every place is, to me very interesting. The country
is non-fossiliferous, and a common-place succession of granitic
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.
I forgot to mention the fate of the Fuegians whom we took
back to their country. They had become entirely European
in their habits and wishes, so much so that the younger one
had forgotten his own language, and their countrymen paid
but very little attention to them. We built houses for them

VOL. I. S

244 THE VOYAGE. jETAT. 24. [1833.

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 be left unstolen.

. . . 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
purchased 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 animals of the Pacific may keep up my resolution.
Remember me most kindly to Mrs. Henslow and all other
friends ; I am a true lover of Alma Mater and all its
inhabitants,

Believe me, my dear Henslow,

Your affectionate and most obliged friend,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Danuin to Miss C. Daiiuin.

Maldonado, Rio Plata, May 22, 1833.

. . . The following business piece is to my father. Having
a servant of my own would be a really great addition
to my comfort For these two reasons : as at present the
Captain has appointed one of the men always to be with me,
but I do not think it just thus to take a seaman out of the
ship ; and, secondly, when at sea I am rather badly off for
any one to 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. I have now left England nearly
a year and a half, and I find my expenses are not above

I833-] HOME LETTERS. 245

£200 per annum ; so 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.
I have mentioned this because for a long time I have been
thinking about it.

June. — I have just received a bundle more letters. I do
not know how to thank you all sufficiently. One from
Catherine, 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 letter. If I can manage it, I will, before doubling
the Horn, send the rest. I am quite delighted to find the
hide of the Megatherium has given you all some little
interest in my employments. These fragments are not, how-
ever, 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
little 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 I have
already said) than much immediate pleasure which now
makes me continue 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 opportunities for geology and for studying
the infinite host of living beings ! Is not this a prospect to

S 2

246 THE VOYAGE. .ETAT. 24. [1833.

keep up the most flagging spirit ? If I 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.
I always much enjoy political gossip and what you at home
think will, &c., &c., take place. I steadily read up the weekly
paper, but it is not sufficient to guide one's opinion ; and
I 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 countries all my opinions
would be altered ; the only alteration I am aware of is
forming a much higher estimate of the negro character.
It is impossible to see 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 Portu-
guese, with their murderous countenances, without almost
wishing for Brazil to 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 Rio a man (I know not his title) who has
a large salary to prevent (I 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 2, 1833.

MY DEAR HERBERT,

I have been confined for the last three days to a
miserable dark room, in an old Spanish house, from the torrents

1 83 3.] GOOD SUCCESS BAY. 247

of rain : I am not, therefore, in very good trim for writing ;
but, defying 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 ist, a short time since.
We are now passing part of the winter in the Rio Plata, after
having had a hard summer's work to the south. Tierra del
Fuego is indeed a miserable place ; the ceaseless fury of the
gales is quite tremendous. One evening we saw old Cape
Horn, and three weeks afterwards we were only thirty miles
to windward of it. It is a grand spectacle to see all nature
thus raging ; but Heaven knows every one in the Beagle has
seen enough in this one summer to last them their natural
lives.

The first place we landed at was Good Success Bay. It
was here Banks and Solander met such disasters on ascending
one of the mountains. The weather was tolerably fine, and I
enjoyed some walks in a wild country, like that behind Bar-
mouth. The valleys are impenetrable from the entangled
woods, but the higher parts, near the limits of perpetual snow,
are bare. From some of these hills the scenery, from its
savage, solitary character, was most sublime. The only in-
habitant of these heights is the guanaco, and with its shrill
neighing it often breaks the stillness. The consciousness
that no European foot had ever trod much of this ground
added to the delight of these rambles. How often and how
vividly have many of the hours spent at Barmouth come
before my mind ! I 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 necessary to be separated from all which one has been
accustomed to, to know how properly to treasure up such recol-
lections, 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,
surrounded with heaps of parchment ; but then there must be.

248 THE VOYAGE. ^ETAT. 24. [1833.

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,
shall 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 a lions'
provider : I do 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 Slavery. 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 ]. Mackintosh
used to say, have no enthusiasm, except against enthusiasm,
have for the present run their race. I am sorry, by your
letter, to hear you have not been well, and that you partly
attribute it to want of exercise. I 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
believe, even to a cubic fatJiom of pudding. Instead, I 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
believe me, my dear Herbert,

Your affectionate friend,

CHARLES DARWIN.

1 834.] A NEW OSTRICH. 249

C. Darwin to y. S. Henslow.

East Falkland Island, March, 1834.

I am 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 strati-
fication, &c., I feel inclined to cry " a fig for your big oysters,
and your bigger megatheriums." But then when digging out
some fine bones, I wonder how any man can tire his arms
with hammering granite. By the way I have not one clear
idea about cleavage, stratification, lines of upheaval. I have
no books which tell me much, and what they do I cannot
apply to what I see. In consequence I draw my own con-
clusions, and most gloriously ridiculous ones they are, I
sometimes fancy. . . . Can you throw any light into my
mind by telling me what relation cleavage and planes of
deposition bear to each other ?

And now for my second section, Zoology. I 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
Flustra, which I dare say I mentioned having found to the
northward, where the cells have a movable organ (like a
vulture'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.
I have the head, neck, piece of skin, feathers, and legs of one.
The differences are chiefly in the colour of the feathers and
scales on legs, being feathered below the knees, nidification,
and geographical distribution. So much for what I have

250 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 2$. [1834.

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,
an ocean, its shores abounding with life, so that, if nothing
unforeseen happens, I 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 have 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 re-
doubled force on the devoted blocks ; as I thought over
the eloquence of the Cambridge President, I hit harder
and harder blows. I hope to give my arms strength for the
Cordilleras. You will send me through Capt. Beaufort a copy
of the Cambridge ' Report.'

I 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 require being kept par-
ticularly dry ; it may perhaps save you some trouble. When
this letter will go I 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
merchant vessel is chartered to take them to Rio, I will send
some specimens (especially my few plants and seeds). Re-
member me to all my Cambridge friends. I love and treasure
up every recollection of dear old Cambridge. I am much

* The second meeting of the Oxford in 1832, the following year
British Association was held at it was at Cambridge.

1 834.] JEMMY BUTTON. 251

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,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Danvin to Miss C. Darwin.

East Falkland Island, April 6, 1834.

MY DEAR CATHERINE,

When this letter will reach you I 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-skins, which are
most valuable to themselves) for his old friends. The Captain
offered to take him to England, but this, to our surprise, he
at 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 sabe nothing — damned fools " — now they
were very good people, with too much to eat, and all the

* Jemmy Button, York Minster, England by Captain Fitz-Roy in
and Fuegia Basket, were natives his former voyage, and restored to
of Tierra del Fuego, brought to their country by him in 1832.

252 THE VOYAGE. ^iTAT. 2$. [1834.

luxuries of life. Jemmy and his wife paddled away in their
canoe loaded with presents, and very happy. The most
curious thing is, that Jemmy, instead of recovering his
own language, has taught all his friends a little English.
44 J. Button's canoe " and " Jemmy's wife come," " Give me
knife," &c., was said by several of them.

We then bore away for this island — this little 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, of course, been
murdered ; we now send a lieutenant with four sailors, without
authority or instructions. A man-of-war, however, ventured
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 a 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, &c, 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, I rode across the island, and returned in four days.
My excursion would have been longer, but during the
whole time it blew 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 elastic 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

1 834.] PLANS. 253

look at the ship's bottom. We struck rather heavily on an
unknown rock off Port Desire, and some of her copper is torn
off. After this is repaired the Captain has a glorious scheme ;
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.
I cannot imagine anything more interesting. Our plans then
are to go to Port 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, so 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 highest mountain in
the south, excepting Mt. ! ! Darwin ! !). We then shall scud
away for Concepcion in Chili. I 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 I understand pretty well is so
intimately connected with periods of violence in that great
chain of mountains. The future is, indeed, to me a brilliant
prospect. You say its very brilliancy frightens you ; but
really I am very careful ; I may mention as a proof, in all my
rambles I 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. Remember me most
kindly to Uncle Jos, and to all the Wedgwoods. Tell Charlotte
(their married names sound downright unnatural) I should
like to have written to her, to have told her how well every-
thing is going on ; but it would only have been a transcript of
this letter, and I have a host of animals at this minute sur-
rounding 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 extrava-

2$4 THE VOYAGE. JETAT. 2$. [1834.

gance, 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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

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, 1834,

MY DEAR WHITLEY,

I have long intended writing, just to put you in mind
that there is a certain hunter of beetles, and pounder of rocks,
still in existence. Why I have not done so before I know
not, but it will serve me right if you have quite forgotten me.
It is a very long time since I have heard any Cambridge news ;
I neither know where you are living or what you are doing.
I 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. I have often said I once had a very good
friend, an out-and-out Tory, and we managed to get on very
well together. 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

* His old nurse.

1 834.] GEOLOGY. 255

of trouble, for we all stick to our former opinions rather
more obstinately than before, and can give rather fewer
reasons for doing so.

I do hope you will write to me : (' H.M.S. Beagle,
S. American Station ' will find me). I should much like
to hear in what state you are both in body and mind.
% Quito sabe ? as the people say here (and God knows they
well may, for 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 I saw retirement, green cottages,
and white petticoats. What will become of me hereafter
I know not ; I feel like a ruined man, who does not see or
care how to extricate himself. That this voyage must
come to a conclusion my reason tells me, but otherwise I
see no end to it. It is impossible not bitterly to regret the
friends and other sources of pleasure one leaves behind in
England; in place of it there is much solid enjoyment,
some present, but more in anticipation, when the ideas
gained during the voyage can be compared to fresh ones.
I find in Geology a never-failing interest, as it has been
remarked, it creates the same grand ideas respecting this
world which Astronomy does for the universe. We have
seen much fine scenery ; that of the Tropics in its glory and
luxuriance exceeds even the language of Humboldt to de-
scribe. 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 I have seen nothing which more completely aston-
ished me than the first sight of a 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 it, must be in-
conceivably wild. Standing on a rock he uttered tones and

256 THE VOYAGE. ,ETAT. 2$. [I&34-

made gesticulations, than which the cries of domestic animals
are far more intelligible.

When I return to England, you must take me in hand
with respect to the fine arts. I yet recollect there was a
man called Raflfaelle Sanctus. How delightful it will be
once again to see, in the Fitzwilliam, Titian's Venus. How
much more then 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 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 company. Such can never return, but their recollection
can never die away.

God bless you, my dear Whitley,

Believe me, your most sincere friend,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to Miss C. Darwin.

Valparaiso, November 8, 1834.

MY DEAR CATHERINE,

My last letter was rather a gloomy one, for I was not
very well when I wrote it. Now everything is as bright as
sunshine. I am quite well again after being a second time in
bed for a fortnight. Captain Fitz-Roy very generously 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

1834-] CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY. 257

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, &c. &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 to the 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 grief
on board the Beagle about the Captain's decision was universal
and deeply felt ; one great source of his annoyment was the
feeling it impossible to fulfil the whole instructions ; from his
state of mind it never occurred to him that the very instruc-
tions order him to do as much of the West coast as he has time
for, and then proceed across the Pacific.

Wickham (very disinterestedly giving up his own promo-
tion) urged this most strongly, stating that when he took the
command 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
as commanded by the Pacific. The Captain at last, to every
one's joy, consented, and the resignation was withdrawn.

Hurrah ! hurrah ! it is fixed the Beagle 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 about
five months. We shall examine the Chonos Archipelago,
entirely unknown, and the curious inland sea behind Chiloe.
For me it is glorious. Cape Tres Montes is the most southern
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

258 THE VOYAGE. jETAT. 26. [1834.

sterile, but abounding with the highest interest to a geologist.
For the first time since leaving England I now see a clear and
not so distant prospect of returning to you all : crossing the
Pacific, and from Sydney home, will not take much time.

As soon as the Captain invalided I at once determined to
leave the Beagle, 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 it) ; but the
minute it was all over, I could not make up my mind to
return. I could not give up all the geological castles in the
air which I had been building up for the last two years. 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 I had put it in execution, my father would
have sent a mandamus after me) ; it was to examine the Cor-
dilleras of Chili during this summer, and in the winter go from
port to port on the coast of Peru to Lima, returning this time
next year to Valparaiso, cross the Cordilleras to Buenos Ayres,
and take ship to England. Would not this have been a fine
excursion, and in sixteen months I should have been with you
all ? To have endured Tierra del Fuego and not seen the
Pacific would have been miserable. . . .

I go 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 I have kept my promise of being
extravagant in Chili. I have drawn a bill of ;£ioo(had it not
better be notified to Messrs. Robarts & Co.) ; £50 goes to the
Captain for the ensuing year, and £30 1 take to sea for the small
ports ; so that bond fide I have not spent ;£i8o during these
last four months. I hope not to draw another bill for six

I835-] EARTHQUAKE. 259

months. All the foregoing particulars were only settled yes-
terday. It has done me more good than a pint of medicine,
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. I have had ill luck, 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 a word being
spoken, it was devil take the hindmost who should get out
first ; at the same moment I felt my bed slightly 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. . . .

Good-bye to you all ; you will not have another letter for
some time.

My dear Catherine,

Yours affectionately,

CHAS. DARWIN.

My best love to my father, and all of you. Love to Nancy.

C. Darwin to Miss S. Darwin.

Valparaiso, April 23, 1835.

MY DEAR SUSAN,

I received, a few days since, your letter of November ;
the three letters which I before mentioned are yet missing,
but I do not doubt they will come to life. I returned a week
ago from my excursion across the Andes to Mendoza.
Since leaving England I have never made so successful
a journey ; it has, however, been very expensive. I am sure
my father would not regret it, if he could know how deeply
I have enjoyed 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. I literally
could hardly sleep at nights for thinking over my day's;
VOL. I. T

260 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 26. [1835.

work. The scenery was so new, and so majestic ; every-
thing at an elevation of 12,000 feet bears so different an aspect
from that in a lower country. I have seen many views more
beautiful, but none with so 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 pie.

I crossed by the Portillo Pass, which at 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, I
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 food, in case of being snowed up.
Everything, however, favoured me ; not even a speck of this
year's snow had fallen on the road. I do not suppose any
of you can be much interested in geological details, but I
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,
I can clearly demonstrate that one part of the double line
is of an age long posterior to the other. In the more ancient
line, which is the true chain of the Andes, I 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 con-
sequence, I have procured fossil shells (from an elevation of
12,000 feet). I 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 feet, are so very modern as to be con-

1 83 5«] GEOLOGY. 26l

temporaneous 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 wonderful
changes have taken place so recently in the crust of the globe,
there can be no reason for supposing former epochs of
excessive violence. These modern strata are very remark-
able by being threaded with metallic veins of silver, gold,
copper, &c. ; hitherto these have been considered as apper-
taining to older formations. In these same beds, and close
to a gold-mine, I found a clump of petrified trees, 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 several thousand feet. These rocks have been
deposited beneath 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 land must have been depressed
by at least as many thousand feet as the superincumbent
subaqueous deposits are thick. But I 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. I cannot fancy anything more de-
lightful than his Sunday round of King's, Trinity, and those
talking giants, Whewell and Sedgwick ; I hope your musical
tastes continue in due force. I shall be ravenous for the
pianoforte. . . .

I have 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 beautiful ; I am certain the

* The importance of these results has been fully recognized by
geologists.

T 2

262 THE VOYAGE. JET AT. 26. [1835.

acacia and copper beech are two superb trees ; I shall know
every bush, and I will trouble you young ladies, when each of
you cut down your tree, to spare a few. 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 Cordil-
leras. So you will say, with my benighted faculties, it is time
to return, and so it is, and I long to be with you. Whatever
the trees are, I know what I shall find all you. I am writing
nonsense, so farewell. My most affectionate love to all, and
I pray forgiveness from my father.

Yours most affectionately,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Lima, July, 1835.
MY DEAR FOX,

I have lately received two of your letters, one dated
June and the other November 1834 (they reached me, however,
in an inverted order). I was very glad to receive a history of
this most important year in your life. Previously I had only
heard the plain fact that you were married. You are a true
Christian and return good for evil, to send two such letters to
so bad a correspondent as I have been. God bless you for
writing so kindly and affectionately ; if it is a pleasure 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 I do not know what
will become of me. Your situation is above envy : I do not
venture even to frame such happy visions. To a person fit to
take 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 is a sort of scene I never ought to think

1 83 5.] MR. LYELL. 263

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, I presume, are not very ready to
believe. 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 to 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 volcanoes, and, I should hope, contain Ter-
tiary strata. I am glad to hear you have some thoughts of be-
ginning Geology. I hope you will ; there is so much larger
a field for thought than in the other branches of Natural
History. I am become a zealous disciple of Mr. Lyell's
views, as known in his admirable book. Geologising in South
America, I am tempted to carry parts to a greater extent
even than he does. Geology is a capital science to begin, as
it requires nothing but a little reading, thinking, and hammer-
ing. I have a considerable body of notes together ; but it is
a constant subject of perplexity to me, whether they are of
sufficient value for all the time I have spent about them,
or whether animals would not have been of more certain
value.

I shall 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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

264 THE VOYAGE. /fcTAT. 27. [1836.

C. Darwin to J. S. Hensloic.

Sydney, January, 1836.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

This is the last opportunity of communicating with
you before that 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, othenvise I dare say, I should have seen your hand-
writing. I must feed upon the future, and it is beyond
bounds delightful to feel the certainty that within eight
months I shall be residing once again most quietly in Cam-
bridge. Certainly, I never was intended for a traveller ; my
thoughts are always rambling over past or future scenes ; 1
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 is a most
charming spot. Everything which former navigators have
written is true. 'A new Cytheraea has risen from the
ocean.' Delicious scenery, climate, manners of the people
are all in harmony. It is, moreover, admirable to behold
what the missionaries both here and at New Zealand have
effected. I firmly believe they are good men working for
the sake of a good cause. I much suspect that those who
have abused or sneered 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>

1836.] HOME LETTERS. 265

and nearly all under the British flag. These will be a poor
field for Natural History, and without it I have lately dis-
covered that the pleasure of seeing new places is as nothing.
I must return to my old resource and think of the future, but
that I may not become more prosy, I will say farewell till the
day arrives, when I shall see my Master in Natural History,
and can tell him how grateful I feel for his kindness and
friendship.

