Etext of The Autobiography of Charles Darwinby Charles DarwinThe Autobiography of Charles DarwinFrom The Life and Letters of Charles DarwinEdited by his SonFrancis Darwin[My father's autobiographical recollections, given in the presentchapter, were written for his children,--and written without anythought that they would ever be published. To many this may seeman impossibility; but those who knew my father will understandhow it was not only possible, but natural. The autobiographybears the heading, 'Recollections of the Development of my Mindand Character,' and end with the following note:--"Aug. 3, 1876. This sketch of my life was begun about May 28th at Hopedene (Mr.Hensleigh Wedgwood's house in Surrey.), and since then I havewritten for nearly an hour on most afternoons." It will easilybe understood that, in a narrative of a personal and intimatekind written for his wife and children, passages should occurwhich must here be omitted; and I have not thought it necessaryto indicate where such omissions are made. It has been foundnecessary to make a few corrections of obvious verbal slips, butthe number of such alterations has been kept down to theminimum.--F.D.]A German Editor having written to me for an account of thedevelopment of my mind and character with some sketch of myautobiography, I have thought that the attempt would amuse me,and might possibly interest my children or their children. Iknow that it would have interested me greatly to have read evenso short and dull a sketch of the mind of my grandfather, writtenby himself, and what he thought and did, and how he worked. Ihave attempted to write the following account of myself, as if Iwere 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 12th, 1809, and my earliestrecollection goes back only to when I was a few months over fouryears old, when we went to near Abergele for sea-bathing, and Irecollect some events and places there with some littledistinctness.My mother died in July 1817, when I was a little over eight yearsold, and it is odd that I can remember hardly anything about herexcept her death-bed, her black velvet gown, and her curiouslyconstructed work-table. In the spring of this same year I wassent to a day-school in Shrewsbury, where I stayed a year. Ihave been told that I was much slower in learning than my youngersister Catherine, and I believe that I was in many ways a naughtyboy.By the time I went to this day-school (Kept by Rev. G. Case,minister of the Unitarian Chapel in the High Street. Mrs. Darwinwas a Unitarian and attended Mr. Case's chapel, and my father asa little boy went there with his elder sisters. But both he andhis brother were christened and intended to belong to the Churchof England; and after his early boyhood he seems usually to havegone to church and not to Mr. Case's. It appears ("St. James'Gazette", Dec. 15, 1883) that a mural tablet has been erected tohis memory in the chapel, which is now known as the 'FreeChristian Church.') my taste for natural history, and moreespecially for collecting, was well developed. I tried to makeout the names of plants (Rev. W.A. Leighton, who was aschoolfellow of my father's at Mr. Case's school, remembers hisbringing a flower to school and saying that his mother had taughthim how by looking at the inside of the blossom the name of theplant could be discovered. Mr. Leighton goes on, "This greatlyroused my attention and curiosity, and I enquired of himrepeatedly how this could be done?"--but his lesson was naturallyenough not transmissible.--F.D.), and collected all sorts ofthings, shells, seals, franks, coins, and minerals. The passionfor collecting which leads a man to be a systematic naturalist, avirtuoso, or a miser, was very strong in me, and was clearlyinnate, as none of my sisters or brother ever had this taste.One little event during this year has fixed itself very firmly inmy mind, and I hope that it has done so from my conscience havingbeen afterwards sorely troubled by it; it is curious as showingthat apparently I was interested at this early age in thevariability of plants! I told another little boy (I believe itwas Leighton, who afterwards became a well-known lichenologistand botanist), that I could produce variously colouredpolyanthuses and primroses by watering them with certain colouredfluids, which was of course a monstrous fable, and had never beentried by me. I may here also confess that as a little boy I wasmuch given to inventing deliberate falsehoods, and this wasalways done for the sake of causing excitement. For instance, Ionce gathered much valuable fruit from my father's trees and hidit in the shrubbery, and then ran in breathless haste to spreadthe news that I had discovered a hoard of stolen fruit.I must have been a very simple little fellow when I first went tothe school. A boy of the name of Garnett took me into a cakeshop one day, and bought some