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John Greenleaf Whittier - "Narrative and Legendary Poems: Mabel Martin, A Harvest Idyl"

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The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Volume I

h >> his son >> The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Volume I




>From this most wretched 'City of the Kings' we sail in a fortnight, from
thence to Guayaquil, Galapagos, Marquesas, Society Islands, etc., etc. 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
Tertiary strata. I am glad to hear you have some thoughts of beginning
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 hammering. 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.


CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.
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, otherwise, I dare
say, I should have seen your handwriting. 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 Cambridge.
Certainly, I never was intended for a traveller; my thoughts are always
rambling over past or future scenes; I 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, and nearly all under the British flag. These will be a poor
field for Natural History, and without it I have lately discovered that the
pleasure of seeing new places is as nothing. I must return to my old
resource and think of the future, but that 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.


CHARLES 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.

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 mentioning
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.


CHARLES 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 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 see me at
Cambridge, where I must directly come to report myself to you, as my first
Lord of the Admiralty. At the Cape of Good Hope we all on board suffered a
bitter disappointment in missing nine months' letters, which are 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 handwriting, 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 memorable piece of good
fortune in meeting Sir J. Herschel. We dined at his house and saw him a
few times besides. He was exceedingly good natured, but his manners at
first appeared 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 collecting, and I afterwards 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.

Goodnight, my dear Henslow,
Yours most truly obliged and affectionately,
CHAS. DARWIN.


CHARLES 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 morning. 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 geological 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.


CHARLES DARWIN TO R. FITZ-ROY.
Shrewsbury, Thursday morning, October 6, [1836].

My dear Fitz-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.
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 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.


CHAPTER 1.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 ultimately 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
conclusion 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 profession after his
return from the voyage, and early in 1840 he wrote to Fitz-Roy: "I have
nothing to wish for, excepting 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 passionate 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 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 unreasonable
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 (The Museum of the Zoological Society,
then at 33 Bruton Street. The collection was some years later broken up
and dispersed.) 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 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 fragments 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 (A
passage in a subsequent letter shows that his plants also gave him some
anxiety. "I met Mr. Brown a few days after you had called on him; he asked
me in rather an ominous manner what I meant to do with my plants. In the
course of conversation Mr. Broderip, who was present, remarked to him, 'You
forget how long it is since Captain King's expedition.' He answered,
'Indeed, I have something in the shape of Captain King's undescribed plants
to make me recollect it.' Could a better reason be given, if I had been
asked, by me, for not giving the plants to the British Museum?") 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
evidently 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, I hear, is so much occupied that there is no chance of his
wishing for specimens of reptiles. I have forgotten to mention Mr.
Lonsdale (William Lonsdale, 1794-1871, was originally in the army, and
served at the battles of Salamanca and Waterloo. After the war he left the
service and gave himself up to science. He acted as assistant secretary to
the Geological Society from 1829-42, when he resigned, owing to ill
health.), 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 (T. Bell, F.R.S., formerly Prof. of Zoology in King's College, London,
and some time secretary to the Royal Society. He afterwards described the
reptiles for the zoology of the voyage of the "Beagle".) 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 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 mammalia 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 Scelidotherium) 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 (I have often heard him speak of the despair with which he had to
break off the projecting extremity of a huge, partly excavated bone, when
the boat waiting for him would wait no longer.) that formed one of the
chief starting-points of his speculation on the origin of species. This is
shown in the following extract from his Pocket Book for this year (1837):
"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."]


1836-1837.

CHARLES 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 Henslow a short but very pleasant visit, I came up to
town to wait for the "Beagle's" arrival. At last I have removed all my
property from on board, and sent the specimens of Natural History to
Cambridge, so that I am now a free man. My London visit has been quite
idle as far as Natural History goes, but has been passed in most exciting
dissipation amongst the Dons in science. All my affairs, indeed, are most
prosperous; 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. When you pay London a visit I shall be very proud to
take you to the Geological Society, for be it known, I was proposed 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.

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