Believe me, dear Henslow,

Ever yours, most faithfully,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to Miss S. Darwin.

Bahia, Brazil, August 4 [1836].

MY DEAR SUSAN,

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 hemisphere,
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 my feelings. I loathe, I abhor the sea and
all ships which sail on it. But I yet believe we shall reach
England in the latter half of October. At Ascension I
received Catherine's letter of October, and yours of November ;
the letter at the Cape was of a later date, but letters of all sorts
are inestimable treasures, and I thank you both for 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 I 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.

266 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 2/. [1836.

I little 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 seeking for splendid
contrasts, I compare the stately mango trees with the horse-
chestnuts of England. Although this zigzag has lost us at
least a fortnight, in some respects I am glad of it. I 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. I 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 letters were full of good news ; especially the
expressions which you tell me Professor Sedgwick used about
my collections. I confess they are deeply gratifying — I trust
one part at least will turn out true, and that I shall act as I
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
board 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. DARWIN.

1836.] ST. HELENA. 267

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

St. Helena, July 9, 1836.

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

I 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 before
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.

I 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, I 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
I 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. I am 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 excellent
night for such wandering spirits. If the weather chooses
to permit me, I hope to see a little of the Geology (so
often partially described) of the island. I suspect that
differently from most volcanic islands its structure is rather
complicated. It seems strange that this little centre of a

268 THE VOYAGE. /ETAT. 27. [1836.

distinct creation should, as is asserted, bear marks of recent
elevation.

The Beagle proceeds from this place to Ascension, then to
the Cape de Verds (what miserable places !) to the Azores to
Plymouth, and then to home. That most glorious of all days
in my life will not, however, arrive till the middle of October.
Some time in that month you will sec 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 arc 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 I shall soon see
you yourself, which is far better. As I am 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 I hope for the best, and I am sure I have a
good if not too easy taskmaster.

At the Cape Captain Fitz-Roy and myself enjoyed a me-
morable piece of good fortune in meeting Sir J. Herschcl.
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 comfortable
country house, surrounded by fir and oak trees, which alone
in so open a country, give a most charming air of seclusion
and comfort. He appears to find time for everything; he
showed us a pretty garden full of Cape bulbs of his own col-
lecting, and I aftenvards understood that everything was the
work of his own hands. ... I am 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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

1836.] HOME. 269

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

Shrewsbury, Thursday, October 6 [1836].

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

I am sure you will congratulate me on the delight of
once again being home. The Beagle arrived at Falmouth on
Sunday evening, and I reached Shrewsbury yesterday morn-
ing. I am exceedingly anxious to see you, and as it will be
necessary in four or five days to return to London to get my
goods and chattels out of the Beagle, 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 geo-
logical specimens — who will have the charity to help me in
describing 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 till I
hear from Captain Fitz-Roy whether I shall not be obliged to
start before 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,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C.- Darwin to R. Fitz-Roy.

Shrewsbury, Thursday morning, October 6 [1836].
MY DEAR FlTZ-ROY,

I 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.

2/0 THE VOYAGE. ^TAT. 2?. [1836.

Indeed, all England appears changed excepting the good old
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 am a very great man at home ; the five years'
voyage has certainly raised me a hundred per cent. I fear
such greatness must experience a fall.

I am thoroughly ashamed of myself in what a dead-and-
half-alive state I spent the few last days on board ; my only
excuse is that certainly I was 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 admire the fields, woods, and orchards. The stupid people
on the coach did not seem to think the fields one bit greener
than usual ; but I am sure we should have thoroughly agreed
that the wide world does not contain so happy a prospect
as the rich cultivated land of England.

I hope you will not forget to send me a note telling me
how you go on. I do indeed hope all your vexations and
trouble with respect to our voyage, which we now know HAS
an end, have come to a close. 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 uproar 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 I am no renegade, and by the time
we meet my politics will be as firmly fixed and as wisely
founded as ever they were.

I thought when I began this letter I would convince you

1836.] HOME. 2/1

what a steady and sober frame of mind I was in. But I find
I am writing most precious nonsense. Two or three of our
labourers yesterday immediately set to work, and got most
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,

CHAS. DARWIN.

( 272 )

CHAPTER VII.

LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE.
1836-1842.

[THE period illustrated by the following letters includes
the years between my father's return from the voyage of
the Beagle 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. In
June 1841 he writes to Lyell : "My father scarcely seems
to expect that I shall become strong for some years ; it
has been a bitter mortification for me to digest the con-
clusion that the 'race is for the strong,' and that I 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 pro-
fession after his return from the voyage, and early in 1840
he wrote to Fitz-Roy : " I have nothing to wish for, ex-
cepting stronger health to go on with the subjects to which
I have joyfully determined to devote my life."

These two conditions — permanent ill-health and a pas-
sionate love of scientific work for its own sake — determined
thus early in his career, the character of his whole future life.
They impelled him to lead a retired life of constant labour,
carried 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
at Shrewsbury on October 4, 1836, "after an absence of five

COLLECTIONS. 2/3

years and two days." He wrote to Fox : " You cannot
imagine how gloriously delightful my first visit was at home ;
it 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
despondingly, to Henslow : —

" I have not made much progress with the great men.
I find, as you told me, that they are all overwhelmed with
their own business. Mr. Lyell has entered, in the most
good-natured manner, and almost without being asked, into
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, I have
scarcely met any one who seems to wish to possess any of
my specimens. I must except Dr. Grant, who is willing
to examine some of the corallines. I see it is quite un-
reasonable to hope for a 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.
I dare say the British Museum would receive them, but I
cannot feel, from all I hear, any great respect even for the
present state of that establishment. Your plan will be not
only the best, but the only one, namely, to come down to
Cambridge, arrange and group together the different families,
and then wait till 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

* The Museum of the Zoological The collection was some years later
Society, then at 33 Bruton Street, broken up and dispersed..

274 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE.

months in Cambridge, and then when, by your assistance, I
know on what ground I stand, to emigrate to London, where
I can complete my Geology and try to push on the Zoology.
I assure you I grieve to find how many things make me see
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
instance, in fossil bones, of which none excepting the frag-
ments of Megatherium have been looked at, and I clearly
see that without my presence they never would be. ...

** I only wish I had known the Botanists cared so much
for specimens * and the Zoologists so little ; the proportional
number of specimens in the two branches should have had
a very different appearance. I am out of patience with the
Zoologists, not because they are overworked, but for their
mean, quarrelsome spirit. I went the other evening to the
Zoological Society, where the speakers were snarling at each
other in a 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, so about my insects I know
nothing. I have seen Mr. Yarrell twice, but he is so evi-
dently oppressed with business that it is too selfish 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,

* A passage in a subsequent to him, ' You forget how long it is
letter shows that his plants also since Captain King's expedition.'
gave him some anxiety. "I met He answered, 'Indeed, I have some-
Mr. Brown a few days after you thing in the shape of Captain King's
had called on him ; he asked me in undescribed plants to make me
rather an ominous manner what I recollect it.' Could a better reason
meant to do with my plants. In the be given, if I had been asked, by
course of conversation Mr. Erode- me, for not giving the plants to the
rip, who was present, remarked British Museum ? "

LYELL AND LONSDALE. 275

I hear, is so much occupied that there is no chance of his
wishing for specimens of reptiles. I have forgotten to men-
tion Mr. Lonsdale,* who gave me a most cordial reception,
and with whom I 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 heart-and-
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 I could ask, excepting
yourself, to wade through and criticise some of those papers
which I have left with you. Mr. Lyell owned that, second to
London, there was no place in England so good for a
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,f who to my surprise expressed a
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, so
that things flourish well with me."

About his plants he writes with characteristic openness as
to his own ignorance : " You have made me known amongst
the botanists, but I felt very foolish when Mr. Don remarked

* William Lonsdale, b. 1794, when he resigned, owing to ill-

<d. 1871, was originally in the army, health.

and served at the battles of Sala- f T. Bell, F.R.S., formerly Prof,

manca and Waterloo. After the of Zoology in King's College,

war he left the service and gave London, and sometime secretary to

himself up to science. He acted the Royal Society. He afterwards

as assistant secretary to the described the reptiles for the

Geological Society from 1829-42, zoology of the voyage of the Beagle.

VOL. I. U

2/6" LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE.

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 I knew nothing about a Carex
from I do not know where. I was at last forced to plead
most entire innocence, and that I knew no more about the
plants which I had collected than the man in the moon."

As to part of his Geological Collection he was soon able
to write : " I [have] disposed of the most important part
[of] my collections, by giving all the fossil bones to the
College of Surgeons, casts of them will be distributed, and
descriptions published. They are very curious and valuable ;
one head belonged to some gnawing animal, but of the size
of a Hippopotamus ! Another to an ant-eater of the size of a
horse!"

It is worth noting that at this time the only extinct mam-
malia from South America, which had been described, were
Mastodon (three species) and Megatherium. The remains
of the other extinct Edentata from Sir Woodbine Parish's
collection had not been described. My father's specimens
included (besides the above-mentioned Toxodon and Scelido-
thcrium) 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,
but it has a special importance as a 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 speculations on the origin of species.
This is shown in the following extract from his Pocket
Book for this year (1837): "In 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 fossils, and species on Galapagos Archipelago.
These facts (especially latter), origin of all my views."]

* I have often heard him speak a huge, partly excavated bone, when
of the despair with which he had to the boat waiting for him would wait
break off the projecting extremity of no longer.

1836.] PLANS. 277

1836-1837.

C Darwin to W. D. Fox.

43 Great Marlborough Street,

November 6th [1836].
MY DEAR 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 Henslovv
a short but very pleasant visit, I came up to town to wait for
the Beagles 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 ; I
find there are plenty who will undertake the description 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 I have
talked and laughed enough for years instead of weeks, so [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 cannot 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.

U 2

2/8 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1836.

When you pay London a visit I shall be very proud to take
you to the Geological Society, for be it known, I was pro-
posed to be a F.G.S. last Tuesday. It is, however, a great
pity that these and the other letters, especially F.R.S. are so
very expensive.

I 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,

C. D.

[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 loth, 1836. He was at first a
guest in the comfortable home of the Henslows, but after-
wards, for the sake of undisturbed work, he moved into lodgings.
He thus writes to Fox, March 1 3th, 1837, from London : —

"My residence at Cambridge was rather longer than I
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
as before. To walk through the courts of Christ's College,
and not know an inhabitant of a single room, gave one a
feeling 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 say one is engaged
with so 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 : —

1 837.] CAMBRIDGE. 279

"Feb. 23, 1837. — Mr. Darwin v. Mr. Baines, that the com-
bination-room measures from the ceiling to the floor more
than (x) feet. I Bottle paid same day.

" 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 Geological
Society,! 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 the book.
I am now hard at work and give up everything else for it.
Our plan is as follows : Capt. Fitz-Roy writes two volumes
out of the materials collected during the last voyage under
Capt. King to Tierra del Fuego, and during our circum-
navigation. I am to have the third volume, in which I intend
giving a kind of journal of a naturalist, not following, how-
ever, always the order of time, but rather the order of posi-
tion. 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. After-
wards I shall write an account of the geology in detail, and

* "Notes upon Rhea Americana," Soc. Proc.' ii. 1838, pp. 542-544;

' Zool. Soc. Proc.' v. 1837, pp. 35, 36. and " On certain areas of elevation

t 'Geol. Soc. Proc.' ii. 1838, pp. and subsidence in the Pacific and

446-449. Indian oceans, as deduced from

% " A sketch of the deposits con- the study of coral formations,"

taining extinct mammalia in the 'Geol. Soc. Proc.' ii. 1838, pp. 552-

neighbourhood of the Plata," ' Geol. 554.

280 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE.

draw up some zoological papers. So that I have plenty of
work for the next year or two, and till that is finished I will
have no holidays."

Another letter to Fox (July) gives an account of the pro-
gress of his work : —

" I gave myself a holiday and a visit to Shrewsbury [in
June], as I had finished my Journal. I shall now be very
busy in filling up gaps and getting it quite ready for the press
by the first of August. I shall always feel respect for every
one who has written a book, let it be what it may, for I 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
1 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 I hope not a very
great deal of vanity, though I confess I feel too often like a
peacock admiring his tail. I never expected that my Geology
would ever have been worth the consideration of such men as
Lycll, 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 little
time it allows one for seeing one's natural friends. For the
last three years, I have been longing and longing to be living
at Shrewsbury, and after all now in the course of several
months, I see my good dear people at Shrewsbury for a week.
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
illustrate this subject]

1837.] ZOOLOGY OF THE 'BEAGLE.' 28l

C. Day win to L. Jenyns*

36 Great Marlborough Street,

April loth, 1837.

DEAR JENYNS,

During the last week several of the zoologists of this
place have been urging me to consider the possibility of publish-
ing the ' Zoology of the Beagles Voyage ' on some uniform plan.
Mr. Macleayf has taken a great deal of interest in the
subject, and maintains that such a publication is very de-
sirable, because it keeps together a series of observations
made respecting 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 any 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
having 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 I 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 good deal

* Now Rev. L. Blomefield. lection of insects, made Entomology

t William Sharp Macleay was his chief study, and gained great

the son of Alexander Macleay, for- notoriety by his now forgotten

merly Colonial Secretary of New Quinary System, set forth in the

South Wales, and for many years Second Part of his ' Horse Entomo-

Secretary of the Linnean Society. logicae,' published in 1821. — [I am

The son, who was a most zealous indebted to Rev. L. Blomefield for

Naturalist, and had inherited from the foregoing note.]
his father a very large general col-

282 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1837.

of interest in my collections. I mean to-morrow to see
Mr. Yarrcll ; 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
delayed 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. I myself should
have little to do with it ; excepting in some orders adding
habits and ranges, &c., and geographical sketches, and perhaps

afterwards some descriptions of invertebrate animals

I am working at my Journal ; it gets on slowly, though
I am not idle. I thought Cambridge a bad place from good
dinners and other temptations, but I 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 advantageous
to me in discussing much South American geology. I miss
a walk in the country' very much ; this London is a vile smoky
place, where a man loses a great part ot the best enjoyments
in life. But I sec 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 I suppose you will not
come up here during the spring, and I do not think I shall be
able to go down to Cambridge. How I should like 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 edible fungi from Tierra
del Fuego, for I shall want some specimens 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 Gala-

l83/.] GOVERNMENT GRANT. 283

pagos plants ; but before he never would say a word. It
is just striking twelve o'clock ; so I will wish you a very good
night.

My dear Jenyns,

Yours most truly,

C. DARWIN.

[A few weeks later the plan seems to have been matured,
and the idea of seeking Government aid to have been
adopted.]

C. Darwin to J. S. Henslow.

36 Great Marlborough Street,

[i8th May, 1837].

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

I 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 almost
a wonder you have any head left. Your account of the
Gamltngay expedition was cruelly tempting, but I cannot
anyhow leave London. I wanted to pay my good, dear people
at Shrewsbury a visit of a few days, but I found I could not
manage it ; at present I am waiting for the signatures of the
Duke of Somerset, as President of the Linnean, and of Lord
Derby and Whewell, to a statement of the value of my collec-
tion ; the instant I get this I shall apply to Government for as-
sistance 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.

I have been working very steadily, but have only got two-
thirds through the Journal part alone. I find, though I remain
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 mak*e as many ill-natured
remarks as he likes on this unfortunate sentence.

284 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1837.

[In August he writes to Henslow to announce the success of
the scheme for the publication of the ' Zoology of the Voyage
of the Beagle? 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.
I waited till I had an interview with the Chancellor of the
Exchequer.* He appointed to sec me this morning, 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 restric-
tion, but only told me to make the most of [the] money,
which of course I am right willing to do.

" I expected rather an awful interview, but I never found
anything less so in my life. It will be my fault if I 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 : " I 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 Shrews-
bury and Maer, and paid Fox a visit in the Isle of Wight.
It was, I believe, during this visit, at Mr. Wedgwood's house
at Macr, 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.f During these
two months he was also busy preparing the scheme of the
' Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle? and in beginning to put
together the Geological results of his travels.

The following letter refers to the proposal that he should
take the Secretaryship of the Geological Society.]

* T. Spring Rice. « Geol. Soc. Proc.' ii. 1838, pp. 574-

t " On the formation of mould," 576.

1 837.] SECRETARYSHIP. 285

C. Danvin to J. S.

October 1 4th [1837].

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

... I am much obliged to you for your message
about the Secretaryship. 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 unwilling to undertake the
office for the following reasons : First, my entire ignorance
of English Geology, a knowledge of which would be almost
necessary in order to shorten many of the papers before
reading them before the Society, or rather to know what
parts to skip. Again, my ignorance of all languages, and
not knowing how to pronounce even a single 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 much to read. I have had hopes, by giving up
society and not wasting an hour, that I 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 necessarily be required to complete
myself the description of the invertebrate ones. If this plan
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 I have done would
be lost, and all freshness and pleasure quite taken from
inc.