cakes for which he did not pay, asthe shopman trusted him. When we came out I asked him why he didnot pay for them, and he instantly answered, "Why, do you notknow that my uncle left a great sum of money to the town oncondition that every tradesman should give whatever was wantedwithout payment to any one who wore his old hat and moved [it] ina particular manner?" and he then showed me how it was moved. Hethen went into another shop where he was trusted, and asked forsome small article, moving his hat in the proper manner, and ofcourse obtained it without payment. When we came out he said,"Now if you like to go by yourself into that cake-shop (how wellI remember its exact position) I will lend you my hat, and youcan get whatever you like if you move the hat on your headproperly." I gladly accepted the generous offer, and went in andasked for some cakes, moved the old hat and was walking out ofthe shop, when the shopman made a rush at me, so I dropped thecakes and ran for dear life, and was astonished by being greetedwith shouts of laughter by my false friend Garnett.I can say in my own favour that I was as a boy humane, but I owedthis entirely to the instruction and example of my sisters. Idoubt indeed whether humanity is a natural or innate quality. Iwas very fond of collecting eggs, but I never took more than asingle 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 ofhours on the bank of a river or pond watching the float; when atMaer (The house of his uncle, Josiah Wedgwood.) I was told that Icould kill the worms with salt and water, and from that day Inever spitted a living worm, though at the expense probably ofsome loss of success.Once as a very little boy whilst at the day school, or beforethat time, I acted cruelly, for I beat a puppy, I believe, simplyfrom enjoying the sense of power; but the beating could not havebeen severe, for the puppy did not howl, of which I feel sure, asthe spot was near the house. This act lay heavily on myconscience, as is shown by my remembering the exact spot wherethe crime was committed. It probably lay all the heavier from mylove of dogs being then, and for a long time afterwards, apassion. Dogs seemed to know this, for I was an adept in robbingtheir love from their masters.I remember clearly only one other incident during this yearwhilst at Mr. Case's daily school,--namely, the burial of adragoon soldier; and it is surprising how clearly I can still seethe horse with the man's empty boots and carbine suspended to thesaddle, and the firing over the grave. This scene deeply stirredwhatever poetic fancy there was in me.In the summer of 1818 I went to Dr. Butler's great school inShrewsbury, and remained there for seven years still Midsummer1825, when I was sixteen years old. I boarded at this school, sothat I had the great advantage of living the life of a trueschoolboy; but as the distance was hardly more than a mile to myhome, I very often ran there in the longer intervals between thecallings over and before locking up at night. This, I think, wasin many ways advantageous to me by keeping up home affections andinterests. I remember in the early part of my school life that Ioften had to run very quickly to be in time, and from being afleet runner was generally successful; but when in doubt I prayedearnestly to God to help me, and I well remember that Iattributed 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 veryyoung boy, a strong taste for long solitary walks; but what Ithought about I know not. I often became quite absorbed, andonce, whilst returning to school on the summit of the oldfortifications round Shrewsbury, which had been converted into apublic foot-path with no parapet on one side, I walked off andfell to the ground, but the height was only seven or eight feet. Nevertheless the number of thoughts which passed through my mindduring this very short, but sudden and wholly unexpected fall,was astonishing, and seem hardly compatible with whatphysiologists have, I believe, proved about each thoughtrequiring quite an appreciable amount of time.Nothing could have been worse for the development of my mind thanDr. Butler's school, as it was strictly classical, nothing elsebeing taught, except a little ancient geography and history. Theschool as a means of education to me was simply a blank. Duringmy whole life I have been singularly incapable of mastering anylanguage. Especial attention was paid to verse-making, and thisI could never do well. I had many friends, and got together agood 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 theprevious day; this I could effect with great facility, learningforty or fifty lines of Virgil or Homer, whilst I was in morningchapel; but this exercise was utterly useless, for every versewas forgotten in forty-eight hours. I was not idle, and with theexception of versification, generally worked conscientiously atmy