More Letters of Charles Darwin Volume I

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CHAPTER 1.I.--AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT, AND EARLY LETTERS.

1809-1842.

(Chapter I./1. In the process of removing the remainder of Mr. Darwin's
books and papers from Down, the following autobiographical notes, written
in 1838, came to light. They seem to us worth publishing--both as giving
some new facts, and also as illustrating the interest which he clearly felt
in his own development. Many words are omitted in the manuscript, and some
names incorrectly spelled; the corrections which have been made are not
always indicated.)

My earliest recollection, the date of which I can approximately tell, and
which must have been before I was four years old, was when sitting on
Caroline's (Caroline Darwin) knee in the drawing room, whilst she was
cutting an orange for me, a cow ran by the window which made me jump, so
that I received a bad cut, of which I bear the scar to this day. Of this
scene I recollect the place where I sat and the cause of the fright, but
not the cut itself, and I think my memory is real, and not as often happens
in similar cases, [derived] from hearing the thing often repeated, [when]
one obtains so vivid an image, that it cannot be separated from memory:
because I clearly remember which way the cow ran, which would not probably
have been told me. My memory here is an obscure picture, in which from not
recollecting any pain I am scarcely conscious of its reference to myself.

1813.

When I was four years and a half old I went to the sea, and stayed there
some weeks. I remember many things, but with the exception of the
maidservants (and these are not individualised) I recollect none of my
family who were there. I remember either myself or Catherine being
naughty, and being shut up in a room and trying to break the windows. I
have an obscure picture of a house before my eyes, and of a neighbouring
small shop, where the owner gave me one fig, but which to my great joy
turned out to be two: this fig was given me that the man might kiss the
maidservant. I remember a common walk to a kind of well, on the road to
which was a cottage shaded with damascene (Chapter I./2. Damson is derived
from Damascene; the fruit was formerly known as a "Damask Prune.") trees,
inhabited by an old man, called a hermit, with white hair, who used to give
us damascenes. I know not whether the damascenes, or the reverence and
indistinct fear for this old man produced the greatest effect on my memory.
I remember when going there crossing in the carriage a broad ford, and
fear and astonishment of white foaming water has made a vivid impression.
I think memory of events commences abruptly; that is, I remember these
earliest things quite as clearly as others very much later in life, which
were equally impressed on me. Some very early recollections are connected
with fear at Parkfield and with poor Betty Harvey. I remember with horror
her story of people being pushed into the canal by the towing rope, by
going the wrong side of the horse. I had the greatest horror of this
story--keen instinct against death. Some other recollections are those of
vanity--namely, thinking that people were admiring me, in one instance for
perseverance and another for boldness in climbing a low tree, and what is
odder, a consciousness, as if instinctive, that I was vain, and contempt of
myself. My supposed admirer was old Peter Haile the bricklayer, and the
tree the mountain ash on the lawn. All my recollections seem to be
connected most closely with myself; now Catherine (Catherine Darwin) seems
to recollect scenes where others were the chief actors. When my mother
died I was 8 1/2 years old, and [Catherine] one year less, yet she
remembers all particulars and events of each day whilst I scarcely
recollect anything (and so with very many other cases) except being sent
for, the memory of going into her room, my father meeting me--crying
afterwards. I recollect my mother's gown and scarcely anything of her
appearance, except one or two walks with her. I have no distinct
remembrance of any conversation, and those only of a very trivial nature.
I remember her saying "if she did ask me to do something," which I said she
had, "it was solely for my good."

Catherine remembers my mother crying, when she heard of my grandmother's
death. Also when at Parkfield how Aunt Sarah and Aunt Kitty used to
receive her. Susan, like me, only remembers affairs personal. It is
sufficiently odd this [difference] in subjects remembered. Catherine says
she does not remember the impression made upon her by external things, as
scenery, but for things which she reads she has an excellent memory, i.e.,
for ideas. Now her sympathy being ideal, it is part of her character, and
shows how easily her kind of memory was stamped, a vivid thought is
repeated, a vivid impression forgotten.

I remember obscurely the illumination after the battle of Waterloo, and the
Militia exercising about that period, in the field opposite our house.

1817.