I know from experience the time required to make abstracts

286 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1837.

even of my own papers for the ' Proceedings.' If I was
Secretary, and had to make double abstracts of each paper,
studying them before reading, and attendance would at least
cost me three days (and often more) in the fortnight. There
are likewise 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, I could save time, I would undertake
the Secretaryship ; but I appeal to you whether, with my
slow manner of writing, with two works in hand, and with
the certainty, if I cannot complete the Geological part within
a 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 cannot 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 I have in hand, to delay that, by undertaking what
may be done by any person who happens to have more
spare time than I 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 burdensome. Mr. Whewell (I know very
well), judging from himself, will think I exaggerate the time
the Secretaryship would require ; but I absolutely know the
time which with me the simplest writing consumes. I 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 for-
ward with even tolerable comfort to undertaking 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 I doubt how far my health will
stand the confinement of what I have to do, without any
additional work. I merely repeat, that you may know I am

1 837.] SECRETARYSHIP. 287

not speaking idly, that when I consulted Dr. Clark in town,
he at first urged me to give up entirely all writing and
even correcting press for some weeks. Of late anything
which flurries me completely knocks me up afterwards,
and brings on a violent palpitation of the heart. Now
the Secretaryship would be a periodical source of more
annoying trouble to me than all the rest of the fort-
night 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 I would positively undertake it. I beg of you to excuse
this very long 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 I see the possibility of my taking
the Secretaryship without making a sacrifice 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 in loco 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 different things in hand the pleasanter the work ;
but, though I hope I never shall be idle, such is not the case
with me.

Ever, dear Henslow,

Yours most truly,

C. DARWIN.

[He ultimately accepted the post, and held it for three years
— from February 16, 1838, to February 19, 1841.

After being assured of the Grant for the publication of the
' Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle? there was much to be
done in arranging the scheme of publication, and this occupied
him during part of October and November.]

288 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE [1837.

C. Danvin to jf. S. Hensloiv.

[4th November, 1837.]

MY DEAR HENSLOW,

. . . Pray tell Leonard * that my Government work is
going on smoothly, and I hope will be prosperous. He
will see in the Prospectus his name attached to the fish ;
I set my shoulders to the work with a good heart I am
very much better than I was during the last month before
my Shrewsbury visit. I fear the Geology will take me a
great deal of time ; I was looking over one set 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 I shall not cease
to man-el at finding myself an author ; in the summer before
I started, if any one had told me that I should have been an
angel by this time, I should have thought it an equal im-
possibility. This marvellous transformation is all owing
to you.

I am 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
multiplied, 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 Hcnslow,

C. DARWIN.

1838.

[From the beginning of this year to nearly the end of June
he was busily employed on the zoological and geological
results of his voyage. This spell of work was interrupted

* Rev. L. Jenyns.

1838.] CAMBRIDGE. 289

only by a visit of three days 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 ist, unwell," 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 : I stayed at Henslow's house and
enjoyed my visit extremely. My friends gave me a most
cordial welcome. Indeed, I was quite a lion there. Mrs.
Henslow unfortunately was obliged to go on Friday for a
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
I rode over to L. Jenyns', and spent the morning with him.
I found him very cheerful, 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* . . . ;
I 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 seemed 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 shake the very walls of the
College. After chapel a large party in Sedgwick's rooms.
So much for my Annals."

* Samuel Lee, of Queens', was 1831, and Regius Professor of He-
Professor of Arabic from 1819 to brew from 1831 to 1848.

290 LONDON AND CAMBRIDtil. [1838.

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
London 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 I intend
stopping a week to geologise the parallel roads of Glen 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 on 'Glen
Roy,' one of the most difficult and instructive tasks I was ever
engaged on." It will be remembered that in his ' Recollec-
tions ' 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
formation of the Parallel 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 alluvium.
In arguing against this theory he conceived that he had dis-
proved the admissibility of any lake theory, but in this point
he was mistaken. He wrote (Glen Roy paper, p. 49) " the
conclusion is inevitable, that no hypothesis founded on the
supposed existence of a sheet of water confined by barriers,
that is a lake, can be admitted as solving the problematical
origin of the parallel roads of Lochaber."

Mr. Archibald Geikie 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
character of my father's Glen Roy work : —

" Mr. Darwin's ' Glen Roy ' paper, I need not say, is marked
* « PhiL Trans.' 1839, pp. 39-82.

1838.] GLEX ROY. 291

by all his characteristic acutcncss of observation and determina-
tion to consider all possible objections. It 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 could not possibly have
been dammed back by barriers of rock or of detritus, he saw
no alternative but to regard them as the work of the sea.
Had the idea of transient barriers of glacier-ice occurred to
him, he would have found the difficulties vanish from the
lake-theory which he opposed, and he would not have been
unconsciously led to minimise the altogether overwhelming
objections to the supposition that the terraces are of marine
origin."

It 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
mind his want of opportunities of observing glacial action
on a large scale.

The latter half of July was passed at Shrewsbury and Maer.
The only entry of any interest is one of being "very idle" at
Shrewsbury, and of opening "a note-book connected with
metaphysical inquiries." In August he records that he read
" a good deal of various amusing books, and paid some atten-
tion 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.]

C. Darwin to C. LyelL

36 Great Marlborough Street,

August 9th [1838],

MY DEAR LYELL,

I 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
VOL. I. X

2p2 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1838.

received (and I believe the very first copy distributed) together
with your note. I have read it through every word, and am
full of admiration of it, and, as I now see no geologist, I 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, I am full of
admiration of it, it is as clear as daylight, in fact I felt in
many parts some mortification at thinking how geologists
have laboured and struggled at proving what seems, as you
have put it, so 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 a 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 I disliked the

manner referred to his other works, as much as to say,

"You must, ought, and shall buy everything I have written."
To my mind, you have somehow quite 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 man}' a
one, I trust, you will send there, and make them, like me,
adorers of the good science of rock-breaking. You will see 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. I will say no more about the
book, for it is all praise. I must, however, admire the elabo-
rate 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 spec-
tacle, wretch that I am, 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 Edinburgh,
or more truly on Salisbury Craigs ; I want to hear some day

3838.] GLEN ROY. 293

•what you think about that classical ground, — the structure
was to me new and rather curious, — that is, if I understand it
right. I crossed from Edinburgh in gigs and carts (and carts
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 Marlborough Street.
Here I enjoyed five [?] days of the most beautiful weather with
gorgeous sunsets, and all nature looking as happy as I felt.
I wandered over the mountains in all directions, and examined
that most extraordinary district. I think, without any excep-
tions, not even the first volcanic island, the first elevated
beach, or the passage of the Cordillera, was so interesting to
nic as this week. It is far the most remarkable area I ever
examined. I have fully convinced myself (after some doubt-
ing at first) that the shelves are sea-beaches, although I could
not find a trace of a shell ; and I think I can explain away
most, if not all, the difficulties. I found a piece of a road in
another valley, not hitherto observed, which is important ;
and I have some curious facts about erratic blocks, one of
which was perched up on a peak 2200 feet above the sea. I
am now employed in writing a paper on the subject, which I
find very amusing work, excepting that I cannot anyhow con-
dense it into reasonable 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 had
.my talk out, I am much easier, for I can assure you Glen Roy
3ias astonished me.

I am living very quietly, and therefore 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
right ; 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

X 2

294 LONDON AND CAMUKIDCE. [1838.

answers capitally ; after the second half day is finished I go
and dine at the Athenaeum like a gentleman, or rather like a
lord, for I am sure the first evening I sat in that great draw-
ing-room, all on a sofa by myself, I felt just like a duke. I
am full of admiration at the Athenaeum, one meets so many
people there that one likes to see. The very first time I
dined there (i.c. last week) I met Dr. Fitton * at the door, and
he got together quite a party — Robert Brown, who is gone to
Paris and Auvergne, Macleay [?] and Dr. Boott.t Your helping
me into the Athenaeum has not been thrown away, and I
enjoy it the more because I fully expected to detest it.

I am writing you a most unmerciful letter, but I shall get
Owen to take it to Newcastle. If 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
recent insects and true fossil insects in one table that I fear
you will not make much out of it, though it is a subject which
ought I should think to come into the ' Principles." You will

* W. H. Fitton (b. 1780, d. 1861) the Gardeners' Chronicle, 1864)

was a physician and geologist, and as having been one of the first

sometime president of the Geo- physicians in London who gave up

logical Society. He established the customary black coat, knee-

the ' Proceedings,' a mode of publi- breeches and silk stockings, and

cation afterwards adopted by other adopted the ordinary dress of the

societies. period, a blue coat with brass but-

f Francis Boott (b. 1792, d. 1863) tons, and a buff waistcoat, a cos-
is chiefly known as a botanist tume which he continued to wear
through his work on the genus to the last. After giving up prac-
Carex. He was also well known in tice, which he did early in life, he
connection with the Linnean Society spent much of his time in acts of
of which he was for many years an unpretending philanthropy,
office-bearer. He is described (in J The house of Lyell's father,
a biographical sketch published in

1838.] FITTON, BOOTT. 295

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. I have heard from more than one quarter that quarrel-
ling is expected at Newcastle * ; I am sorry to hear it. I met

old this evening at the Athenaeum, and he muttered

something about writing to you or some one on the subject ;
I am however all in the dark. I suppose, however, I shall be
illuminated, for 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 ;
but I am determined not even to taste his wine, partly for the
fun of seeing his infinite disgust and surprise. . . .

I pity you the infliction of this most unmerciful letter.
Pray remember me most kindly to Mrs. Lyell when you arrive
at Kinnordy. I saw her name in the landlord's book of In-
verorum. 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 I have been drinking some strong drink to write so
much nonsense, but I did not even taste Minerva's small beer
to-day.

Yours most sincerely,

CHAS. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to C. Lyell.

Friday night, September I3th [1838].

MY DEAR LYELL,

I was astonished and delighted at your gloriously
long letter, and I am sure I am very much obliged to
Mrs. Lyell for having taken the trouble to write so much.f
I mean to have a good hour's enjoyment and scribble away

* At the meeting of the British t Lyell dictated much of his

Association. correspondence.

2<X> LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1838.

to you, who have so much geological sympathy that I do
not care how egotistically I write. . . .

I have got so much to say about all sorts of trifling things
that I 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 is 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 dc
la Philosophic ' (or some such title) ? It is capital ; there are
some fine sentences about the very essence of science being
prediction, which reminded me of " its law being progress."

I will now begin and go through your letter seriatim.
I dare say your plan of putting the Elie dc Beaumont's
chapter separately and early will be very good ; anyhow,,
it is showing a bold front in the first edition which is to
be translated into French. It will be a curious point to-
geologists hereafter to note how long a man's name will
support a theory so completely exposed as that of De Beau-
mont'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 to Iwpe : why, the possibility of a doubt has never
crossed my mind for many a day. This may be very un-
philosophical, but my geological salvation is staked on it.
After having just come back from Glen Roy, and found
how difficulties smooth away under your principles, it makes
me quite indignant that you should talk of hoping. With
respect to the question, how far my coral theory bears on
De Beaumont's theory, I think it would be prudent to quote
me with great caution until my whole account is published,
and then you (and others) can judge how far there is founda-
tion for such generalisation. Mind, I do not doubt its truth ;
* Father of the geologist.

1838.] GEOLOGY. 297

but the extension of any view over such large spaces, from
comparatively few facts, must be received with much caution.
I do not myself the least doubt that within the recent (or
as you, much to my annoyment, would call it, "New
Pliocene ") period, tortuous bands — not all the bands parallel
to each other — have been elevated and corresponding ones
subsided, though within the same period some parts 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 pub-
lished I hardly know ; I fear it will be at least four or five
months ; though, mind, the greater part is written. I find so
much time is lost in correcting details and ascertaining their
accuracy. The Government Zoological work is a millstone
round my neck, and the Glen Roy paper has lost me six
weeks. I 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.
I cannot doubt that the molten matter beneath 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 shells being preserved on the
surface, but not in contemporaneous beds of gravel. . . .

Remember what I have often heard you say : the country
is very bad for the intellects ; the Scotch mists will put out
some volcanic speculations. You see I am affecting to
become very Cockneyfied, and to despise the poor country-
folk, who breathe fresh air instead of smoke, and see the
goodly fields instead of the brick houses in Marlborough
Street, the very sight of which I confess I abhor. I am glad
to hear what a favourable report you give of the British
Association. I am the more pleased because I have been
fighting its battle with Basil Hall, Stokes, and several others,
having made up my mind, from the report in the Athenaum,

298 LONDON AND C. \M1JKI1H, I.. [1838.

that it must have been an excellent meeting. I 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 need of it in reading it. ...

I wish with all my heart that my Geological book was out.
I have every motive to work hard, and will, following your
steps, work just that degree of hardness to keep well. I
should like 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 classification
and affinities and instincts of animals — bearing on the
question of species. Note-book after note-book has been
filled with facts which begin to group themselves clearly
under sub-laws.

Good night, my dear Lyell. I have filled my letter and
enjoyed my talk to you as much as I can without having you
in propriA personfi. Think of the bad effects of the country —
so once more good night

Ever yours,

CHAS. DARWIN.

Pray again give my best thanks to Mrs. Lyell.

[The record of what he wrote during the year does not
give 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 from a letter to Fox, written in June, is
of interest in this point of view :

* Murchison.

1 839.] MARRIAGE. 299

" I am 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 I really think some day I shall be
able to do something in that most intricate subject, species
and varieties."]

1839 to 1841.

[In 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
a drawing-room in front, and a small room behind, in which
they lived for the sake of quietness. In later years my
father used to laugh over the surpassing ugliness of the
furniture, carpets, &c., of the Gower Street house. The only
redeeming feature was a better garden than most London
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
inhabitants.

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 ; and if
one is quiet in London, there is nothing like its quietness —
there is a grandeur about its smoky fogs, and the dull distant
sounds of cabs and coaches ; in fact you may perceive I am
becoming a thorough-paced Cockney, and I glory in thoughts
that I shall be here for the next six months."

The entries of ill health in the Diary increase in number
during these years, and as a consequence the holidays
become longer and more frequent. From April 26 to May 13,

* Daughter of Josiah Wedgwood of Maer, and grand-daughter of the
founder of the Etruria Pottery Works.

300 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1839:.

1839, he was at Maer and Shrewsbury. Again, from
August 23 to October 2 he was away from London at
Maer, Shrewsbury, 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 nothing 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 feeling for a young baby, for he wrote to Fox
(July 1840) : " He [i.e. the baby] is so charming that I cannot,
pretend to any modesty. I defy anybody to flatter us on
our baby, for I defy any one to say anything in its praise of
which we are not fully conscious. ... I had not the smallest
conception there was so much in a five-month baby. You-
will perceive 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 1841, "after more than thirteen months' interval." His.
other scientific work consisted of a contribution to the
Geological 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 Zoology of the Beagle, i.e. the notice of the habits and
ranges of the birds which were described by Gould.]

* July 1877-

f ' CIcol. Soc. 1'roc.' iii. 1842, and ' Geol. Soc. Trans.' vi.

1840.] HEALTH. 301

C. Darwin to C. Lyell.

Wednesday morning [February 1840].

MY DEAR LYELL,

Many thanks for your kind note. I will send for the
Scotsman. Dr. Holland thinks he has found out what is the
matter with me, and now hopes he shall be able to set me
going again. Is it not mortifying, it is now nine weeks since
I have 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. I 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 is.
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.

* * » * #

[In a letter to Fox (January 1841) he shows that his
" Species work " was still occupying his mind : —

" If you attend at all to Natural History I 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 be so-
entitled ; the smallest contributions thankfully accepted ;
descriptions of offspring of all crosses between all domestic
birds and animals, dogs, cats, &c., &c., very valuable. Don't.
forget, if your half-bred African cat should die that I should
be very much obliged for its carcase sent up in a 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."

302 LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE. [1842.

Later in the year (September) he writes to Fox about his
health, and also with reference to his plan of moving into the
country : — •

" I have steadily been gaining ground, and really believe
now I shall 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 very tired in the evenings, and am
not able to go out at that time, or hardly to receive my
nearest relations ; but my life ceases to be burdensome now
that I can 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 last proof corrected in May. He
thus writes of the work in his diary : —

" I commenced this work three years and seven months
ago. Out of this period about twenty months (besides work
during Beagtes voyage) has been spent on it, and besides
it, I have only compiled the Bird part of Zoology ; Appendix
to Journal, paper on 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 as " Notes on the effects produced by the ancient
glaciers of Caernarvonshire, and on the Boulders transported
by floating Ice." f

* A notice of the Coral Reef f 'Philosophical Magazine,' 1842,
work appeared in the 'Geograph. p. 352.
Soc. Journal,' xii. p. 115.

1842.] ANCIENT GLACIERS. 303

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.] .

* Charles Darwin, 'Nature' Series, p. 23.

( 304 )

CHAPTER VIII.

RELIGION.

'[THE history of this part of my father's life may justly include
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
M'ith a view to publication.*

I believe that his reticence arose from several causes. He
felt strongly that a man's religion is an essentially private
matter, and one concerning himself alone. This is indicated
by the following extract from a letter of 1879 : — f

" What my own views may be is a question of no con-
sequence to any one but myself. But, as you ask, I 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 exception may be men- be published in the Index.
tioned, a few words of concurrence f Addressed to Mr. J. Fordyce,

•with Dr. Abbott's 'Truths for the and published by him in his 'Aspects

Times,1 which my father allowed to of Scepticism,' 1883.

RELIGION. 305

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
religion is shown in a letter to Dr. F. E. Abbott, 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," he goes on to say: "With
: respect to my former notes to you, I quite forget their
•contents. I have to write many letters, and can reflect but
little on what I write ; but I fully believe and hope that
I have never written a word, which at the time I 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 cautiously put. It never occurred to me that
you would wish to print any extract from my notes : if it
.had, I would have kept a copy. I put 'private' from habit,
• only as yet partially acquired, 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 like to do so, I will at once say whether
I should have any objection. I feel in some degree unwilling
to express myself publicly on religious subjects, as I do not
feel that I have thought deeply enough to justify any
publicity."