classics, not using cribs. The sole pleasure I ever receivedfrom such studies, was from some of the odes of Horace, which Iadmired greatly.When I left the school I was for my age neither high nor low init; and I believe that I was considered by all my masters and bymy father as a very ordinary boy, rather below the commonstandard in intellect. To my deep mortification my father oncesaid to me, "You care for nothing but shooting, dogs, and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace to yourself and all yourfamily." But my father, who was the kindest man I ever knew andwhose memory I love with all my heart, must have been angry andsomewhat unjust when he used such words.Looking back as well as I can at my character during my schoollife, the only qualities which at this period promised well forthe future, were, that I had strong and diversified tastes, muchzeal for whatever interested me, and a keen pleasure inunderstanding any complex subject or thing. I was taught Euclidby a private tutor, and I distinctly remember the intensesatisfaction which the clear geometrical proofs gave me. Iremember, with equal distinctness, the delight which my unclegave me (the father of Francis Galton) by explaining theprinciple of the vernier of a barometer. with respect todiversified tastes, independently of science, I was fond ofreading various books, and I used to sit for hours reading thehistorical plays of Shakespeare, generally in an old window inthe thick walls of the school. I read also other poetry, such asThomson's 'Seasons,' and the recently published poems of Byronand 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 firstawakened in my mind, during a riding tour on the borders ofWales, and this has lasted longer than any other aestheticpleasure.Early in my school days a boy had a copy of the 'Wonders of theWorld,' which I often read, and disputed with other boys aboutthe veracity of some of the statements; and I believe that thisbook first gave me a wish to travel in remote countries, whichwas ultimately fulfilled by the voyage of the "Beagle". In thelatter part of my school life I became passionately fond ofshooting; I do not believe that any one could have shown morezeal for the most holy cause than I did for shooting birds. Howwell I remember killing my first snipe, and my excitement was sogreat that I had much difficulty in reloading my gun from thetrembling of my hands. This taste long continued, and I became avery good shot. When at Cambridge I used to practise throwing upmy gun to my shoulder before a looking-glass to see that I threwit up straight. Another and better plan was to get a friend towave about a lighted candle, and then to fire at it with a cap onthe nipple, and if the aim was accurate the little puff of airwould blow out the candle. The explosion of the cap caused asharp crack, and I was told that the tutor of the collegeremarked, "What an extraordinary thing it is, Mr. Darwin seems tospend hours in cracking a horse-whip in his room, for I oftenhear 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 withmuch zeal, but quite unscientifically--all that I cared about wasa new-NAMED mineral, and I hardly attempted to classify them. Imust have observed insects with some little care, for when tenyears old (1819) I went for three weeks to Plas Edwards on thesea-coast in Wales, I was very much interested and surprised atseeing a large black and scarlet Hemipterous insect, many moths(Zygaena), and a Cicindela which are not found in Shropshire. Ialmost made up my mind to begin collecting all the insects whichI could find dead, for on consulting my sister I concluded thatit was not right to kill insects for the sake of making acollection. From reading White's 'Selborne,' I took muchpleasure in watching the habits of birds, and even made notes onthe subject. In my simplicity I remember wondering why everygentleman did not become an ornithologist.Towards the close of my school life, my brother worked hard atchemistry, and made a fair laboratory with proper apparatus inthe tool-house in the garden, and I was allowed to aid him as aservant in most of his experiments. He made all the gases andmany compounds, and I read with great care several books onchemistry, such as Henry and Parkes' 'Chemical Catechism.' Thesubject interested me greatly, and we often used to go on workingtill rather late at night. This was the best part of myeducation at school, for it showed me practically the meaning ofexperimental science. The fact that we worked at chemistrysomehow got known at school, and as it was an unprecedented fact,I was nicknamed "Gas." I was also once publicly rebuked by thehead-master, Dr. Butler, for thus wasting my time on such uselesssubjects; and he called me very unjustly a "poco curante," and asI did not understand what he meant, it seemed to me a fearfulreproach.As I was doing no good at