At 8 1/2 years old I went to Mr. Case's School. (Chapter I/3. A day-
school at Shrewsbury kept by Rev. G. Case, minister of the Unitarian Chapel
("Life and Letters," Volume I., page 27 et seq.)) I remember how very much
I was afraid of meeting the dogs in Barker Street, and how at school I
could not get up my courage to fight. I was very timid by nature. I
remember I took great delight at school in fishing for newts in the quarry
pool. I had thus young formed a strong taste for collecting, chiefly
seals, franks, etc., but also pebbles and minerals--one which was given me
by some boy decided this taste. I believe shortly after this, or before, I
had smattered in botany, and certainly when at Mr. Case's School I was very
fond of gardening, and invented some great falsehoods about being able to
colour crocuses as I liked. (Chapter I./4. The story is given in the
"Life and Letters," I., page 28, the details being slightly different.) At
this time I felt very strong friendship for some boys. It was soon after I
began collecting stones, i.e., when 9 or 10, that I distinctly recollect
the desire I had of being able to know something about every pebble in
front of the hall door--it was my earliest and only geological aspiration
at that time. I was in those days a very great story-teller--for the pure
pleasure of exciting attention and surprise. I stole fruit and hid it for
these same motives, and injured trees by barking them for similar ends. I
scarcely ever went out walking without saying I had seen a pheasant or some
strange bird (natural history taste); these lies, when not detected, I
presume, excited my attention, as I recollect them vividly, not connected
with shame, though some I do, but as something which by having produced a
great effect on my mind, gave pleasure like a tragedy. I recollect when I
was at Mr. Case's inventing a whole fabric to show how fond I was of
speaking the TRUTH! My invention is still so vivid in my mind, that I
could almost fancy it was true, did not memory of former shame tell me it
was false. I have no particularly happy or unhappy recollections of this
time or earlier periods of my life. I remember well a walk I took with a
boy named Ford across some fields to a farmhouse on the Church Stretton
road. I do not remember any mental pursuits excepting those of collecting
stones, etc., gardening, and about this time often going with my father in
his carriage, telling him of my lessons, and seeing game and other wild
birds, which was a great delight to me. I was born a naturalist.

When I was 9 1/2 years old (July 1818) I went with Erasmus to see
Liverpool: it has left no impressions on my mind, except most trifling
ones--fear of the coach upsetting, a good dinner, and an extremely vague
memory of ships.

In Midsummer of this year I went to Dr. Butler's School. (Chapter I./5.
Darwin entered Dr. Butler's school in Shrewsbury in the summer of 1818, and
remained there till 1825 ("Life and Letters," I., page 30).) I well
recollect the first going there, which oddly enough I cannot of going to
Mr. Case's, the first school of all. I remember the year 1818 well, not
from having first gone to a public school, but from writing those figures
in my school book, accompanied with obscure thoughts, now fulfilled,
whether I should recollect in future life that year.

In September (1818) I was ill with the scarlet fever. I well remember the
wretched feeling of being delirious.

1819, July (10 1/2 years old).

Went to the sea at Plas Edwards and stayed there three weeks, which now
appears to me like three months. (Chapter I./6. Plas Edwards, at Towyn,
on the Welsh coast.) I remember a certain shady green road (where I saw a
snake) and a waterfall, with a degree of pleasure, which must be connected
with the pleasure from scenery, though not directly recognised as such.
The sandy plain before the house has left a strong impression, which is
obscurely connected with an indistinct remembrance of curious insects,
probably a Cimex mottled with red, and Zygaena, the burnet-moth. I was at
that time very passionate (when I swore like a trooper) and quarrelsome.
The former passion has I think nearly wholly but slowly died away. When
journeying there by stage coach I remember a recruiting officer (I think I
should know his face to this day) at tea time, asking the maid-servant for
toasted bread and butter. I was convulsed with laughter and thought it the
quaintest and wittiest speech that ever passed from the mouth of man. Such
is wit at 10 1/2 years old. The memory now flashes across me of the
pleasure I had in the evening on a blowy day walking along the beach by
myself and seeing the gulls and cormorants wending their way home in a wild
and irregular course. Such poetic pleasures, felt so keenly in after
years, I should not have expected so early in life.

1820, July.

Went a riding tour (on old Dobbin) with Erasmus to Pistyll Rhiadr (Chapter
I./7. Pistyll Rhiadr proceeds from Llyn Pen Rhiadr down the Llyfnant to
the Dovey.); of this I recollect little, an indistinct picture of the fall,
but I well remember my astonishment on hearing that fishes could jump up
it.

(Chapter I./8. The autobiographical fragment here comes to an end. The
next letters give some account of Darwin as an Edinburgh student. He has
described ("Life and Letters," I., pages 35-45) his failure to be
interested in the official teaching of the University, his horror at the
operating theatre, and his gradually increasing dislike of medical study,
which finally determined his leaving Edinburgh, and entering Cambridge with
a view to taking Orders.)

LETTER 1. TO R.W. DARWIN.
Sunday Morning [Edinburgh, October, 1825].