I may also quote from another letter to Dr. Abbott
(Nov. 1 6, 1871), in which my father gives more fully his
reasons for not feeling competent to write on religious and
moral subjects : —

" I can say with entire truth that I feel honoured by your
request that I should become a contributor to the Index,

306 RELIGION.

and am much obliged for the draft. I 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
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 I 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 I can do nothing whatever. I have thus, also, lost two-
whole consecutive months this season. Owing to this weak-
ness, and my head being often giddy, I 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 :
whatever I have done in science has solely been by long
pondering, patience and industry.

" Now I have never systematically thought much on religion
in relation to science, or on morals in relation to society ; and
without steadily keeping my mind on such subjects for a
long period, I am really incapable of writing anything worth
sending to the Index?

He was more than once asked to give his views on religion,
and he had, as a rule, no objection to doing so in a private
letter. Thus in answer to a Dutch student, he wrote
(April 2, 1873):-

" I am sure you will excuse my writing at length, when I
tell you that I have long been much out of health, and am
now staying away from my home for rest.

" It is impossible to answer your question briefly ; and I am
not sure that I could do so, 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, seems to me the chief argument for the
existence of God ; but whether^ this is an argument of real
value, I have never been able to decide. I am aware that if
we admit a first cause, the mind still craves to know whence

RELIGION. 307

it came, and how it arose. Nor can I overlook the difficulty
from the immense amount of suffering through the world. I
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 safest conclusion seems to me that the whole subject
is beyond the scope of man's intellect ; but man can do
his duty."

Again in 1879 he was applied to by a German student, in
a similar manner. The letter was answered by a member of
my father's family, who wrote : —

" Mr. Darwin begs me to say that he receives so many
letters, that he cannot answer them all.

" He considers that the theory of Evolution is quite
compatible with the belief in a 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, who
again wrote to my father, and received from him the following
reply : —

" I am much engaged, an old man, and out of health, and
I cannot spare time to answer your questions fully, — nor
indeed can they be answered. Science 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,
I 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 much about
religion. Whilst on board the Beagle I was quite orthodox,
* Oct. 1836 to Jan. 1839.

VOL. I. Y

308 RKLIGION.

and I remember being heartily laughed at by several of the
officers (though themselves orthodox) for quoting the Bible as.
an unanswerable authority on some point of morality. I
suppose it was the novelty of the argument that amused,
them. But I had gradually come by this time, i.e. 1836
to 1839, to sec that the Old Testament was no more to be
trusted than the sacred books of the Hindoos. The question
then continually 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 con-
nected with the belief in Vishnu, Siva, &c., as Christianity is-
connected with the Old Testament? This appeared to me
utterly incredible.

" By further reflecting that the clearest evidence 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 credulous to a degree almost incomprehensible by us, —
that the Gospels cannot be proved to have been written
simultaneously with the events, — that they differ in many
important details, far too important, as it seemed to me,
to be admitted as 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 I was very unwilling to give up my belief ; I feel
sure of this, for I can well remember often and often inventing
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 difficult, with free

RELIGION. 309

scope given to my imagination, to invent evidence which
would suffice to convince me. Thus disbelief crept over me at
a very slow rate, but was at last complete. The rate was so
slow that I felt no distress.

"Although I did not think much about the existence of
a personal God until a considerably later period of my life,
I 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,
now that the law of natural selection has been discovered.
We can no longer argue that, for instance, the beautiful hinge
of a bivalve shell must have been made by an intelligent
being, like the hinge of a door 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 ' Variation of Domesticated Animals and Plants/ *
and the argument there given has never, as far as I can see,
been answered.

" But passing over the endless beautiful adaptations which
we everywhere meet with, it may be asked how can the gene-
rally beneficent arrangement of the world be accounted for ?
Some writers indeed are 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-
ness ; whether the world as a whole is a good or bad one.

* My father asks whether we are shadow of reason can be assigned
to believe that the forms are pre- for the belief that variations, alike
ordained of the broken fragments in nature and the result of the same
of rock tumbled from a precipice general laws, which have been the
which are fitted together by man groundwork through natural selec-
to build his houses. If not, why tion of the formation of the most
should we believe that the varia- perfectly adapted animals in the
tions of domestic animals or plants world, man included, were intention-
are preordained for the sake of the ally and specially guided."—' The
breeder? "But if we give up the Variation of Animals and Plants,'
principle in one case, ... no ist Edit. vol. ii. p. 431. — F. D.

Y 2

3IO RELIGION.

According to myjudgmcnt happiness decidedly prcvails,though
this would be very difficult to prove. If the truth of this con-
clusion 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 extreme degree,
they would neglect to propagate their kind ; but we have no
reason to believe that this has ever, or at least often occurred.
Some other considerations, moreover, lead to the belief that all
sentient beings have been formed so as to enjoy, as a general
rule, happiness.

" Every one who believes, as I do, that all the corporeal and
mental organs (excepting those which are neither advantageous
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 compete suc-
cessfully with other beings, and thus increase in number. 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 long 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. Plea-
surable 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 or mind, — in the pleasure of our daily meals, and
especially in the pleasure derived from sociability, and from
loving our families. The sum of such pleasures as these,

RELIGION. 311

which arc habitual or frequently recurrent, give, as I can
hardly doubt, to most sentient beings an excess of happiness
over misery, although many occasionally suffer much. Such
suffering is quite compatible with the belief in Natural Selec-
tion, 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 much suffering in the world no one disputes.
Some have 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 with
that of all other sentient beings, and they often suffer greatly
without any moral improvement. This very old argument
from the existence of suffering against the existence of an
intelligent First Cause seems to me a strong one ; whereas,
as 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 exist-
ence 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 grandeur of a Brazilian forest, "it is not possible
to give an adequate 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 I am like a man

312 RKLIGH'X.

who has become colour-blind, and the universal belief by men
of the existence of redness makes my present loss of percep-
tion of not the least value as evidence. This argument would
be a valid one if all men of all races had the same inward
conviction of the existence of one God ; but we know that
this is very far from being the case. Therefore I cannot see
that such 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 con-
nected 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 a belief it is, as the con-
sideration of the view now held by most physicists, namely,
that the sun with all the planets will in time grow 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
sentient beings are doomed to complete annihilation after
such long-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, con-
nected with the reason, and not with the feelings, impresses 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 I feel com-
pelled to look to a First Cause having an intelligent mind in

RELIGION. 313

some degree analogous to that of man ; and I deserve to be
called a Theist. This conclusion was strong in my mind
about the time, as far as I can remember, when I wrote the
4 Origin of Species ; ' and it is since that time that it has very
gradually, with many fluctuations, become weaker. But then
arises the doubt, can the mind of man, which has, as 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 abstruse
problems. The mystery of the beginning of all things is
insoluble by us ; and I 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
* Macmillan's Magazine,' for July 1861.]

C. Danvin to Miss Julia Wedgwood.

July ii [1861].

Some one has sent us ' Macmillan ' ; and 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. I 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
several 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 — some-
thing like thinking on the origin of evil, to which you allude.
The mind refuses to look at this universe, being what it is,
* The ' Origin of Species.'

3 H RELIGION.

without having been designed ; yet, where one would most
expect 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 each 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 I 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 amusement, he does not know what to
answer ; and if he, or 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 I can see no
reason why he should rank the accumulated variations by
which the beautifully adapted woodpecker has been formed,
as providentially designed. For it would be easy to imagine
the enlarged crop 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 care to hear them, I

know not.

* • * * *

[On the subject of design, he wrote (July 1860) to Dr.
Gray :

" One word more on ' designed laws ' and ' undesigned
results.' I see a bird which I want for food, take my gun and

* Dr. Gray's rain-drop metaphor what multitudes of rain-drops fall

occurs in the Essay ' Darwin and back into the ocean — are as much

his Reviewers ' (' Danviniana,' p. without a final cause as the incipient

157) : "The whole animate life of a varieties which come to nothing!

country depends absolutely upon Does it therefore follow that the

the vegetation, the vegetation upon rains which are bestowed upon the

the rain. The moisture is furnished soil with such rule and average

by the ocean, is raised by the sun's regularity were not designed to

heat from the ocean's surface, and support vegetable and animal life?"
is wafted inland by the winds. But

RELIGION.

315

kill it, I do this designedly. An innocent and good man stands
under a tree and is killed by a flash of lightning. Do you
believe (and I really should like to hear) that God designedly
killed this man ? Many or 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 par-
ticular swallow should snap up that particular gnat at that
particular instant ? I believe that the man and the gnat are
in the same predicament. If the death of neither man nor
gnat are designed, I see no good reason to believe that their
first birth or production should be necessarily designed."]

C. Darwin to W. Graham.

Down, July 3rd, 1881.

DEAR SIR,

I hope that 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 I am old
I read very slowly. It is a very long time since any other
book has interested me so much. The work must have cost
you several years and much hard labour with full leisure for
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 law, yet taking the laws as
we now know them, and look at the moon, where the law of
gravitation — and no doubt of the conservation of energy — of
the atomic theory, &c. &c., hold good, and I cannot see that
there is then necessarily any purpose. Would there be
purpose if the lowest organisms alone, destitute of con-

3l6 RELIGION.

sciousness existed in the moon ? But I have had no practice
in abstract reasoning, and I may be all astray. Nevertheless
you have 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 convictions of a monkey's mind, if there are any con-
victions in such a mind ? Secondly, I think that I could
make somewhat 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 importance, at least in the case of Science. Lastly,
I could show fight on natural selection having done and
•doing more for the progress of civilization than you seem
inclined to admit. Remember what risk the nations of Europe
ran, 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 distant date, what an endless number of the lower
races will have been eliminated by the higher civilized races
throughout the world. But I will write no more, and not
even mention the many points in your work which have

* The Duke of Argyll (' Good purposes in nature — I said it was

Words,' Ap. 1885, p. 244) has re- impossible to look at these without

corded a few words on this subject, seeing that they were the effect and

spoken by my father in the last the expression of mind. I shall

year of his life. "... in the course never forget Mr. Darwin's answer,

•of that conversation I said to Mr. He looked at me very hard and

Darwin, with reference to some of said, ' Well, that often comes over

his own remarkable works on the me with overwhelming force ; but

* Fertilisation of Orchids,' and upon at other times," and he shook his

'* The Earthworms,' and various head vaguely, adding, " it seems to

other observations he made of the go away.' "
wonderful contrivances for certain

RELIGION. 317

mnuch interested me. I have indeed cause to apologise for
troubling you with my impressions, and my sole excuse is
tthe excitement in my mind which your book has aroused.

I beg leave to remain,
Dear Sir,

Yours faithfully and obliged

CHARLES DARWIX.

[My father spoke little on these subjects, and I can contribute
mothing 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, however, be
gathered from occasional remarks in his letters.]*

* Dr. Aveling has published an atheist is one who, without denying
.account of a conversation with my the existence of God, is without
father. I think that the readers of God, inasmuch as he is unconvinced
this pamphlet (' The Religious of the existence of a Deity. My
Views of Charles Darwin,' Free father's replies implied his prefer-
Thought Publishing Company, ence for the unaggressive attitude
1883) may be misled into seeing of an Agnostic. Dr. Aveling seems
more resemblance than really (p. 5) to regard the absence of
existed between the positions of aggressiveness in my father's views
my father and Dr. Aveling : and I as distinguishing them in an un-
say this in spite of my conviction essential manner from his own.
ithat Dr. Aveling gives quite fairly But, in my judgment, it is precisely
his impressions of my father's views. differences of this kind which dis-
Dr. Aveling tried to show that the tinguish him so completely from
.terms " Agnostic " and " Atheist " the class of thinkers to which Dr.
•were practically equivalent — that an Aveling belongs.

( 313 )

CHAPTER IX.

LIFE AT DOWN.
1842-1854.

" My life goes on like clockwork, and I am fixed on the spot where I
shall end it."

Letter to Captain Fitz-Roy, October, 1846.

[WITH the view of giving, in the next volume, a connected
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 quiet development of his theory of evolution during this
period.

On Sept. 14, 1842, 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
ordinary social duties, as suiting his health so "badly that

* I must not omit to mention a friend and servant, for forty years,

member of the household who and became, as Sir Joseph Hooker

accompanied him. This was his once remarked to me, " an integral

butler, Joseph Parslow, who re- part of the family, and felt to be

mained in the family, a valued such by all visitors at the house."

THE VILLAGE. 319

we 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., 1842):—

" I hope by going up to town for a night every fortnight or
three weeks, to keep up my communication with scientific
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 nearest 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
before 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 thus
seemed to them to counterbalance its somewhat more obvious
faults. It 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 a 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, a village, communicating

320 LIFE AT DOWN. jETAT. 33~45-

with the main lines of traffic, only by stony tortuous lanes,
may well have been enabled to preserve its retired character.
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, of which the memory still existed
when my father settled in Down. The village stands on
solitary upland country, 500 to 600 feet above the sea, — 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
in front of the little flint-built church. It is a place where
new-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
funerals ; but as a boy I remember the purple or green
smocks of the men at church.

The house stands a quarter of a mile from the village,
and is built, like so 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 overlooked from the lane, and was
open, bleak, and desolate. One of my father's first under-
takings 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 excavated was used in making banks and
mounds round the lawn : 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

THE HOUSE AT DOWN. FROM A DRAWING BY MR. ALFRED PARSONS.
ENGRAVED FOR THE 'CENTURY MAGAZINE,' JANUARY 1883.

To fact p. 3»o, Vol. I.

THE HOUSE. 321

stucco, but the chief improvement effected was the building
of a large 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
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 a pleasant
field, scattered with fair-sized oaks and ashes. From this
field a strip was cut off and converted into a kitchen garden,,
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 : —

" I will tell you all the trifling particulars about myself that
I can think of. We are now exceedingly busy with the first
brick laid 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 very 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 : I manage only a couple of hours per day,
and that not very regularly. It is uphill work writing books,
which cost money in publishing, and which are not read even
by geologists. I 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 cuts us off from the low country of Kent,
and between us and the escarpment there is not a village or
gentleman's house, but only great woods and arable fields (the
latter in sadly preponderant numbers), so that we arc abso-

322 LIKE AT DOWN. .ETAT. 33-45.

lutcly at the extreme verge of the world. The whole country
is intersected by foot-paths ; but the surface over the chalk is
clayey 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
have preserved of all my English insects), and was admiring
Panagceiis Crux-major : it is 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. I am
very much stronger corporeally, but am little better in being
able to stand mental fatigue, or rather excitement, so that I
cannot dine out or receive visitors, except relations with whom
I can pass some time after dinner in silence."

I 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 Fitz-Roy probably interfered with its general
popularity. Thus Lyell wrote to him in 1838 ('Lyell's Life,'
ii. p. 43), " I assure you my father is quite enthusiastic about
your journal .... 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 fettered by the other volumes, for,
although he should equally buy it, he feared so many of
the public would be checked from doing so." In a notice
of the three voyages in the 'Edinburgh Review' (July
1839), there is nothing leading a reader to believe that

GEOLOGY. 323

he would find it more attractive than its fellow-volumes.
And, as a fact, it did not become widely known until it was
separately published in 1845. It may be noted, however,
that the 'Quarterly 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 freshness of heart which is thrown over these virgin
pages of a strong intellectual man and an acute and deep
observer."

The German translation (1844) of the 'Journal' received a
favourable notice in No. 12 of the ' Heidelberger Jahrbiicher
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. Dieffen-
bach . . . has translated my ' Journal ' into German, and I
must, with unpardonable vanity, boast that it was at the
instigation of Liebig and Humboldt."

The geological work of which he speaks 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 ' Geo-
logical Observations on the Volcanic Islands, visited during
the voyage of H.M.S. Beagle, 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 Beagle] 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 Geikie'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. 17, "This well-known treatise, the most original of all its
* Charles Darwin, 'Nature' Series, 1882.

VOL. I. Z

324 LIFE AT DOWN. ,ETAT. 33-4$.

author's geological memoirs, has become one of the classics of
geological literature. The origin of those remarkable rings
of coral-rock in mid-ocean has given rise to much speculation,
but no satisfactory solution of the problem had been proposed.
After visiting many of them, and examining also coral reefs
that fringe islands and continents, he offered a theory which
for simplicity and grandeur strikes every reader with astonish-
ment. 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 lightly 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."

It is interesting to see 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.

" I am 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

* To Sir John Herschel, May 24, r83;. 'Life of Sir Charles Lyell,'

vol. ii. p. 12.

CORAL REEFS. 325

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 reason 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 elevation 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 criti-
cism. The book was not reviewed in the ' Quarterly Review '
till 1847, when a favourable notice was 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 geology of this type. Even
ten years before, in 1837, Lyell * says, "people are now much
better prepared to believe Darwin when he advances proofs
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 observa-
tions on South America (1846), but the gradual change in
receptivity of the geological mind must have been favourable
to all his geological work. Nevertheless, Lyell seems at first
not to have expected any ready acceptance of the Coral
theory ; thus he wrote to my father in 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 believed till you are growing
bald like me, with hard work and vexation at the incredulity
of the world."

The second part of the ' Geology 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. 1 8) : —

* ' Life of Sir Charles Lyell,' vol. ii. p. 6.

Z 2

326 LIFE AT DOWN. yETAT. 33-4$.

" Full of detailed observations, 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
Prevost, 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." Professor Geikic
•continues (p. 21) : " He is one of the earliest writers to recog-
mize 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 account of
'Volcanic Islands' is the prodigious extent to which they
lhave 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 Islands ' :
it cost me eighteen months ! ! ! and I have heard of very 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 Observations
on South America,' may be mentioned here, although it was
not published until 1846. " In this work the author embodied
all the materials collected by him for the illustration of South
American Geology, save some which had been published
elsewhere. One of the most important features of the book
was the evidence which it brought forward to prove the slow

WORK OF THE PERIOD. 327

interrupted elevation of the South American Continent
during a recent geological period." *

Of this book my father wrote to Lyell : — " My volume will
be about 240 pages, dreadfully dull, yet much condensed. I
think whenever you have time to look through it, you wilB
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 Geikic,.
while pointing out that it was not " of the same epoch-making
kind as his biological researches," remarks that he "gave a
powerful impulse to " the general reception of Lyell's teaching
" by the way in which he gathered from all parts of the world"
facts in its support."