school, my father wisely took me awayat a rather earlier age than usual, and sent me (Oct. 1825) toEdinburgh University with my brother, where I stayed for twoyears or sessions. My brother was completing his medicalstudies, though I do not believe he ever really intended topractise, and I was sent there to commence them. But soon afterthis period I became convinced from various small circumstancesthat my father would leave me property enough to subsist on withsome comfort, though I never imagined that I should be so rich aman as I am; but my belief was sufficient to check any strenuousefforts to learn medicine.The instruction at Edinburgh was altogether by lectures, andthese were intolerably dull, with the exception of those onchemistry by Hope; but to my mind there are no advantages andmany disadvantages in lectures compared with reading. Dr.Duncan's lectures on Materia Medica at 8 o'clock on a winter'smorning are something fearful to remember. Dr.-- made hislectures on human anatomy as dull as he was himself, and thesubject disgusted me. It has proved one of the greatest evils inmy life that I was not urged to practise dissection, for I shouldsoon have got over my disgust; and the practice would have beeninvaluable for all my future work. This has been an irremediableevil, as well as my incapacity to draw. I also attendedregularly the clinical wards in the hospital. Some of the casesdistressed me a good deal, and I still have vivid pictures beforeme of some of them; but I was not so foolish as to allow this tolessen my attendance. I cannot understand why this part of mymedical course did not interest me in a greater degree; forduring the summer before coming to Edinburgh I began attendingsome of the poor people, chiefly children and women inShrewsbury: I wrote down as full an account as I could of thecase with all the symptoms, and read them aloud to my father, whosuggested further inquiries and advised me what medicines togive, which I made up myself. At one time I had at least a dozenpatients, and I felt a keen interest in the work. My father, whowas by far the best judge of character whom I ever knew, declaredthat I should make a successful physician,--meaning by this onewho would get many patients. He maintained that the chiefelement of success was exciting confidence; but what he saw in mewhich convinced him that I should create confidence I know not. I also attended on two occasions the operating theatre in thehospital at Edinburgh, and saw two very bad operations, one on achild, but I rushed away before they were completed. Nor did Iever attend again, for hardly any inducement would have beenstrong enough to make me do so; this being long before theblessed days of chloroform. The two cases fairly haunted me formany a long year.My brother stayed only one year at the University, so that duringthe second year I was left to my own resources; and this was anadvantage, for I became well acquainted with several young menfond of natural science. One of these was Ainsworth, whoafterwards published his travels in Assyria; he was a Werneriangeologist, and knew a little about many subjects. Dr. Coldstreamwas a very different young man, prim, formal, highly religious,and most kind-hearted; he afterwards published some goodzoological articles. A third young man was Hardie, who would, Ithink, have made a good botanist, but died early in India. Lastly, Dr. Grant, my senior by several years, but how I becameacquainted with him I cannot remember; he published some first-rate zoological papers, but after coming to London as Professorin University College, he did nothing more in science, a factwhich has always been inexplicable to me. I knew him well; hewas dry and formal in manner, with much enthusiasm beneath thisouter crust. He one day, when we were walking together, burstforth in high admiration of Lamarck and his views on evolution. I listened in silent astonishment, and as far as I can judgewithout any effect on my mind. I had previously read the'Zoonomia' of my grandfather, in which similar views aremaintained, but without producing any effect on me. Neverthelessit is probable that the hearing rather early in life such viewsmaintained and praised may have favoured my upholding them undera different form in my 'Origin of Species.' At this time Iadmired greatly the 'Zoonomia;' but on reading it a second timeafter an interval of ten or fifteen years, I was muchdisappointed; the proportion of speculation being so large to thefacts given.Drs. Grant and Coldstream attended much to marine Zoology, and Ioften accompanied the former to collect animals in the tidalpools, which I dissected as well as I could. I also becamefriends with some of the Newhaven fishermen, and sometimesaccompanied them when they trawled for oysters, and thus got manyspecimens. But from not having had any regular practice indissection, and from