My dear Father

As I suppose Erasmus (Erasmus Darwin) has given all the particulars of the
journey, I will say no more about it, except that altogether it has cost me
7 pounds. We got into our lodgings yesterday evening, which are very
comfortable and near the College. Our Landlady, by name Mrs. Mackay, is a
nice clean old body--exceedingly civil and attentive. She lives in "11,
Lothian Street, Edinburgh" (1/1. In a letter printed in the "Edinburgh
Evening Despatch" of May 22nd, 1888, the writer suggested that a tablet
should be placed on the house, 11, Lothian Street. This suggestion was
carried out in 1888 by Mr. Ralph Richardson (Clerk of the Commissary Court,
Edinburgh), who obtained permission from the proprietors to affix a tablet
to the house, setting forth that Charles Darwin resided there as an
Edinburgh University student. We are indebted to Mr. W.K. Dickson for
obtaining for us this information, and to Mr. Ralph Richardson for kindly
supplying us with particulars. See Mr. Richardson's Inaugural Address,
"Trans. Edinb. Geol. Soc." 1894-95; also "Memorable Edinburgh Houses," by
Wilmot Harrison, 1898.), and only four flights of steps from the ground-
floor, which is very moderate to some other lodgings that we were nearly
taking. The terms are 1 pound 6 shillings for two very nice and LIGHT
bedrooms and a sitting-room; by the way, light bedrooms are very scarce
articles in Edinburgh, since most of them are little holes in which there
is neither air nor light. We called on Dr. Hanley the first morning, whom
I think we never should have found, had it not been for a good-natured Dr.
of Divinity who took us into his library and showed us a map, and gave us
directions how to find him. Indeed, all the Scotchmen are so civil and
attentive, that it is enough to make an Englishman ashamed of himself. I
should think Dr. Butler or any other fat English Divine would take two
utter strangers into his library and show them the way! When at last we
found the Doctor, and having made all the proper speeches on both sides, we
all three set out and walked all about the town, which we admire
excessively; indeed Bridge Street is the most extraordinary thing I ever
saw, and when we first looked over the sides, we could hardly believe our
eyes, when instead of a fine river, we saw a stream of people. We spend
all our mornings in promenading about the town, which we know pretty well,
and in the evenings we go to the play to hear Miss Stephens (Probably
Catherine Stephens), which is quite delightful; she is very popular here,
being encored to such a degree, that she can hardly get on with the play.
On Monday we are going to Der F (I do not know how to spell the rest of the
word). (1/2. "Der F" is doubtless "Der Freischutz," which appeared in
1820, and of which a selection was given in London, under Weber's
direction, in 1825. The last of Weber's compositions, "From Chindara's
warbling fount," was written for Miss Stephens, who sang it to his
accompaniment "the last time his fingers touched the key-board." (See
"Dict. of Music," "Stephens" and "Weber.")) Before we got into our
lodgings, we were staying at the Star Hotel in Princes St., where to my
surprise I met with an old schoolfellow, whom I like very much; he is just
come back from a walking tour in Switzerland and is now going to study for
his [degree?] The introductory lectures begin next Wednesday, and we were
matriculated for them on Saturday; we pay 10s., and write our names in a
book, and the ceremony is finished; but the Library is not free to us till
we get a ticket from a Professor. We just have been to Church and heard a
sermon of only 20 minutes. I expected, from Sir Walter Scott's account, a
soul-cutting discourse of 2 hours and a half.

I remain your affectionate son,
C. DARWIN.

LETTER 2. TO CAROLINE DARWIN.
January 6th, 1826. Edinburgh.

Many thanks for your very entertaining letter, which was a great relief
after hearing a long stupid lecture from Duncan on Materia Medica, but as
you know nothing either of the Lectures or Lecturers, I will give you a
short account of them. Dr. Duncan is so very learned that his wisdom has
left no room for his sense, and he lectures, as I have already said, on the
Materia Medica, which cannot be translated into any word expressive enough
of its stupidity. These few last mornings, however, he has shown signs of
improvement, and I hope he will "go on as well as can be expected." His
lectures begin at eight in the morning. Dr. Hope begins at ten o'clock,
and I like both him and his lectures VERY much (after which Erasmus goes to
"Mr. Sizars on Anatomy," who is a charming Lecturer). At 12 the Hospital,
after which I attend Monro on Anatomy. I dislike him and his lectures so
much, that I cannot speak with decency about them. Thrice a week we have
what is called Clinical lectures, which means lectures on the sick people
in the Hospital--these I like very much. I said this account should be
short, but I am afraid it has been too long, like the lectures themselves.