WORK OF THE PERIOD 1842 TO 1854.

The work of these years may be roughly divided into a
period of geology from 1842 to 1846, and one of zoology
from 1846 onwards.

I extract from his diary notices of the time spent on his
geological books and on his ' Journal.'

'Volcanic Islands.' Summer of 1842 to January, 1844.

' Geology of South America.' July, 1844, to April, 1845.

Second Edition of ' The Journal,' October, 1845, to October,
1846.

The time between October, 1846, and October, 1854, was
practically given up to working at the Cirripedia (Barnacles) ;.
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 Palaeontographical Society In 1851 and 1854.

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.

* Geikie, loc. cit.

328 LIFE AT DOWN. /liTAT. 33-4$.

" Brief Descriptions of several Terrestrial Planariae, &c.,"
Ann. Nat. Hist, xiv., 1844, pp. 241-251.

"An Account of the Fine Dust* which often Falls on
Vessels in the Atlantic Ocean," Geol. Soc. Journ. ii., 1846,
pp. 26-30.

" On the Geology of the Falkland Islands," Geol. Soc.
Journ. ii., 1846, pp. 267-274.

" On the Transportal of Erratic Boulders, &c.," Geol. Soc.
Journ. iv. 1848, pp. 315-323.!

The article " Geology," in the Admiralty Manual of Scientific
Enquiry (1849), pp. 156-195. This was written in the spring
of 1848.

" On British Fossil Lepadidae," 'Geol. Soc. Journ.' vi., 1850,
pp. 439-440.

"Analogy of the structure of some Volcanic Rocks with
that of Glaciers," ' Edin. Roy. Soc. Proc.' ii., 1851, 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 : —

* A sentence occurs in this paper [1847], has a long paper on it. He
of interest, as showing that the says : ' Some glacialists have ven-
author was alive to the importance tured to explain the transportation
of all means of distribution : — " The of boulders even in the situation of
fact that particles of this size have those now referred to, by imagining
been brought at least 330 miles from that they were transported on ice
the land is interesting as bearing floes,' &c. He treats this view,
on the distribution of Cryptogamic and the scratching of rocks by ice-
plants." bergs, as almost absurd ... he has

f An extract from a letter to finally stirred me up so, that (with-
Lyell, 1847, is of interest in connec- out you would answer him) I think
tion with this essay : — " Would you I will send a paper in opposition to
be so good (if you know it) as to the same Journal. I can thus in-
put Maclaren's address on the en- troduce some old remarks of mine,
closed letter and post it. It is and some new, and will insist on
chiefly to enquire in what paper he your capital observations in N.
has described the Boulders on America. It is a bore to stop one's
Arthur's Seat. Mr. D.Milne in the work, but he has made me quite
last Edinburgh ' New Phil. Journal ' wroth "

WORK OF THE PERIOD. 329

" i. Great breadth of view. No one who had not practically
studied and profoundly reflected on the questions discussed
could have written it

" 2. 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.

"3. Interesting and sympathetic treatment. The author
at once puts his readers into harmony with him. He gives
them enough of information to show how delightful the
field is to which he invites them, and how much they might
accomplish in it. There is a broad sketch of the subject
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 1 849, 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.' Darwin
gives is as needful and valuable now as when it was given.
It is 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 father 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 Manual."

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
autumn of 1842, when he came to Down, and the end of
1854.

330 LIFE AT DOWN. ^-TAT. 33-4$.

1843, July* — Week at Maer and Shrewsbury.
„ October. — Twelve days at Shrewsbury.

1844, April. — Week at Macr and Shrewsbury.
» Juty* — Twelve days at Shrewsbury.

1845, September 15. — Six weeks, " Shrewsbury, Lincolnshire

York, the Dean of Manchester, Waterton, Chats-
worth."

1846, February. — Eleven days at Shrewsbury.
„ July. — Ten days at Shrewsbury.

„ September. — Ten days at Southampton, &c, for the
British Association.

1847, February. — Twelve days at Shrewsbury.

„ June. — Ten days at Oxford, &c., for the British As-
sociation.
„ October. — Fortnight at Shrewsbury.

1848, May. — Fortnight at Shrewsbury.
„ July. — Week at Swanage.

„ October. — Fortnight at Shrewsbury.

„ November. — Eleven days at Shrewsbury.

1849, March to June. — Sixteen weeks at Malvern.

„ September. — Eleven days at Birmingham for the
British Association.

1850, June. — Week at Malvern.

„ August. — Week at Leith Hill, the house of a relative.
„ October. — Week at the house of another relative.

1851, March. — Week at Malvern.

„ April. — Nine days at Malvern.
„ July. — Twelve days in London.

1852, March. — Week at Rugby and Shrewsbury.

„ September. — Six days at the house of a relative.

1853, July. — Three weeks at Eastbourne.

„ August. — Five days at the military Camp at Chobham.

1854, M 'arc/i. — 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.

1 843.] CAPTAIN FITZ-ROY. 331

It 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.]

LETTERS.
C. Darwin to R. Fits-Roy.

Down [March, 3ist, 1843].

DEAR FiTZ-ROY, — I read yesterday with surprise and the
greatest interest, your appointment as Governor of New
Zealand. I do not know whether to congratulate you on it,
but I am sure I may the Colony, on possessing your zeal and
energy. I am most anxious to know whether the report is
true, for I cannot bear the thoughts of your leaving the
country without seeing you once again ; the past is often in
my memory, and I feel that I owe to you much bygone enjoy-
ment, and the whole destiny of my life, which (had my health
been stronger) would have been one full of satisfaction to me.
During the last three months I have never once gone up to
London without intending to call in the hopes of seeing Mrs.
Fitz-Roy 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 I 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 occupied. 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. I shall
come up next week for one or two days ; could you see me
for even five minutes, if I called early on Thursday morning,

332 LIFE AT DOWN. ^TAT. 33-4$. [1843.

viz. at nine or ten o'clock, or at whatever hour (if you keep
early ship hours) you finish your breakfast Pray remember
me very kindly to Mrs. Fitz-Roy, who I trust is able to look
at her long voyage with boldness.

Believe me, dear Fitz-Roy,

Your ever truly obliged,

CHARLES DARWIN.

[A quotation from another letter (1846) to Fitz-Roy maybe
worth giving, as showing my father's affectionate remembrance
of his old Captain.

" Farewell, dear Fitz-Roy, I 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
<jyes."]

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

[Down, September 5, 1843.]

Monday morning.

MY DEAR 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 Keyserling 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 evidently saw he had looked
carefully at nothing. I feel certain about the glacier-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. I wish I had energy to come to
Delamere and go with you ; but as you observe, you might as

1844-] VESTIGES OF CREATION. 333

well ask St. Paul's. Whenever I give myself a 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,

C. DARWIN.

C. Danvin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, [1844?]

.... I have also read the ' Vestiges,' * but have been some-
what less amused at it than you appear to have been : the
writing and arrangement are certainly admirable, but his
geology strikes me as bad, and his zoology far worse. I
should be very much obliged, if at any future or leisure time
you could tell me on what you ground your doubtful belief in
imagination of a mother affecting her offspring.t I have
attended to the several statements scattered about, but do not

* 'The Vestiges of the Natural 1845 :" Have you read that strange,
History of Creation,' was published unphilosophical, but capitally-writ-
anonymously in 1844; it is now ten book, the 'Vestiges': it has
known to have been written by the made more talk than any work of
late Robert Chambers (see Intro- late, and has been by some attri-
duction to the 1 2th edition of the buted to me — at which I ought to
' Vestiges,' 1884). My father's copy be much flattered and unflattered.'
gives signs of having been carefully f This refers to the case of a
read, a long list of marked passages relative of Sir J. Hooker's, who in-
being pinned in at the end. One use- sisted that a mole, which appeared
ful lesson he seems to have learned on one of her children, was the
from it. He writes : " The idea of effect of fright upon herself on
a fish passing into a reptile, mon- having, before the birth of the
strous. I will not specify any genea- child, blotted with sepia a copy ot
logics— much too little known at Turner's ' Liber Studiorum ' that
present." He refers again to the had been lent to her with special
book in a letter to Fox, February, injunctions to be careful.

334 LIFE AT DOWN. VETAT. 33-45. [l844~5-

believe in more than accidental coincidences. W. Hunter told
my father, then in a lying-in hospital, that in many thousand
cases, he had asked the mother, before tier confinement, whether
anything had affected her imagination, and recorded the
answers ; and absolutely not one case came right, though,
when the child was anything remarkable, they afterwards
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. Danvin to J. M. Herbert.

Down, [1844 or 1845].

MY DEAR HERBERT, — I was very glad to see your hand-
writing and hear a bit of news about you. Though you cannot
come here this autumn, I do hope you and Mrs. Herbert will
come in the winter, and we will have lots of talk of old times,
and lots of Beethoven.

I have little or rather nothing to say about myself ; we live
like clock-work, and in what most people would consider the
dullest possible manner. I have of late been slaving extra
hard, to the great discomfiture of wretched digestive 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
geological descriptions, lay not such a flattering unction on
my soul * for it is incredible. I have long discovered that
geologists 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

* On the same subject he wrote propose to read it — it is purely

to Fitz-Roy : " I have sent my geological. I said to my brother,

1 South American Geology ' to Dover ' You will of course read it,' and his

Street, and you will get it, no doubt, answer was, ' Upon my life, I would

in the course of time. You do not sooner even buy it.' "
know what you threaten when you

1 845.] SIR J. D. HOOKER. 335

some kind. Geology is at present very oral, and what I here
say is to a great extent quite true. But I am giving you a
discussion as long as a chapter in the odious book itself.

I have lately been to Shrewsbury, and found my father
surprisingly well and cheerful.

Believe me, my dear old friend, ever yours,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, Monday [February loth, 1845].

MY DEAR HOOKER, — 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. I am astonished at your news, and I
must condole with you in your present view of the Professor-
ship,* and most heartily deplore it on my own account. There
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 our lives. It is a heavy disappointment ; and
in a mere selfish point of view, as aiding me in my work, your
Joss is indeed irreparable. But, on the other hand, I cannot
doubt that you take at present a desponding, 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 so many indifferent workers,
and so few readers, that it is a high advantage, in a purely
scientific point of view, for a 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

* Sir J. D. Hooker was a candidate for the Professorship of Botany at
Edinburgh University.

336 LIFE AT DOWN. ^TAT. 33-45. [1845.

and dull listeners which you expect for your audience. Re-
flect what a satisfaction and honour it would be to make a
good botanist — with your disposition you will be to many
what Henslow was at Cambridge to me and others, a most
kind friend and guide. Then what a fine garden, and how
good a Public Library ! why, Forbes always regrets the
advantages of Edinburgh for work : think of the inestimable
advantage of getting within a short walk of those noble rocks
and hills and sandy shores near Edinburgh ! Indeed, I
cannot pity you much, though I pity myself exceedingly in
your loss. Surely lecturing will, in 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 I thought your Professorship would stop your work, I
should wish it and all the good worldly consequences at el
Diavolo. I know I shall live to see you the first authority in
Europe on that grand subject, that almost keystone of the
laws of creation, Geographical Distribution. Well, there is
one comfort, you will be at Kew, no doubt, every year, so I
shall finish by forcing down your throat my sincere congratu-
lations. Thanks for all your news. I grieve to hear Hum-
boldt 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 give
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 his ' Personal 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 your 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

1 845.] THE 'JOURNAL/ 337-

not, however, mean proof plates ; I value them, as 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 following
letter refers, was completed between April 25th and August
25th. 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
edition to Mr. Murray for I5O/.

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 [July, 1845].

MY DEAR LYELL, — 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,f and I trust that this cannot be disagreeable. I have
long wished, not so much for your sake, as for my own feelings
of honesty, to acknowledge more plainly than by mere reference,
how much I geologically owe you. Those authors, however,

* No doubt proof-sheets. ledgment that the chief part of
t The dedication of the second whatever scientific merit this Jour-
edition of the 'Journal of Re- nal and the other works of the
searches,' is as follows : — " To Author may possess, has been de-
Charles Lyell, Esq., F.R.S., this rived from studying the well-known
second edition is dedicated with and admirable ' Principles of Geo-
grateful pleasure — as an acknow- logy.'"

338 LIFE AT DOWN. ^TAT. 33-4$. [184$.

who like you, educate people's minds as well as teach them
special facts, can never, I should think, have full justice done
them except by posterity, for the mind thus insensibly im-
proved 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 exceedingly small that I
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, as 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. I think I have improved this edition, especially
the second part, which I 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. I do
not recollect anything added to the first part, long enough to
call your attention to ; there is a page of description of a very
curious breed of oxen in Banda Oriental. I should like you
to read the few last pages ; there is a little discussion on
extinction, which will not perhaps strike you as new, though
it has so struck me, and has placed in my mind all the
difficulties with respect to the causes of extinction, in the
same class with other difficulties which are generally quite
overlooked and undervalued by naturalists ; I ought, however,
to have made my discussion longer and shewn by facts, as I
easily could, how steadily every species must be checked in
its numbers.

I received your Travels * yesterday ; and I like exceedingly
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 interest
me, and how many passages will be scored. I am pleased to
find a good sprinkling of Natural History ; I shall be aston-
ished if it does not sell very largely. . . .

* 'Travels in North America,' 2 vols., 1845.

I84S-] LYELL'S 'NORTH AMERICA.' 339

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. Danvin to C. Lyell,

Down, Saturday [August ist, 1845].

MY DEAR LYELL, — I have been wishing to write to you for
a week past, but every five minutes' worth of strength has been
expended in getting out my second part.* Your note pleased
me a good deal more I dare say than my dedication did you,
and I thank you much for it. Your work has interested me
much, and I will give you my impressions, though, as I never
thought you would care to hear what I 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 would be with most (though
I have literally seen not one soul since reading it) regret at
there not being more of the non-scientific [parts]. I am not a
good judge, for I have read nothing, i.e. non-scientific about
North America, but the whole struck me as very new, fresh,
and 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 I suspect is compara-
tively rare.

Your slave discussion 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 nothing except that it gave me
some sleepless, most uncomfortable hours. Your account of
the religious state of the States particularly interested me ; I
am surprised throughout at your very proper boldness against
* Of the second edition of the ' Journal of Researches.'

VOL. I. 2 A

340 LIFE AT DOWN. jETAT. 33-4$. [1845.

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 does England shew itself! Your
apology (using the term, like the old religionists who meant
anything but an apology) for lectures, struck me as very
clever ; 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 I
had read about the ' Coalfields in North America,' I 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 I do
not know whether to an extent that at all signified. I missed
however, a good deal, some general heading to the chapters,
such as the two or three principal places visited. One has no
right to expect an author to write down to the zero of geogra-
phical ignorance of the reader ; but I not knowing a single
place, was occasionally rather plagued in tracing your course.
Sometimes in the beginning of a chapter, in one paragraph
your course was traced through a 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 ; I could not follow your engraved
track. I think in a second edition, interspaces here and there
of one line open, would be an improvement 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.
If your 'Principles ' had not met with such universal admiration,
I should have feared there would have been too much geology

I845-] SLAVERY.

341

in this for the general reader; certainly all that the most
clear and light style could do, has been done. To myself
the geology was an excellent, well-condensed, well-digested
resume of all that has been made out in North America, 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. I wish there had
been more Natural History ; I liked all the scattered frag-
ments. I have now given you an exact transcript of my
thoughts, but they are hardly worth your reading. . . .

C. Darwin to C. Lyell.

Down, August 2 5th [1845].

MY DEAR LYELL, — This is literally the first day on which
I have had any time to spare ; and I will amuse myself by
beginning a letter to you. . . .

I was delighted with your letter in which you touch on
Slavery ; I 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 myself. I
have exhaled myself with a paragraph or two in my Journal
on the sin of Brazilian slavery ; you perhaps will think that
it is in answer to you ; but such is not the case. I have
remarked on nothing which 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

* In the passage referred to, Lyell does not give his own views, but
those of a planter.

2 A 2

342 LIFE AT DOWN. /ETAT. 33-4$. [1845.

made me exclaim out. But I have broken my intention, and
so 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 Lindley
abides by the carbonic acid gas theory. By the way, I was
much pleased by Lindley picking out my extinction para-
graphs and giving them uncurtailed. To my mind, putting
the comparative rarity of existing species in the same category
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. . . .

I am 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
should rejoice to live to see you publish and discover another
stage below the Silurian — it would be the grandest step pos-
sible, I think. I am very glad to hear what progress Bunbury
is making in fossil Botany ; there is a fine hiatus for him to
fill up in this country. I will 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. . . .

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Shrewsbury, [1845 ?]

MY DEAR HOOKER, — 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 I most erroneously
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 be a

1 845-] WATERTON.

343

consolation to you. Proh pudorl I am vexed and indignant
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 having read
a few of your letters, I never once doubted the position you
will ultimately hold amongst European Botanists. I can think-
about nothing else, otherwise I should like [to] discuss
1 Cosmos '* with you. I trust you will pay me and my wife
a visit this autumn at Down. I shall be at Down on the 24th,
and till then moving about.

My dear Hooker, allow me to call myself

Your very true friend,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to C. Lyell.

October 8th [1845] Shrewsbury.

. . I have lately been taking a little tour to see a farm I have
purchased in Lincolnshire,! and then to York, where I 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 at my visit

* A translation of Humboldt's man to buy his quarter of an acre ;

1 Kosmos.' it makes one's blood burn with

f He speaks of his Lincolnshire indignation."

farm in a letter to Henslow (July J Hon. and Rev. W. Herbert.