possessing only a wretched microscope, myattempts were very poor. Nevertheless I made one interestinglittle discovery, and read, about the beginning of the year 1826,a short paper on the subject before the Plinian Society. Thiswas that the so-called ova of Flustra had the power ofindependent movement by means of cilia, and were in fact larvae. In another short paper I showed that the little globular bodieswhich had been supposed to be the young state of Fucus loreuswere the egg-cases of the wormlike Pontobdella muricata.The Plinian Society was encouraged and, I believe, founded byProfessor Jameson: it consisted of students and met in anunderground room in the University for the sake of reading paperson natural science and discussing them. I used regularly toattend, and the meetings had a good effect on me in stimulatingmy zeal and giving me new congenial acquaintances. One evening apoor young man got up, and after stammering for a prodigiouslength of time, blushing crimson, he at last slowly got out thewords, "Mr. President, I have forgotten what I was going to say." The poor fellow looked quite overwhelmed, and all the memberswere so surprised that no one could think of a word to say tocover his confusion. The papers which were read to our littlesociety were not printed, so that I had not the satisfaction ofseeing my paper in print; but I believe Dr. Grant noticed mysmall discovery in his excellent memoir on Flustra.I was also a member of the Royal Medical Society, and attendedpretty regularly; but as the subjects were exclusively medical, Idid not much care about them. Much rubbish was talked there, butthere were some good speakers, of whom the best was the presentSir J. Kay-Shuttleworth. Dr. Grant took me occasionally to themeetings of the Wernerian Society, where various papers onnatural history were read, discussed, and afterwards published inthe 'Transactions.' I heard Audubon deliver there someinteresting discourses on the habits of N. American birds,sneering somewhat unjustly at Waterton. By the way, a negrolived in Edinburgh, who had travelled with Waterton, and gainedhis livelihood by stuffing birds, which he did excellently: hegave 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 RoyalSociety of Edinburgh, where I saw Sir Walter Scott in the chairas President, and he apologised to the meeting as not feelingfitted for such a position. I looked at him and at the wholescene with some awe and reverence, and I think it was owing tothis visit during my youth, and to my having attended the RoyalMedical Society, that I felt the honour of being elected a fewyears ago an honorary member of both these Societies, more thanany other similar honour. If I had been told at that time that Ishould one day have been thus honoured, I declare that I shouldhave thought it as ridiculous and improbable, as if I had beentold that I should be elected King of England.During my second year at Edinburgh I attended --'s lectures onGeology and Zoology, but they were incredibly dull. The soleeffect they produced on me was the determination never as long asI lived to read a book on Geology, or in any way to study thescience. Yet I feel sure that I was prepared for a philosophicaltreatment of the subject; for an old Mr. Cotton in Shropshire,who knew a good deal about rocks, had pointed out to me two orthree years previously a well-known large erratic boulder in thetown of Shrewsbury, called the "bell-stone"; he told me thatthere was no rock of the same kind nearer than Cumberland orScotland, and he solemnly assured me that the world would come toan end before any one would be able to explain how this stonecame where it now lay. This produced a deep impression on me,and I meditated over this wonderful stone. So that I felt thekeenest delight when I first read of the action of icebergs intransporting boulders, and I gloried in the progress of Geology. Equally striking is the fact that I, though now only sixty-sevenyears old, heard the Professor, in a field lecture at SalisburyCraigs, discoursing on a trapdyke, with amygdaloidal margins andthe strata indurated on each side, with volcanic rocks all aroundus, say that it was a fissure filled with sediment from above,adding with a sneer that there were men who maintained that ithad been injected from beneath in a molten condition. When Ithink of this lecture, I do not wonder that I determined never toattend to Geology.