I will be a good boy and tell something about Johnson again (not but what I
am very much surprised that Papa should so forget himself as call me, a
Collegian in the University of Edinburgh, a boy). He has changed his
lodgings for the third time; he has got very cheap ones, but I am afraid it
will not answer, for they must make up by cheating. I hope you like
Erasmus' official news, he means to begin every letter so. You mentioned
in your letter that Emma was staying with you: if she is not gone, ask her
to tell Jos that I have not succeeded in getting any titanium, but that I
will try again...I want to know how old I shall be next birthday--I believe
17, and if so, I shall be forced to go abroad for one year, since it is
necessary that I shall have completed my 21st year before I take my degree.
Now you have no business to be frowning and puzzling over this letter, for
I did not promise to write a good hand to you.

LETTER 3. TO J.S. HENSLOW.

(3/1. Extracts from Darwin's letters to Henslow were read before the
Cambridge Philosophical Society on November 16th, 1835. Some of the
letters were subsequently printed, in an 8vo pamphlet of 31 pages, dated
December 1st, 1835, for private distribution among the members of the
Society. A German translation by W. Preyer appeared in the "Deutsche
Rundschau," June 1891.)

[15th August, 1832. Monte Video.]

We are now beating up the Rio Plata, and I take the opportunity of
beginning a letter to you. I did not send off the specimens from Rio
Janeiro, as I grudged the time it would take to pack them up. They are now
ready to be sent off and most probably go by this packet. If so they go to
Falmouth (where Fitz-Roy has made arrangements) and so will not trouble
your brother's agent in London. When I left England I was not fully aware
how essential a kindness you offered me when you undertook to receive my
boxes. I do not know what I should do without such head-quarters. And now
for an apologetical prose about my collection: I am afraid you will say it
is very small, but I have not been idle, and you must recollect what a very
small show hundreds of species make. The box contains a good many
geological specimens; I am well aware that the greater number are too
small. But I maintain that no person has a right to accuse me, till he has
tried carrying rocks under a tropical sun. I have endeavoured to get
specimens of every variety of rock, and have written notes upon all. If
you think it worth your while to examine any of them I shall be very glad
of some mineralogical information, especially on any numbers between 1 and
254 which include Santiago rocks. By my catalogue I shall know which you
may refer to. As for my plants, "pudet pigetque mihi." All I can say is
that when objects are present which I can observe and particularise about,
I cannot summon resolution to collect when I know nothing.

It is positively distressing to walk in the glorious forest amidst such
treasures and feel they are all thrown away upon one. My collection from
the Abrolhos is interesting, as I suspect it nearly contains the whole
flowering vegetation--and indeed from extreme sterility the same may almost
be said of Santiago. I have sent home four bottles with animals in
spirits, I have three more, but would not send them till I had a fourth. I
shall be anxious to hear how they fare. I made an enormous collection of
Arachnidae at Rio, also a good many small beetles in pill boxes, but it is
not the best time of year for the latter. Amongst the lower animals
nothing has so much interested me as finding two species of elegantly
coloured true Planaria inhabiting the dewy forest! The false relation they
bear to snails is the most extraordinary thing of the kind I have ever
seen. In the same genus (or more truly family) some of the marine species
possess an organisation so marvellous that I can scarcely credit my
eyesight. Every one has heard of the discoloured streaks of water in the
equatorial regions. One I examined was owing to the presence of such
minute Oscillariae that in each square inch of surface there must have been
at least one hundred thousand present. After this I had better be silent,
for you will think me a Baron Munchausen amongst naturalists. Most
assuredly I might collect a far greater number of specimens of Invertebrate
animals if I took less time over each; but I have come to the conclusion
that two animals with their original colour and shape noted down will be
more valuable to naturalists than six with only dates and place. I hope
you will send me your criticisms about my collection; and it will be my
endeavour that nothing you say shall be lost on me. I would send home my
writings with my specimens, only I find I have so repeatedly occasion to
refer back that it would be a serious loss to me. I cannot conclude about
my collection without adding that I implicitly trust in your keeping an
exact account against all the expense of boxes, etc., etc. At this present
minute we are at anchor in the mouth of the river, and such a strange scene
as it is. Everything is in flames--the sky with lightning, the water with
luminous particles, and even the very masts are pointed with a blue flame.
I expect great interest in scouring over the plains of Monte Video, yet I
look back with regret to the Tropics, that magic lure to all naturalists.
The delight of sitting on a decaying trunk amidst the quiet gloom of the
forest is unspeakable and never to be forgotten. How often have I then
wished for you. When I see a banana I well recollect admiring them with
you in Cambridge--little did I then think how soon I should eat their
fruit.