4th) : — " I have bought a farm in The visit is mentioned in a letter to

Lincolnshire, and when I go there Dr. Hooker : — " I have been taking

this autumn, I mean to see what I a little tour, partly on business, and

can do in providing any cottage on visited the Dean of Manchester,

my small estate with gardens. It and had very much interesting talk

is a hopeless thing to look to, but with him on hybrids, sterility, and

I believe few things would do this variation, &c. &c. He is full of

country more good in future ages self-gained knowledge, but knows

than the destruction of primogeni- surprisingly little what others have

ture, so as to lessen the difference done on the same subjects. He is

in land-wealth, and make more very heterodox on ' species ' : not

small freeholders. How atrociously much better, as most naturalists

tmjust are the stamp laws, which would esteem it, than poor Mr.

render it so expensive for the poor Vestiges."

344 LIFE AT DOWN. /ETAT. 33-4$. [1845.

there. He is an amusing strange fellow ; at our early dinner,
our party consisted of two Catholic priests and two Mulat-
tresses ! He is past sixty years old, and the day before ran
down and caught a leveret in a turnip-field. It is a fine old
house, and the lake swarms with water-fowl. I 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-day 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. I have
been much interested with Sedgwick's review ; * though I
find it is 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 I had put them to myself as feebly as
milk and water. Have you read ' Cosmos ' yet ? The English
translation is wretched, and the semi-metaphysico-politico
descriptions in the first part are barely intelligible ; but I
think the volcanic discussion well worth your attention, it
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 I finish it. I shall be very anxious to
hear how you get on from the Homers, but you must not think
of wasting your time by writing to me. We shall miss, indeed,

* Sedgwick's review of the ' Vestiges of Creation' in the ' Edinburgh
Review,' July 1845.

1846.] BOTANY. 345

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,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to y. D. Hooker.

Down, Farnborough, Kent,
Thursday, September, 1846.

MY DEAR HOOKER,— I hope this letter will catch you at
Clifton, but I have been prevented writing by being unwell,
and having had the Homers here as visitors, which, with my
abominable press-work, has fully occupied my time. It is,
indeed, a long time since we wrote to each other ; though, I
beg to tell you, that I wrote last, but what about I cannot
remember, except, I 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 a Daisy from
a Dandelion to a professed Botanist. . . .

I cannot remember what papers have given me the
impression, 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,
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 doubt, will know to what I refer. By-
the-way, there are some such cases in Herbert's paper in the
'Horticultural Journal.'f Have you read it : it struck me as
extremely original, and bears directly on your present re-
searches.} To a non-botanist the chalk has the most peculiar
aspect of any flora in England ; why will you not come here
to make your observations ? We go to Southampton, if my

* Hooker's Antarctic Botany. } Sir J. Hooker was at this time

f 'Journal of the Horticultural attending to polymorphism, vari-
Society,' 1846. ability, &c.

346 I. IKE AT DOWN. yETAT. 33-4$.

courage and stomach do not fail, for the Brit. Assoc. (Do
you not consider it your duty to be there ?) And why cannot
you come here afterwards and work ? . . . .

THE MONOGRAPH OF THE CIRRIPEDIA,
October 1846 to October 1854.

[Writing to Sir J. D. Hooker in 1845, my father says : " I
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
Cirripedes. 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,
I 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
Cirripede I had to examine and dissect many of the com-
mon forms ; and this gradually led me on to take up the
whole group." In later years he seems to have felt some
doubt as to the value of these eight years of work, — for
instance when he wrote in his Autobiography — " My work
was of considerable use to me, when I had to discuss in the
' Origin of Species ' the principles of a natural classification.
Nevertheless I doubt whether the work was worth the con-
sumption of so much time." Yet I learn from Sir J. D.
Hooker that he certainly recognised at the time its value to
himself as systematic training. Sir Joseph writes to me :
41 Your father recognised 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 naturalist after, and only after the Cirripede

CIRRIPEDES.

347

work. That he was a thinker all along is true enough, and
there is a vast deal in his writings previous to the Cirripedes
that a trained naturalist could but emulate. . . . He often
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 merits 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, provided that their work was honest, and good of its
kind. I have always regarded it as one of the finest traits cf
his character, — this generous appreciation of the hod-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 : —

" In 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.

" Like the rest of us, he had no proper training in biological
science, and it has always struck me as a remarkable instance
of his scientific insight, that he saw the necessity of giving
himself such training, and of his courage, that 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
statements of fact in natural science, as if they were not only
correct, but exhaustive ; as if they might be dealt with
deductively, 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 observa-
tion 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.

348 LIFE AT DOWN. ^ETAT. 33-45.

" Your father was building a 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 Palaeontology, 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 rela-
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 ad-
mirable piece of work, and constituted a great addition to
positive knowledge, but still more in the circumstance that it
was a 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 prac-
ticable, 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.' But of course in
those days it was almost impossible for him to find facilities
for such work."

No one can look at the two volumes on the recent Cirri-
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 con-
tain. The forty plates, some of them with thirty figures,
and the fourteen pages of index in the two volumes to-
gether, give some rough idea of the labour spent on the

CIRRIPEDES. 349

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, or, 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." f It is interesting to
learn from his diary the amount of time which he gave to
different genera. Thus the genus Chthamalus, the descrip-
tion of which occupies twenty-two pages, occupied him for
thirty-six days ; Coronula 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 dis-
secting a little animal about the size of a pin's head, from
the Chonos archipelago, 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 ?) :
— "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 so long employed
in writing my old geological observations, it is delightful to
use one's eyes and fingers again." It was, in fact, a return to
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 dissec-
tion of marine animals, especially of Crustacea, must have
been of value to him as training for his Cirripede work.
Most of his work was done with the simple dissecting micro-

* The reader unacquainted with Romanes' article on " Charles Uar-
Zoology will find some account of win "('Nature' Series, 1882).
the more interesting results in Mr. t Vol. i. p. 3.

350 LIFE AT DOWN. .KTAT. 33~45-

scope — but it was the need which he found for higher powers
that induced him, in 1846, to buy a compound microscope.
He wrote to Hooker : — " When I was drawing with L., I
was so delighted with the appearance of the objects, 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 3^ 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 influence of
these long years of illness ; thus as early as 1840 he wrote to
Fox : " I am grown a dull, old, spiritless dog to what I used
to be. One gets stupider as one grows older I 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. 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 I 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 of strength : thank you for
your kindness ; many of my friends, I believe, think me a
hypochondriac."

Again, in 1849, he notes in his diary: — "January ist to
March loth. — Health very bad, with much sickness and
failure of power. Worked on all well days." This was
written just before his first visit to Dr. Gully's Water-Cure
Establishment at Malvern. In April of the same year he
wrote : — " I believe I am going on very well, but I am rather
weary of my present inactive life, and the water-cure has the
most extraordinary effect in producing indolence and stagna-
tion of mind : till experiencing it, I could not have believed
it possible. I now increase in weight, have escaped sickness

1846.] BRITISH ASSOCIATION. 351

for thirty days." He returned in June, after sixteen weeks'
absence, much improved in health, and, as already described
(p. 131), continued the water-cure at home for some time.]

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down [October, 1846].

MY DEAR HOOKER,— I have not heard from Sulivan*
lately; when he last wrote he named from 8th to loth as
the most likely time. Immediately that I hear, I will fly
you a line, for the chance of your being able to come. I
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. . . .

I am going to begin some papers on the lower marine
animals, which will last me some months, perhaps a year, and
then I shall begin looking over my ten-year-long accumulation
of notes on species and varieties, which, with writing, I dare
say will take me five years, and then, when published, I dare
say I shall stand infinitely low in the opinion of all sound
Naturalists — so this is my prospect for the future.

Are you a good hand at inventing names ? I have a quite
new and curious genus of Barnacle, which I want to name,
and how to invent a name completely puzzles me.

By the way, I have told you nothing about Southampton.
We enjoyed (wife and myself) our week beyond measure r
the papers were all dull, but I met so many friends and
made so many new acquaintances (especially some of the
Irish Naturalists), and took so many pleasant excursions.
I wish you had been there. On Sunday we had so plea-
sant an excursion to Winchester with Falconer,f Colonel

* Admiral Sir B. J. Sulivan, for- as a botanist during his whole

merly an officer of the Beagle. career in India, where he was also

t Hugh Falconer, born 1809, a medical officer in H.E.I.C. Ser-

died 1865. Chiefly known as a vice ; he was superintendent of the

paleontologist, although employed Company's garden, first at Saha-

352 LIFE AT DOWN. ^TAT. 33-45.

Sabinc,* and Dr. Robinson,f and others. I never enjoyed
a day more in my life. I missed having a look at H.
Watson.J I suppose you heard that he met Forbes and told
him he had a severe article in the Press. I understand 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 it, which
Forbes naturally declined. . . .

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, April 7th, [1847 ?]

MY DEAR HOOKER, — I should have written before now, had
I 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 I had forgotten
you would be away all this month ; but I had no choice, and
was in bed nearly all Friday and Saturday. I congratulate
you over your improved prospects about India,§ but at the

runpore, and then at Calcutta. He Robinson, of the Armagh Observa-

was one of the first botanical ex- tory.

plorers of Kashmir. Falconer's \ The late Hewett Cottrell Wat-
discoveries of Miocene mammalian son, author of the ' Cybele Britan-
remains in the Sewalik Hills, were, nica,' one of a most valuable series
at the time, perhaps the greatest of works on the topography and
"finds" which had been made. His geographical distribution of the
book on the subject, 'Fauna An- plants of the British Islands,
tiqua Sivalensis,' remained un- § Sir J. Hooker left England on
finished at the time of his death. November u, 1847, for his Hima-

* The late Sir Edward Sabine, layan and Tibetan journey. The

formerly President of the Royal expedition was supported by a small

Society, and author of a long grant from the Treasury, and thus

series of memoirs on Terrestrial assumed the character of a Govern-

Magnetism. ment mission.

f The late Dr. Thomas Romney

1 847.] HOOKER'S INDIAN EXPEDITION. 353

same time must sincerely groan over it. I shall feel quite lost
without you to discuss many points with, and to point out
(ill-luck to you) difficulties and objections to my species hypo-
theses. It will be a horrid shame if money stops your expedi-
tion ; 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,
but not without, I 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 ; their utilitarian souls
would comprehend this. By the way, I will get some work
out of you, about the domestic races of animals in India. . . .

C. Darwin to L. Jenyns (Blomefield).

Down [1847].

DEAR JENYNS, — 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. I think it is very
amusing to have a list before one's eyes of the order of appear-
ance of the plants and animals around one ; it gives a fresh
interest to each fine day. There is one point I should like to
see a little improved, viz. the correction for the clock at

* On this subject Rev. A. Blome- " The Pocket Almanack con-
field writes to me : — " This letter tained, moreover, miscellaneous in-
relates to a small Almanack first formation relating to Zoology and
published in 1843, under the name Botany; to Natural History and
of ' The Naturalists' Pocket Al- other scientific societies ; to public
manack,' by Mr. Van Voorst, and Museums and Gardens, in addition
which I edited for him. It was to the ordinary celestial phenomena
intended especially for those who found in most other Almanacks,
interest themselves in the periodic It continued to be issued till 1847,
phenomena of animals and plants, after which year the publication
of which a select list was given was abandoned."
under each month of the year.

354 LIFE AT DOWN. /ETAT. 33-45. [1847.

shorter intervals. Most people, I suspect, who like myself
have dials, will wish to be more precisekthan with a margin
of three minutes. I always buy a shilling almanack for this
sole end. By the way, yours, i,e. 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.
I know what I 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 go on with it another year. With many

thanks, my dear Jenyns,

Yours very truly,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, Sunday [April i8th, 1847].

MY DEAR HOOKER, — I return with many thanks Watson's
letter, which I have had copied. It is a capital one, and I am
extremely obliged to you for obtaining me such valuable
information. Surely he is rather in a hurry when he says
intermediate varieties must almost be necessarily rare, other-
.wise they would be taken as the types of the species ; for he
overlooks numerical frequency as an element. Surely if A, B, C
were three varieties, and if A were a good deal the commonest
(therefore, also, first known), it would be taken as the type,
without regarding whether B was quite intermediate or not,
or whether it was rare or not. What capital essays W.
would write ; but I suppose he has written a good deal in the

1 847.] H. c. WATSON. 355

' Phytologist.' You ought to encourage him to publish on
variation ; it is a shame that such facts as those in his letter
should remain unpublished. I must get you to introduce me
to him ; would he be a good and sociable man for Dropmore?*
though if he comes, Forbes must not (and I think you talked
of inviting Forbes), or we shall have a glorious battle. 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. ... I 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 Annales 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. I am 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, breakfastless hour on the properties
of rhubarb !

I hope your journey will be very prosperous. Believe me,

my dear Hooker,

Ever yours,

C. DARWIN.

P.S.— I think I have only made one new acquaintance
of late, that is, R. Chambers ; and I have just received a

* A much enjoyed expedition 1847.

made from Oxford — when the f Of the Botany of Hooker's

British Association met there in ' Antarctic Voyage.'

VOL. I. 2 B

356 LIFE AT DOWN. jETAT. 33-45. [1847.

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, [1847 ?]

... I am delighted to hear that Brongniart thought
Sigillaria aquatic, and that Binney considers coal a sort of
submarine peat. I would bet 5 to I that in twenty years
this will be generally admitted ; * and I do not care for
whatever the botanical difficulties or impossibilities may be.
If I could but persuade myself that Sigillaria and Co. had a
good range of depth, />. could live from 5 to 100 fathoms
under water, all difficulties of nearly all kinds would be re-
moved (for the simple fact of muddy ordinary shallow sea
implies proximity of land). [N.B. — I am chuckling to think
how you are sneering 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 Mollusca, and that
shells would probably decay from the humic acid, as seems to
take place in peat and in the black moulds (as Lyell tells
me) of the Mississippi. So coal question settled — Q. E. D.
Sneer away 1

Many thanks for your welcome note from Cambridge, and I
am glad you like my alma mafer, which I despise heartily as
a 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^I 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 I do not believe I ever lost a book
or forgot to return it during a long lapse of time. Your
4 Webb ' is well wrapped up, and with your name in large
letters outside.

* An unfulfilled prophecy.

1 847-] COAL. 357

My new microscope is come home (a " splendid plaything,"
as old R. Brown called it), and I am delighted with it ; it
really is a splendid plaything. I have been in London for
three days, and saw many of our friends. I was extremely
sorry to hear a not very good account of Sir William.
Farewell, my dear Hooker, and be a good boy, and make
Sigillaria a submarine sea- weed.

Ever yours,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down [May 6th, 1847].

MY DEAR HOOKER, — You have 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 I
fear that you answer me when busy and without inclination
(and I am sure I should have none if I was as busy as you).
Pray do not do so, and if I thought my writing entailed an
answer from you nolens vokns, it would destroy all my pleasure
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 as marine
plants ; but surely there is a wide distinction between 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
in situ, should have preserved drifted plants ? I know
Calamites is found upright ; but I fancied its affinities were
very obscure, like Sigillaria. As for Lepidodendron, I forgot
its existence, as happens when one goes riot, and now know
neither what it is, or whether upright. If these plants, i.e.
Calamites and Lepidodendron, have very clear relations to
terrestrial vegetables, like the ferns have, and are found

2 B 2

358 LIFE AT DOWN. yETAT. 33-4$. [1847.

upright /// situ, of course I must give up the ghost. But
surely Sigillaria is the main upright plant, and on its obscure
affinities I have heard you enlarge.

Thirdly, it never entered my head to undervalue botanical
relatively to zoological evidence ; except in so far as I
thought it was admitted that the vegetative structure seldom
yielded 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 a 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 ? Is it a safe argument, that be-
cause algae are almost the only, or the only submerged sea-
plants, that formerly other groups had not members with such
habits ? With animals such an argument would not be con-
clusive, 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 foundation
of my letter, and what is my deliberate opinion, though I dare
say you will think it absurd, is that I would rather trust, cateris
paribus, pure geological evidence than either zoological or
botanical evidence. I do not say that I would sooner trust
poor geological evidence than good organic. I think the basis
of pure geological reasoning is simpler (consisting chiefly of
the action of water on the crust of the earth, and its up and
down movements) than a basis drawn from the difficult
subject of affinities and of structure in relation to habits. I
can hardly analyse the facts on which I have come to this
conclusion ; but I can illustrate it. Pallas's account would
lead 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.

1 847.] COAL. 359

Tell me that an upright fern in situ occurs with Sigillaria
and Stigmaria, or that the affinities of Calamites and Lepido-
dendron (supposing that they are found in situ with Si-
gillaria) are so clear, that they could not have been marine,
like, but in a greater degree, than the mangrove and sea-
wrack, and I will humbly apologise to you and all Botanists
for having let my mind run riot on a subject on which
assuredly I know nothing. But till I hear this, I shall keep
privately to my own opinion with the same pertinacity and,
as you will think, with the same philosophical spirit with
which Koenig maintains that Cheirotherium-footsteps are fuci.

Whether this letter will sink me still lower in your opinion,
or put me a little right, I know not, but hope the latter.
Anyhow, 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 offer 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 infernal
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. I wonder whether Zoologists
and Geologists have got their tender points ; I wish I could
find out."

" I cannot resist thanking you for your most kind note.
Pray do not think that I was annoyed by your letter : I per-
ceived that you had been thinking with animation, and ac-
cordingly expressed yourself strongly, and so I understood it.
* The late Sir C. Bunbury, well known as a palaeobotanist.

360 LIFE AT DOWN. jETAT. 33-4$. [1847.

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."]

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker*

Down [October, 1847].