>From attending --'s lectures, I became acquainted with thecurator of the museum, Mr. Macgillivray, who afterwards publisheda large and excellent book on the birds of Scotland. I had muchinteresting natural-history talk with him, and he was very kindto me. He gave me some rare shells, for I at that time collectedmarine mollusca, but with no great zeal.My summer vacations during these two years were wholly given upto amusements, though I always had some book in hand, which Iread with interest. During the summer of 1826 I took a longwalking tour with two friends with knapsacks on our backs throughNorth wales. We walked thirty miles most days, including one daythe ascent of Snowdon. I also went with my sister a riding tourin North Wales, a servant with saddle-bags carrying our clothes. The autumns were devoted to shooting chiefly at Mr. Owen's, atWoodhouse, and at my Uncle Jos's (Josiah Wedgwood, the son of thefounder of the Etruria Works.) at Maer. My zeal was so greatthat I used to place my shooting-boots open by my bed-side when Iwent to bed, so as not to lose half a minute in putting them onin the morning; and on one occasion I reached a distant part ofthe Maer estate, on the 20th of August for black-game shooting,before I could see: I then toiled on with the game-keeper thewhole day through thick heath and young Scotch firs.I kept an exact record of every bird which I shot throughout thewhole season. One day when shooting at Woodhouse with CaptainOwen, the eldest son, and Major Hill, his cousin, afterwards LordBerwick, both of whom I liked very much, I thought myselfshamefully used, for every time after I had fired and thoughtthat I had killed a bird, one of the two acted as if loading hisgun, and cried out, "You must not count that bird, for I fired atthe same time," and the gamekeeper, perceiving the joke, backedthem up. After some hours they told me the joke, but it was nojoke to me, for I had shot a large number of birds, but did notknow how many, and could not add them to my list, which I used todo 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 beenhalf-consciously ashamed of my zeal, for I tried to persuademyself that shooting was almost an intellectual employment; itrequired so much skill to judge where to find most game and tohunt the dogs well.One of my autumnal visits to Maer in 1827 was memorable frommeeting there Sir J. Mackintosh, who was the best converser Iever listened to. I heard afterwards with a glow of pride thathe had said, "There is something in that young man that interestsme." This must have been chiefly due to his perceiving that Ilistened with much interest to everything which he said, for Iwas as ignorant as a pig about his subjects of history, politics,and moral 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 rightcourse.My visits to Maer during these two or three succeeding years werequite delightful, independently of the autumnal shooting. Lifethere was perfectly free; the country was very pleasant forwalking or riding; and in the evening there was much veryagreeable conversation, not so personal as it generally is inlarge family parties, together with music. In the summer thewhole family used often to sit on the steps of the old portico,with the flower-garden in front, and with the steep wooded bankopposite the house reflected in the lake, with here and there afish rising or a water-bird paddling about. Nothing has left amore vivid picture on my mind than these evenings at Maer. I wasalso attached to and greatly revered my Uncle Jos; he was silentand reserved, so as to be a rather awful man; but he sometimestalked openly with me. He was the very type of an upright man,with the clearest judgment. I do not believe that any power onearth could have made him swerve an inch from what he consideredthe 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 "necvultus tyranni, etc.," come in.(Justum et tenacem propositi virumNon civium ardor prava jubentiumNon vultus instantis tyranniMente quatit solida.)CAMBRIDGE 1828-1831.After having spent two sessions in Edinburgh, my fatherperceived, or he heard from my sisters, that I did not like thethought of being a physician, so he proposed that I should becomea clergyman. He was very properly vehement against my turninginto an idle sporting man, which then seemed my probabledestination. I asked for some time to consider, as from whatlittle I had heard or thought on the subject I had scruples aboutdeclaring my belief in all the dogmas of the Church of England;though otherwise I liked the thought of being a countryclergyman. Accordingly I read with care 'Pearson on the Creed,'and a few other books on divinity; and as I did not then in theleast doubt the strict and literal truth of every word in theBible, I soon persuaded myself that our Creed must be fullyaccepted.Considering how fiercely I have been attacked by the orthodox, itseems ludicrous that I once intended to be a clergyman. Nor wasthis intention and my father's wish ever formerly given up, butdied a natural 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 clergyman. A few yearsago the secretaries of a German psychological society asked meearnestly by letter for a photograph of myself; and some timeafterwards I received the proceedings of one of the meetings, inwhich it seemed that the shape of my head had been the subject ofa