August 15th. In a few days the box will go by the "Emulous" packet (Capt.
Cooke) to Falmouth and will be forwarded to you. This letter goes the same
way, so that if in course of due time you do not receive the box, will you
be kind enough to write to Falmouth? We have been here (Monte Video) for
some time; but owing to bad weather and continual fighting on shore, we
have scarcely ever been able to walk in the country. I have collected
during the last month nothing, but to-day I have been out and returned like
Noah's Ark with animals of all sorts. I have to-day to my astonishment
found two Planariae living under dry stones: ask L. Jenyns if he has ever
heard of this fact. I also found a most curious snail, and spiders,
beetles, snakes, scorpions ad libitum, and to conclude shot a Cavia
weighing a cwt.--On Friday we sail for the Rio Negro, and then will
commence our real wild work. I look forward with dread to the wet stormy
regions of the south, but after so much pleasure I must put up with some
sea-sickness and misery.

LETTER 4. TO J.S. HENSLOW.
Monte Video, 24th November 1832.

We arrived here on the 24th of October, after our first cruise on the coast
of Patagonia. North of the Rio Negro we fell in with some little schooners
employed in sealing: to save the loss of time in surveying the intricate
mass of banks, Capt. Fitz-Roy has hired two of them and has put officers on
them. It took us nearly a month fitting them out; as soon as this was
finished we came back here, and are now preparing for a long cruise to the
south. I expect to find the wild mountainous country of Terra del Fuego
very interesting, and after the coast of Patagonia I shall thoroughly enjoy
it.--I had hoped for the credit of Dame Nature, no such country as this
last existed; in sad reality we coasted along 240 miles of sand hillocks; I
never knew before, what a horrid ugly object a sand hillock is. The famed
country of the Rio Plata in my opinion is not much better: an enormous
brackish river, bounded by an interminable green plain is enough to make
any naturalist groan. So Hurrah for Cape Horn and the Land of Storms. Now
that I have had my growl out, which is a privilege sailors take on all
occasions, I will turn the tables and give an account of my doing in Nat.
History. I must have one more growl: by ill luck the French Government
has sent one of its collectors to the Rio Negro, where he has been working
for the last six months, and is now gone round the Horn. So that I am very
selfishly afraid he will get the cream of all the good things before me.
As I have nobody to talk to about my luck and ill luck in collecting, I am
determined to vent it all upon you. I have been very lucky with fossil
bones; I have fragments of at least 6 distinct animals: as many of them
are teeth, I trust, shattered and rolled as they have been, they will be
recognised. I have paid all the attention I am capable of to their
geological site; but of course it is too long a story for here. 1st, I
have the tarsi and metatarsi very perfect of a Cavia; 2nd, the upper jaw
and head of some very large animal with four square hollow molars and the
head greatly protruded in front. I at first thought it belonged either to
the Megalonyx or Megatherium (4/1. The animal may probably have been
Grypotherium Darwini, Ow. The osseous plates mentioned below must have
belonged to one of the Glyptodontidae, and not to Megatherium. We are
indebted to Mr. Kerr for calling our attention to a passage in Buckland's
"Bridgewater Treatise" (Volume II., page 20, note), where bony armour is
ascribed to Megatherium.); in confirmation of this in the same formation I
found a large surface of the osseous polygonal plates, which "late
observations" (what are they?) show belong to the Megatherium. Immediately
I saw this I thought they must belong to an enormous armadillo, living
species of which genus are so abundant here. 3rd, The lower jaw of some
large animal which, from the molar teeth, I should think belonged to the
Edentata; 4th, some large molar teeth which in some respects would seem to
belong to an enormous rodent; 5th, also some smaller teeth belonging to the
same order. If it interests you sufficiently to unpack them, I shall be
very curious to hear something about them. Care must be taken in this case
not to confuse the tallies. They are mingled with marine shells which
appear to me identical with what now exist. But since they were deposited
in their beds several geological changes have taken place in the country.
So much for the dead, and now for the living: there is a poor specimen of
a bird which to my unornithological eyes appears to be a happy mixture of a
lark, pigeon and snipe (No. 710). Mr. MacLeay himself never imagined such
an inosculating creature: I suppose it will turn out to be some well-known
bird, although it has quite baffled me. I have taken some interesting
Amphibia; a new Trigonocephalus beautifully connecting in its habits
Crotalus and the Viperidae, and plenty of new (as far as my knowledge goes)
saurians. As for one little toad, I hope it may be new, that it may be
christened "diabolicus." Milton must allude to this very individual when
he talks of "squat like a toad"
(4/2. "...him [Satan] there they [Ithuriel and Zephon] found,
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve"
("Paradise Lost," Book IV., line 800).