I 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 over, I shall
miss you selfishly and all ways to a dreadful extent ... I
am in great perplexity how we are to meet ... I can well
understand 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 Anthony 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 I suppose the coal was rained down to puzzle
mortals. You must work the coal well in India.

Ever yours,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

[November 6th, 1847.]

MY DEAR HOOKER, — 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 circumstances, as
* Parts of two letters.

1 847.] GLEN ROY. 361

the greatest proof of friendship I ever received from mortal
man. My conscience would have upbraided me in not having
come to you on Thursday, but, as it turned out, I could not,
for I was quite unable to leave Shrewsbury before that day,
and I reached home only last night, much knocked up. With-
out I hear to-morrow (which is hardly possible), and if I am
feeling pretty well, I will drive over to Kew on Monday
morning, just to say farewell. I will stay only an hour. . . .

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

[November 1847.]

MY DEAR HOOKER, — I am very unwell, and incapable of
doing anything. I do hope I have not inconvenienced you.
I 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
shall not now see you. Farewell, and God bless you.

Your affectionate friend,

C DARWIN.
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 criticised, 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 horribly sick." I have not been able to find any published
reply to Mr. Milne, so that I imagine the " writing" mentioned
was confined to letters. Mr. Milne's paper was not destructive
to the Glen Roy paper, and this my father recognises in the
following extract from a letter to Lyell (March, 1847). The
reference to Chambers is explained by the fact that he ac-

* Now Mr. Milne Home. The of the Edinburgh Royal Society,
essay was published in Transactions voL xvi.

362 i HE AT DOWN. ^-TAT. 33-45. [1848.

companicd Mr. Milne in his visit to Glen Roy. " I 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 I have heard
what is to be said, not even staggered. It is provoking and
humiliating to find that Chambers not only had not read
with any care my paper on this subject, or even looked at the
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. I 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 subject : —

" I was at the evening meeting [of the Geological Society],
but did not get within hail of you. What a fool (though I must

say 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 Con-
tinent going down. I did not hear what you settled at the
Council ; I was quite wearied out and bewildered. I find Smith,
of Jordan Hill, has a much worse opinion of R. Chambers's
book than even I have. Chambers has piqued me a little ; *
he says I ' propound ' and ' profess my belief that Glen Roy is
marine, and that the idea was accepted because the ' mobility
of the land was the ascendant idea of the day.' He adds some
very faint upper 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 (not at coincident
levels with those of Glen Roy) in other parts of Scotland at
great heights, and he adds several other cases. This is the
whole of his addition to the data. He not only takes my line

* 'Ancient Sea Margins, 1848.' should be " the mobility of the land
The words quoted by my father was an ascendant idea."

1848.] ROBERT CHAMBERS. 363

of argument from the buttresses and terraces below the lower
shelf and some other arguments (without acknowledgment),
but he 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 I commence the descrip-
tion of them with saying, that ' perceiving their importance, I
examined them with scrupulous care,' and expatiate at con-
siderable length on them. I 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 terraces at lower levels coincident in
height all round Scotland and England, I 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 as 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 (he does not say
where he puts it) for a thickness of half a mile, and this he
has calculated would make an apparent rise of 130 feet."

C. Darwin to C, Lyell.

Down [June 1848].

MY DEAR LYELL, — 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
lines of arguments and facts without acknowledgment. He
concluded by saying he "came to the same point by an
independent 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, &c." I am
heartily glad I was able to say in truth that I thought he had

364 l.IKK AT J»«)\V.\. .1.1 AT. 33-45. [1848.

done good service in calling more attention to the subject of
the terraces. 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
astonishing, that I believe it will with others, as with me,
more than counterbalance his previous caution. I 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.

... I have lately been trying to get up an agitation (but
I shall not succeed, and indeed doubt whether I have time
and strength to go on with it), against the practice of
Naturalists appending for perpetuity the name of the first
describer to species. I look at this as a direct premium to
hasty work, to naming instead of describing. 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.*

* His contempt for the self-re- bridgeshire. He was pleased with

garding spirit in a naturalist is his capture, and of course carried

illustrated by an anecdote, for which it home in triumph. Some years

I am indebted to Rev. L. Blome- afterwards, the voyage of the Beagle

field. After speaking of my father's having been made in the interim,

love of Entomology at Cambridge, talking over old times with him, I

Mr. Blomefield continues : — " He reverted to this circumstance, and

occasionally came over from Cam- asked if he remembered it. ' Oh

bridge to my Vicarage at Swaffham yes,' (he said,) ' I remember it well ;

Bulbeck, and we went out together and I was selfish enough to keep

to collect insects in the woods at the specimen, when you were col-

Bottisham Hall, close at hand, or lecting materials for a Fauna of

made longer excursions in the Fens. Cambridgeshire, and for a local

On one occasion he captured in a museum in the Philosophical

large bag net, with which he used Society.' He followed this up with

vigorously to sweep the weeds and some remarks on the pettiness of

long grass, a rare coleopterous in- collectors, who aimed at nothing

sect, one of the Lepturida, which I beyond filling their cabinets with

myself had never taken in Cam- rare things."

1 849.] NOMENCLATURE. 365

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
Zoology from mere naming; the characters, fortunately, are
more obscure. 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 affec-
tionately 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,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darwin to Hugh Strickland*

Down, Jan. 2Qth [1849].

.... What a labour you have undertaken ; I do honour
your devoted zeal in the good cause of Natural Science. Do

* Hugh Edwin Strickland, M.A., career was suddenly cut short on
F.R.S., was born 2nd of March, September 14, 1853, when, while
1811, and educated at Rugby, geologizing in a railway cutting be-
and at Oriel College, Oxford. tween Retford and Gainsborough,
In 1835 and 1836 he travelled he was run over by a train and
through Europe to the Levant with instantly killed. A memoir of him
W. J. Hamilton, the geologist, win- and a reprint of his principal cen-
tering in Asia Minor. In 1841 he tributions to journals was published
brought the subject of Natural by Sir William Jardine in 1858 ;
History Nomenclature before the but he was also the author of ' The
British Association, and prepared Dodo and its Kindred' (1848);
the Code of Rules for Zoological ' Bibhographia Zoologias ' (the latter
Nomenclature, now known by his in conjunction with Louis Agassiz,
name — the principles of which are and issued by the Ray Society) ;
very generally adopted. In 1843 'Ornithological Synonyms' (one
he was one of the founders (if not volume only published, and that
the original projector) of the Ray posthumously). A catalogue of his
Society. In 1845 he married the ornithological collection, given by
second daughter of Sir William his widow to the University of
Jardine, Bart. In 1850 he was ap- Cambridge, was compiled by Mr.
pointed, in consequence of Buck- Salvin, and published in 1882. (I
land's illness, Deputy Reader in am indebted to Prof. Newton for
Geology at Oxford. His promising the above note.)

366 LIFE AT DOWN. JET AT. 33-45. [1849.

you happen to have a spare copy of the Nomenclature rules
published in the ' British Association Transactions ? ' if you
have, and would give it me, I should be truly obliged, for I
grudge buying the volume for it. I have found the rules very
useful, it is quite a comfort to have something to rest on in
the turbulent ocean of nomenclature (and am accordingly
grateful to you), though I find it very difficult 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 anticipated by a German :
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 rule
of priority in this case ; would you grudge the trouble to send
me your opinion ? I have been led of late to reflect much on
the subject of naming, and I have come to a fixed opinion
that the plan of the first describer's name, being appended
for perpetuity to a species, has been the greatest curse to
Natural History. Some months since, I wrote out the en-
closed badly drawn-up paper, thinking that perhaps I would
agitate the subject ; but the fit has passed, and I do not sup-
pose I ever shall ; I send it you for the chance of your caring
to see my notions. I have been surprised to find in con-
versation that several naturalists were of nearly my way of
thinking. I feel sure as long as species- mongers 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 vast 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. I find
every genus of Cirripcdia has half-a-dozen names, and not
one careful description of any one species in any one genus.
I do not believe that this would have been the case if each

1 849.] NOMENCLATURE. 367

man knew that the memory of his own name depended on his
doing his work well, and not upon merely appending a name
with a few wretched lines indicating only a few prominent
external characters. But I will not weary you with any
longer tirade. Read my paper or not, just as you like, and
return it whenever you please.

Yours most sincerely,

C. DARWIN.

Hugh Strickland to C. Darwin,

The Lodge, Tewkesbury, Jan. 3ist, 1849.

.... I have next to notice your second objection — that
retaining the name of the first describer in perpetuum along
with that of the species, is a premium on hasty and careless
work. This is quite a different question from 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 counteract 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 indi-
cate more precisely the species. Sometimes two men will, by
accident, give the same name (independently) to two species of
the same genus. More frequently a later author will misapply
the specific name of an older one. Thus the Helix pntris of
Montagu is not H. putris of Linnaeus, though Montagu sup-
posed 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 frugilegus], and no other species 01
Corvus has borne the same name, it is, of course, unnecessary
to add the author's name. Yet even here I like the form
Corvus frugilegus, Linn., as it reminds us that this is one of
the old species, long known, and to be found in the ' Systema

368 1. 1 IK AT DOWN. ^ETAT. 33-45. [1849.

Naturae,' &c. I fear, therefore, that (at least until our nomen-
clature is more definitely settled) it will be impossible to
indicate species with scientific accuracy, without adding the
name of their first author. You may, indeed, do it as you
propose, by saying /;/ Lam. An. Invert., &c., but then this
would be incompatible with the law of priority, for where
Lamarck has violated that law, one cannot adopt his name.
It is, nevertheless, highly conducive to accurate indication to
append to the (oldest) specific name one good reference to a
standard work, especially to a figure, 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 appending 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 propriety of that name, you must ascertain when, and by
whom, the name was first coined. Now, if to the specific
name C. D., I 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 I thus assist
you in determining whether C. D. be really the oldest, and
therefore the correct, designation.

I do, however, admit that the priority principle (excellent
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 writing
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 List of the various modern works in
which new species are described, arranged in order of merit.

1 849.] NOMENCLATURE 369-

The lowest class would contain the worst examples of the
kind, and their authors would thus be exposed to the obloquy
which they deserve, and be gibbeted in terrorem for the
edification of those who may come after.

I 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 la-
bourers, many of them crotchety and half-educated, are
rushing into the field, and it depends, I think, on the present
generation whether the science is to descend to posterity a
chaotic mass, or possessed of some traces of law and organisa-
tion. If we could only get a congress of deputies from the
chief scientific 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
Number One.

Yours ever,

H. E. STRICKLAND.

C. Darwin to Hugh Strickland.

Down, Sunday [Feb. 4th, 1849].

MY DEAR STRICKLAND, — I am, in truth, greatly 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 I 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 ; I am curious for your answer in
regard to Balanus. I put the case of Otion, &c., to W.

370 LIFE AT DOWN. ^-TAT. 33-4$. [1849.

Thompson, who is fierce for the law of priority, and he gave
it up in such well-known names. I am in a perfect maze of
doubt on nomenclature. In not one large genus of Cirripcdia
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 cirripedes. I
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 ; I cannot at present tell the least which of two
species all writers have meant by the common Anatifera
l&vis ; I 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. For 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 according 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 : I think
not, and that convenience and high merit (here put as mere
argument) had better come into some play. The subject is
heart-breaking.

I hope you will occasionally turn in your mind my argument
of the evil done by the " mini " attached to specific names ;
I can most clearly see the excessive evil it has caused ; in
mineralogy I have myself found there is no rage to merely
name ; a person does not take up the subject without he
intends to work it out, as he knows that his only claim to
merit rests on his work being ably done, and has no relation
whatever to naming. I give up one point, and grant that
reference to first describer's name should be given in all sys-
tematic works, but I think something would be gained if a

1 849.] NOMENCLATURE. 371

reference was given without the author's name being actually-
appended as part of the binomial name, and I think, except
in systematic works, a reference, such as I propose, would
damp vanity much. 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,
or none, is due ; if he works out minutely and anatomically
any one species, or systematically a whole group, credit is
due, but I must think the mere defining a species is nothing,
and that no injustice 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 to a carpenter for making a box. But I am foolish and
rabid 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 describe a species by valves alone, is the same as to
describe a crab from small 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, but indeed I will give no more.

Yours most sincerely,

C. DARWIN.

P.S. — In conversation I found Owen and Andrew Smith
much inclined to throw over the practice of attaching authors'
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.

VOL. I. 2 C

372 LIFE AT DOWN. yliTAT. 33~4$. [1849.

C. Danvin to Hugh Strickland.

Down, Feb. loth [1849].

MY DEAR STRICKLAND, — 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 faithful to rigid virtue and
priority ; but as for calling Balanus " Lepas " (which I did
not think of), I cannot do it, my pen won't write it — it is
impossible. I have great hopes some of my difficulties will
disappear, owing to wrong dates in Agassiz, and to my having
to run several genera into one, for I have as yet gone, in but
few cases, to original sources. With respect to adopting my
own notions in my Cirripedia book, I should not like to do so
without I found others approved, and in some public way—
nor, indeed, is it well adapted, as I can never recognise a
species without I have the original specimen, which, for-
tunately, I have in many cases in the British Museum. Thus
far I mean to adopt my notion, as never putting mihi or
•' Danvin " after my own species, and 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 a species as
far as I can imperfectly work it out

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

[The Lodge, Malvern,

March 28th, 1849.]

MY DEAR HOOKER, — Your letter of the I3th 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 1 3th 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

1849.] HIS FATHER'S DEATH. 373

travel, which added to my misery. Indeed, all this winter I
have been bad enough . . . and my nervous system began
to be affected, so that my hands trembled, and head was
often swimming. I was 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 flesh. Having heard, acci-
dentally, of two persons who had received much benefit from
the water-cure, I got Dr. Gully's book, and made further
enquiries, and at last started here, with wife, children, and
all our servants. We have taken a house for two months,
and have been here a fortnight. I am already a little
stronger . . . Dr. Gully feels pretty sure he can do me good,

which most certainly the regular doctors could not

I feel certain 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 Homoeopathy, which is a subject which
makes me more wrath, even than does Clairvoyance. Clair-
voyance so transcends belief, that one's ordinary faculties are
put out of the question, but in homceopathy common sense
and common observation come into play, and both these must
go to the dogs, if the infinitesimal doses have any effect what-
ever. How true is a remark I saw the other day by Quetelet,

2 C 2

374 LIFE AT DOWN. A-.TAT. 33-4$. [1849^

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 homoeopathy,
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 clairvoyant girl to report

on internal changes, a mesmerist to put her to sleep — an

homoeopathist, viz. Dr. , and himself as hydropathist !

and the girl recovered."

A passage out of an earlier letter to Fox (December, 1844)
shows that he was equally sceptical on the subject of mes-
merism : " With respect to mesmerism, the whole country
resounds with wonderful facts or tales ... I have just
heard 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. I shall not believe fully till I
see'or hear from good evidence of animals (as has been stated
is possible) not drugged, being put to stupor ; of course the
impossibility would not prove mesmerism false ; but it is the
only clear experimentum crucis, and I am astonished it has
not been systematically tried. If mesmerism was investi-
gated, like a science, this could not have been left till the
present day to be done satisfactorily, as it has been I believe
left. Keep some cats yourself, 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 easily done than other animals, because
they were so electrical !"]

C. Darwin to C. Lyell.

Down, December 4th [1849].

MY DEAR LYELL, — This letter requires no answer, and I
write from exuberance of vanity. Dana has sent me the
Geology of the United States Expedition, and I have just

1 849.] DANA ON CORAL REEFS.

375

read the Coral part. To begin with a modest speech, / am
astonisJied at my own accuracy ! ! If I were to rewrite now my
Coral book there is hardly a sentence I should have to alter,
except that I ought to have attributed more effect to recent
volcanic action in checking growth of coral. When I say all
this I ought to add that the consequences of the theory on
areas of subsidence are treated in a separate chapter to which
I have not come, and in this, I suspect, we shall differ more.
Dana talks of agreeing with my theory in most points ; I can
find out not one in which he differs. Considering how
infinitely more he saw of Coral Reefs than I did, this is
wonderfully satisfactory to me. He treats me most courteously.
There now, my vanity is pretty well satisfied. . . .

C. Darwin to J, D. Hooker.

Malvern, April gth, 1849.

MY DEAR HOOKER, — The very next morning after posting
my last letter (I think on 23rd of March), I received your two
interesting gossipaceous and geological letters ; and the latter
I have since exchanged with Lyell for his. I will write
higglety-pigglety just as subjects occur. I saw the Review
in the ' Athenseum,' it was written in an ill-natured 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 real good abuse, " presumption," &c. — ended with saying
that the volume appeared " made up of the scraps and rubbish
of the author's portfolio." I most truly enter into what you
say, and quite believe you that you care only for the review
with respect to your father ; and that this alone would make
you like to see 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 ' Athenaeum ' (in which I have no

376 LIFE AT DOWN. ,ETAT. 33~45. [1849.

interest ; the beasts not having even noticed my three geolo-
gical volumes 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 with care, a condensed and finished sketch of some-
striking feature in your travels, it is better not to send
anything. These two letters are, moreover, rather too geolo-
gical for the ' Athenaeum,' 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 smallest
doubt 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. . . .

I have written so lately that I have nothing to say about
myself; my health prevented me going on with a crusade
against " mihi " and " nobis," of which you warn 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, I 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].

... I have got your book,* and have read all the first and a
small part of the second volume (reading is the hardest work

* ' A Second Visit to the United States.'

1 849.] LORD STANHOPE.

377

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 reli-
gious 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 (I know it is prejudice and pride) if I had written the
Principles, I never would have written any travels ; but I
believe I am more jealous about the honour and glory of the
Principles than you are yourself. . . .

C. Darwin to C. LyelL

September I4th, 1849.