public discussion, and one of the speakers declared that I hadthe bump of reverence developed enough for ten priests.As it was decided that I should be a clergyman, it was necessarythat I should go to one of the English universities and take adegree; but as I had never opened a classical book since leavingschool, I found to my dismay, that in the two intervening years Ihad actually forgotten, incredible as it may appear, almosteverything which I had learnt, even to some few of the Greekletters. I did not therefore proceed to Cambridge at the usualtime in October, but worked with a private tutor in Shrewsbury,and went to Cambridge after the Christmas vacation, early in1828. I soon recovered my school standard of knowledge, andcould translate easy Greek books, such as Homer and the GreekTestament, with moderate facility.During the three years which I spent at Cambridge my time waswasted, as far as the academical studies were concerned, ascompletely as at Edinburgh and at school. I attemptedmathematics, and even went during the summer of 1828 with aprivate tutor (a very dull man) to Barmouth, but I got on veryslowly. The work was repugnant to me, chiefly from my not beingable to see any meaning in the early steps in algebra. Thisimpatience was very foolish, and in after years I have deeplyregretted that I did not proceed far enough at least tounderstand something of the great leading principles ofmathematics, for men thus endowed seem to have an extra sense. But I do not believe that I should ever have succeeded beyond avery low grade. With respect to Classics I did nothing exceptattend a few compulsory college lectures, and the attendance wasalmost nominal. In my second year I had to work for a month ortwo to pass the Little-Go, which I did easily. Again, in my lastyear I worked with some earnestness for my final degree of B.A.,and brushed up my Classics, together with a little Algebra andEuclid, which latter gave me much pleasure, as it did at school. In order to pass the B.A. examination, it was also necessary toget up Paley's 'Evidences of Christianity,' and his 'MoralPhilosophy.' This was done in a thorough manner, and I amconvinced that I could have written out the whole of the'Evidences' with perfect correctness, but not of course in theclear language of Paley. The logic of this book and, as I mayadd, of his 'Natural Theology,' gave me as much delight as didEuclid. The careful study of these works, without attempting tolearn any part by rote, was the only part of the academicalcourse which, as I then felt and as I still believe, was of theleast use to me in the education of my mind. I did not at thattime trouble myself about Paley's premises; and taking these ontrust, I was charmed and convinced by the long line ofargumentation. By answering well the examination questions inPaley, by doing Euclid well, and by not failing miserably inClassics, I gained a good place among the oi polloi or crowd ofmen who do not go in for honours. Oddly enough, I cannotremember how high I stood, and my memory fluctuates between thefifth, tenth, or twelfth, name on the list. (Tenth in the listof January 1831.)Public lectures on several branches were given in the University,attendance being quite voluntary; but I was so sickened withlectures at Edinburgh that I did not even attend Sedgwick'seloquent and interesting lectures. Had I done so I shouldprobably have become a geologist earlier than I did. I attended,however, Henslow's lectures on Botany, and liked them much fortheir extreme clearness, and the admirable illustrations; but Idid not study botany. Henslow used to take his pupils, includingseveral of the older members of the University, field excursions,on foot or in coaches, to distant places, or in a barge down theriver, and lectured on the rarer plants and animals which wereobserved. These excursions were delightful.Although, as we shall presently see, there were some redeemingfeatures in my life at Cambridge, my time was sadly wasted there,and worse than wasted. From my passion for shooting and forhunting, and, when this failed, for riding across country, I gotinto a sporting set, including some dissipated low-minded youngmen. We used often to dine together in the evening, though thesedinners often included men of a higher stamp, and we sometimesdrank too much, with jolly singing and playing at cardsafterwards. I know that I ought to feel ashamed of days andevenings thus spent, but as some of my friends were verypleasant, and we were all in the highest spirits, I cannot helplooking back to these times with much pleasure.But I am glad to think that I had many other friends of a widelydifferent nature. I was very intimate with Whitley (Rev. C.Whitley, Hon. Canon of Durham, formerly Reader in NaturalPhilosophy in Durham University.), who was afterwards SeniorWrangler, 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 