... I go on with my aqueous processes, and very steadily but
slowly gain health and strength. Against all rules, I dined at
Chevening with Lord Mahon, who did me the great honour
of calling on me, and how he heard of me I can't guess. I
was charmed with Lady Mahon, and any one might have been
proud at the pieces of agreeableness which came from her
beautiful lips with respect to you. I 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 up, and then made it again, and again
broke it up, as the Geologists say, is all fiddle faddle.
Describing Species of birds and shells, &c., is all fiddle
faddle." . . .

I am heartily glad we shall meet at Birmingham, as I trust
we shall, if my health will but keep up. 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 faddle ; however,

378 LIFE AT DOWN. ^iTAT. 33-4$. [1849.

the other day I got the curious case of a unisexual, instead of
hermaphrodite cirripede, in which the female had the common
cirripedial character, and in two valves of her shell had two
little pockets, in each of which she kept a little husband ; I 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 I 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 are 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 Cirripedia. . . .

C. Darwin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, October I2th, 1849.

. . . By the way, one of the pleasantest parts of the British
Association was my journey down to Birmingham with
Mrs. Sabine, Mrs. Reeve, and the Colonel ; also Col. Sykes
and Porter. Mrs. Sabine and myself agreed wonderfully on
many points, and in none more sincerely than about you.
We spoke about your letters from the Erebus ; and she quite
agreed with me, that you and the author * 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 deal of the Lyells and Homers and
Robinsons (the President) ; but the place was dismal, and

* Sir J. Hooker wrote the spirited the Southern Regions,' 1847, vol. ii.
description of cattle hunting in Sir p. 245.
J. Ross's 'Voyage of Discovery in

1849-] WATER CURE. 379

I was prevented, by being unwell, from going to Warwick,
though that, Le. the party, by all accounts, was wonderfully
inferior to Blenheim, not to say anything of that heavenly
day at Dropmore. One gets weary of all the spouting. . . .

You ask about my cold-water cure ; I am going on very
well, and am certainly a little better every month, my nights
mend much slower than my days. I have built a douche,
and am to go on through 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. ... I am allowed to work now
two and a half hours daily, and I find it as much as I can do ;
for the cold-water cure, together with three short walks, is
curiously exhausting ; and I am actually forced to go to bed
at eight o'clock completely tired. I steadily gain in weight,
and eat immensely, and am never oppressed with my food.
I have lost the involuntary twitching of the muscle, and all the
fainting feelings, &c. — black spots before eyes, &c. Dr. Gully
thinks he shall quite cure me in six or nine months more.

The greatest bore, which I find in the water-cure, is the
having been compelled to give up all reading, except the news-
papers ; for my daily two and a half hours at the Barnacles is
fully as much as I can do of anything which occupies the
mind ; I am consequently terribly behind in all scientific
books. I have of late been at work at mere species de-
scribing, 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 varieties and not
species. As long as I am on anatomy I never feel myself in
that disgusting, horrid, cut bono, inquiring, humour. What

380 LIFE AT DOWN. jETAT. 33-45. [l8$ I.

miserable work, again, it is searching for priority of names.
I have just finished two species, which possess seven generic,
and twenty-four specific names ! My chief comfort is, that
the work must be sometime done, and I may as well do it, as
any one else.

I have given up my agitation against mihi and nobis; my
paper is too long to send to you, so 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 bad 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 little
daughter, which took place at Malvern on April 24, 1851 :]

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Down, April 2gth [1851].

MY DEAR Fox, — I do not suppose you will have heard of
our bitter and cruel loss. Poor dear little Annie, when going
on very well at Malvern, was taken with a vomiting attack,
which was at first thought of the smallest importance ; but it
rapidly assumed the form of a low and dreadful fever, which
carried her off in ten days. Thank God, she suffered hardly
at all, and expired as tranquilly as a little angel. Our only
consolation is that she passed a short, though joyous life.
She was my favourite child ; her cordiality, openness, buoyant
joyousness and strong affections made her most loveable.
Poor dear little soul. Well, it is all over. . . .

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Down, March 7th [1852].

MY DEAR Fox, — It is indeed an age since we have had any
communication, and very glad I was to receive your note.

iSS2-] EDUCATION. 381

Our long silence occurred to me a few weeks since, and I
had then thought of writing, but was idle. I congratulate and
condole with you on your tenth child ; but please to observe
when I have a tenth, send only condolences to me. We have
now seven children, all well, thank God, as well as their mother ;
of these seven, five are boys ; and my father used to say that
it was certain that a boy gave as much trouble as three girls ;
so that bond fide we have seventeen children. It makes me
sick whenever I think of professions ; all seem hopelessly-
bad, and as yet I cannot see a ray of light. I should very-
much like to talk over this (by the way, my three bug-
bears are Californian and Australian gold, beggaring me by
making my money on mortgage worth nothing ; the French
coming by the Westerham and Sevenoaks roads, and there-
fore enclosing Down ; and thirdly, professions for my boys),
and I should like to talk about education, on which you ask
me what we are doing. No one can more truly despise the
old stereotyped stupid classical education than I do ; but
yet I 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. . .
I 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 excite-
ment. I rarely even now go to London ; not that I 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 always bad, and that stops my

* His sister.

382 LIFE AT DOWN. /ETAT. 33-45. [1852.

becoming vigorous. You ask about water-cure. I take at
intervals of two or three months, five or six weeks of mode-
rately severe treatment, and always with good effect. Do
you come here, I pray and beg whenever you can find time ;
you cannot tell how much pleasure it would give me and E.
I have finished the 1st vol. for the Ray Society of Peduncula-
ted Cirripedes, which, as I think you are a member, you will
soon get. Read what I describe on the sexes of Ibla and
Scalpellum. I am now 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 I was
saying a week ago to E., that had I been as I was in old days,
I would have been certainly off that hour. You ask after
Erasmus ; he is much as usual, and constantly more or less
unwell. Susan * is much better, and very flourishing and
happy. Catherine* is at Rome, and has enjoyed it in a
degree that is quite astonishing to my old dry bones. And
now I think I have told you 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 major.f
Ah, in those days there were no professions for sons, no ill-
health to fear for them, no Californian gold, no French
invasions. How paramount the future is to the present when
one is surrounded by children. My dread is hereditary ill-
health. Even death is better for them.

My dear Fox, your sincere friend,

C. DARWIN.

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

* His sisters. f The beetle Panagceus crux major.

1852.] CHIMNEY SWEEPS. 383

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 one of one's own children at
seven years old being forced up a chimney — to say nothing
of the consequent loathsome disease and ulcerated limbs,
and utter moral degradation. If 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. It is not very likely that you
would wish for such, but I could send you some essays and
information if you so liked, either for yourself or to give
away.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Down [October 24th, 1852].

MY DEAR FOX, — I received your long and most welcome
letter this morning, and will answer it this evening, as I
shall be very busy with an artist, drawing Cirripedia, and
much overworked for the next fortnight. But first you deserve
to be well abused — and pray consider yourself well abused —
for thinking or writing that I could for one minute be bored
by any amount of detail about yourself and belongings. It is
just what I like hearing ; believe me that I often think of old
days 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. I have been un-
usually well of late (no water-cure), but I 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,

384 LIFE AT DOWN. ,ETAT. 33-45. [1852.

brought on my bad form of vomiting. I grieve to hear that
your chest has been ailing, and most sincerely do I 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. I believe I have seen her
since, but my memory takes me back some twenty-five years,
when she was lying down. I remember well the delightful
expression of her countenance. I most sincerely wish her all
happiness.

I see I 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 feel sure schools have
greatly improved since our days ; but I hate schools and the
whole system of breaking through the affections of the family
by separating the boys so early in life ; but I see no help,
and dare not run the risk of a youth being exposed to the
temptations of the world without having undergone the milder
ordeal of a great school.

I sec you even ask after our pears. We have had lots of
Beurrees d'Aremberg, Winter Nelis, Marie Louise, and " Nc
plus Ultra," but all off the wall ; the standard dwarfs have
borne a few, but I have no room for more trees, so their
names would be useless to me. You really must make a
holiday and pay us a visit sometime ; nowhere could you be
more heartily welcome. I am at work at the second volume
* To the Rev. J. Hughes.

I853-] EDUCATION.

385

of the Cirripedia, of which creatures I am wonderfully tired.
I hate a Barnacle as no man ever did before, not even a sailor
in a slow-sailing ship. My first volume is out ; the only part
worth looking at is on the sexes of Ibla and Scalpellum.
I hope by next summer to have done with my tedious work.
Farewell, — do come whenever you can possibly manage it.

I cannot but hope that the carbuncle may possibly do you
good ; I have heard of all sorts of weaknesses disappearing
after a carbuncle. I suppose the pain is dreadful. 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 elevator) out at a sitting under this wonderful
substance, and felt hardly anything.

My dear old friend, yours very affectionately,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

Down, January 2gth [1853].

MY DEAR FOX, — Your last account some months ago was
so little satisfactory that I have often been thinking of you,
and should be really obliged if you would give me a few
lines, and tell me how your voice and chest are. I most
sincerely hope that your report will be good. . . . Our second
lad has a strong mechanical turn, and we think of making
him an engineer. I shall try and find out for him some
less classical school, perhaps Bruce Castle. I certainly should
like to see more diversity in education than there is in any
ordinary school — no exercising of the observing or reason-
ing faculties, no general knowledge acquired — I must think
it a wretched system. On the other hand, a boy who has
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. I am at
my old, never-ending subject, but trust I shall really go to

386 LIFE AT DOWN. yETAT. 33-45. [1853.

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 yourself may be much better than your last.

... I have been very little in London of late, and have
not seen Lyell since his return from America ; how lucky he
was to exhume with his own hand parts of three skeletons
of reptiles out of the Carboniferous strata, and out of the
inside of a fossil tree, which had been hollow within.

Farewell, my dear Fox, yours affectionately,

CHARLES DARWIN.

C. Darwin to W. D. Fox.

13 Sea Houses, Eastbourne,

July [i 5th? 1853].

MY DEAR Fox, — Here we are in a state of profound idle-
ness, which to me is a luxury ; and we should all, I 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 ennui to children away from their homes. I received
your letter of I3th June, when working like a slave with
Mr. Sowerby at drawing for my second volume, and so put ofiT
answering it till when I knew I should be at leisure. I was
extremely glad to get your letter. I had intended a couple of
months ago sending you a savage or supplicating 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 animals,
including children, which you kept on your land. Eleven
children, ave Maria ! it is a serious look-out for you. Indeed,
I look at my five boys as something awful, and hate the very
thoughts of professions, &c. If one could insure moderate

1853.] SCHOOLS. 387

health for them it would not signify so much, for I cannot but
hope, with the enormous emigration, professions will some-
what improve. But my bugbear is hereditary weakness. 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 torment me with a long yarn." You ask about Rugby. I
like it very well, on the same principle as my neighbour,
Sir J. Lubbock, likes Eton, viz., that it is not worse than any
other school ; the expense, -with all, &c., &c., including some
clothes, travelling expences, &c., is from ;£iio 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 perhaps 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 reasoning
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. I was talking lately
to the Dean of Hereford, who takes most strongly this view ;
and he tells me that there is a school at Hereford commencing
on this plan ; and that Dr. Kennedy at Shrewsbury is going
to begin vigorously to modify that school

I am extremely glad to hear that you approved of my cirri-
pedial volume. I have spent an almost ridiculous amount of
labour on the subject, and certainly would never have under-

VOL. I. 2 D

388 LIFE AT DOWN. ^TAT. 33-45. [1853.

taken it had I foreseen what a job it was. I hope 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. Danvin to W. D. Fox.

Down, August loth [1853].

MY DEAR Fox, — I thank you sincerely for writing to me so
soon after your most heavy misfortunes. Your letter affected
me much. We both most truly sympathise with you and
Mrs. Fox. We too lost, as you may remember, not so 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 painful 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,

CHARLES DARWIN.

[The following letter refers to the Royal Society's Medal,
which was awarded to him in November, 1853 :]

C. Dam' in to J. D. Hooker.

Down, November 5th [1853].

MY DEAR HOOKER, — Amongst my letters received this
morning, I opened first one from Colonel Sabine ; the contents
certainly surprised me very much, but, though the letter was

1 85 3.] ROYAL SOCIETY'S MEDAL. 389

a very kind one, somehow, I cared very little indeed for the
announcement it contained. I 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. I 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 feel sure that you did quite right to propose him ; and
what a good, dear, kind fellow you are, nevertheless, to rejoice
in this honour being bestowed on me.

What pleasure I have felt on the occasion, I owe almost
entirely to you.

Farewell, my dear Hooker, yours affectionately,

C. DARWIN.

* John Lindley (b. 1799, d. 1865) best known being perhaps his

was the son of a nurseryman near ' Vegetable Kingdom,' published in

Norwich, through whose failure in 1846. His influence in helping to

business he was thrown at the age introduce the natural system of

of twenty on his own resources, classification was considerable and

He was befriended by Sir W. he brought " all the weight of his

Hooker, and employed as assistant teaching and all the force of his

librarian by Sir J. Banks. He controversial powers to support it,"

seems to have had enormous ca- as against the Linnean system uni-

pacity of work, and is said to have versally taught in the earlier part

translated Richard's 'Analyse du of his career. Sachs points out

Fruit' at one sitting of two days (Geschichte der Botanik, 1875, p.

and three nights. He became As- 161), that though Lindley adopted

sistant-Secretary to the Horticul- in the main a sound classification

tural Society, and in 1829 was of plants, he only did so by aban-

appointed Professor of Botany at doning his own theoretical principle

University College, a post which that the physiological importance

he held for upwards of thirty years, of an organ is a measure of its

His writings are numerous : the classificatory value.

2 D 2

390 LIFE AT bows. /ttAT. 33-45. [1854.

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. Danvin to C. Lyell.

Down, February i8th [1854].

MY DEAR LYELL, — I should have written before, had it not
seemed doubtful whether you would go on to Teneriffe, but
now I 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. I am
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.
I 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, scoriaccous cliffs ;
but of those liot smells you do not seem to have had much.
I do 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 circumference
than in the middle of the island ; do you suppose the eleva-
tion has had the form of a flat dome ? I remember in the
Cordillera being often struck with the greater abruptness of
the strata in the low extreme outermost ranges, compared
with the great mass of inner mountains. I dare say you will
have thought of measuring exactly the width of any dikes
at the top and bottom of any great cliff (which was done by

18 54-] GEOLOGY. &) t

Mr. Searle [?] at St. Helena), for it has often struck me as very
odd that the cracks did not die out oftener upwards. I can
think of hardly any news to tell you, as I 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 into Permian, together with the Laby-
rinthodon. No doubt you see newspapers, and know that
E. de Beaumont is perpetual Secretary, 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 clay 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. It 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 got up. He has honoured me beyond measure by
dedicating it to me ! As for myself, I am got to the page 1 1 2
of the Barnacles, and that is the sum total of my history.
By-the-way, as you care so much about North America, I
may mention that I had a long letter from a ship-mate in
Australia, who says the Colony is getting decidedly repub-
lican 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 a go-a-head nation it is! Give my
kindest remembrances to Lady Lyell, and to Mrs. Bunbury,
* Sir J. Hooker's ' Himalayan Journal.'

UFE AT DOWN. .KTAT. 33-45. tl854-

and to Bunbury. I 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 part}-.
My dear Lyell,

Yours most truly and affectionately,

C. DARWIN.

C. Darivin to J. D. Hooker.

Down, March ist [1854].

MY DEAR HOOKER, — I finished yesterday evening the first
volume, and I very sincerely congratulate you on having
produced a first-class book * — a book which certainly will last.
I cannot doubt that it wrill take its place as a standard, not so
much because 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 I felt in going
over some of the bridges and 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 ! I thought
I knew you very well, but I had not the least idea that
your Travels were your hobby ; but I 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
bestowed on these beautiful volumes.

Your letter, received this morning, has interested me
extremely, and I 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 me how I thought Lyell
would like the work to be dedicated to him ? I remember
* ' Himalayan Journal.'

1854.] HIMALAYAN JOURNAL. 393

how strongly I answered, and I presume you wanted to know
what I should feel ; whoever would have dreamed of your
being so crafty ? I am 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, &c." 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.

I am writing an unconscionably long letter, but I must
return to the Journals, about which I have hardly said
anything 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 passages 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 goodness ! it is not very likely that I shall ever
go to the Himalaya. Much in a scientific point of view
has interested me, especially all about those wonderful
moraines. I certainly think I quite realise the valleys, more
vividly 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 have been subjected
to such action longer than any mountains (as yet described)
in the world. What a contrast with the Andes !

Perhaps you would like to hear the very little that I can say
per contra, and this only applied to the beginning, in which
(as it struck me) there was not flow enough till you get to

394 LIFE AT DOWN. ^ETAT. 33-45. [1854.

Mirzapore on the Ganges (but the Thugs were most interesting),
where the stream seemed to carry you on more equably with
longer sentences and longer facts and discussions, &c. In
another edition (and I am delighted to hear that Murray has
sold all off), I 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, I 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 I 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 ' Athenaeum.'

What capital news from Tasmania : it really is a very
remarkable and creditable fact to the Colony.* I am always
building veritable castles in the air about emigrating, and
Tasmania has been my head-quarters of late ; so that I feel
very proud of my adopted country : it is really a very singular
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 Dedi-
cation has given me ; I could not help thinking how much

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 caring enough
for your own fame. I wish I 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. . . .

* This refers to an unsolicited towards the expenses' of Sir J.
grant by the Colonial Government Hooker's ' Flora of Tasmania.'

1 854.] CIRRIPEDES. 395

Again farewell : I have written a wonderfully long letter.
Adios, and God bless you.

My dear Hooker, ever yours,

C. DARWIN.

P.S. — I have just looked over my rambling letter ; I 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 pleases 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 Sir J. Hooker :

" I 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."]

END OF VOL. I.

VOL. I. 2 E

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The life and letters of Charles
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