frequently went to the FitzwilliamGallery, and my taste must have been fairly good, for I certainlyadmired the best pictures, which I discussed with the oldcurator. I read also with much interest Sir Joshua Reynolds'book. This taste, though not natural to me, lasted for severalyears, and many of the pictures in the National Gallery in Londongave me much pleasure; that of Sebastian del Piombo exciting inme a sense of sublimity.I also got into a musical set, I believe by means of my warm-hearted friend, Herbert (The late John Maurice Herbert, CountyCourt Judge of Cardiff and the Monmouth Circuit.), who took ahigh wrangler's degree. From associating with these men, andhearing them play, I acquired a strong taste for music, and usedvery often to time my walks so as to hear on week days the anthemin King's College Chapel. This gave me intense pleasure, so thatmy backbone would sometimes shiver. I am sure that there was noaffectation or mere imitation in this taste, for I used generallyto go by myself to King's College, and I sometimes hired thechorister boys to sing in my rooms. Nevertheless I am so utterlydestitute of an ear, that I cannot perceive a discord, or keeptime and hum a tune correctly; and it is a mystery how I couldpossibly have derived pleasure from music.My musical friends soon perceived my state, and sometimes amusedthemselves by making me pass an examination, which consisted inascertaining how many tunes I could recognise when they wereplayed rather more quickly or slowly than usual. 'God save theKing,' when thus played, was a sore puzzle. There was anotherman with almost as bad an ear as I had, and strange to say heplayed a little on the flute. Once I had the triumph of beatinghim in one of our musical examinations.But no pursuit at Cambridge was followed with nearly so mucheagerness or gave me so much pleasure as collecting beetles. Itwas the mere passion for collecting, for I did not dissect them,and rarely compared their external characters with publisheddescriptions, but got them named anyhow. I will give a proof ofmy zeal: one day, on tearing off some old bark, I saw two rarebeetles, and seized one in each hand; then I saw a third and newkind, which I could not bear to lose, so that I popped the onewhich I held in my right hand into my mouth. Alas! it ejectedsome intensely acrid fluid, which burnt my tongue so that I wasforced to spit the beetle out, which was lost, as was the thirdone.I was very successful in collecting, and invented two newmethods; I employed a labourer to scrape during the winter, mossoff old trees and place it in a large bag, and likewise tocollect the rubbish at the bottom of the barges in which reedsare brought from the fens, and thus I got some very rare species. No poet ever felt more delighted at seeing his first poempublished than I did at seeing, in Stephens' 'Illustrations ofBritish 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. Afterwards I becamewell acquainted, and went out collecting, with Albert Way ofTrinity, who in after years became a well-known archaeologist;also with H. Thompson of the same College, afterwards a leadingagriculturist, chairman of a great railway, and Member ofParliament. It seems therefore that a taste for collectingbeetles is some indication of future success in life!I am surprised what an indelible impression many of the beetleswhich I caught at Cambridge have left on my mind. I can rememberthe exact appearance of certain posts, old trees and banks whereI made a good capture. The pretty Panagaeus crux-major was atreasure in those days, and here at Down I saw a beetle runningacross a walk, and on picking it up instantly perceived that itdiffered slightly from P. crux-major, and it turned out to be P.quadripunctatus, which is only a variety or closely alliedspecies, differing from it very slightly in outline. I had neverseen in those old days Licinus alive, which to an uneducated eyehardly differs from many of the black Carabidous beetles; but mysons found here a specimen, and I instantly recognised that itwas new to me; yet I had not looked at a British beetle for thelast twenty years.I have not as yet mentioned a circumstance which influenced mywhole career more than any other. This was my friendship withProfessor Henslow. Before coming up to Cambridge, I had heard ofhim from my brother as a man who knew every branch of science,and I was accordingly prepared to reverence him. He kept openhouse once every week when all undergraduates, and some oldermembers of the University, who were attached to science, used tomeet in the evening. I soon got, through Fox, an invitation, andwent there regularly. Before long I became well acquainted withHenslow, and during the latter half of my time at Cambridge tooklong walks with him on most days; so that I was called by some ofthe dons "the man who walks with Henslow;" and in the evening Iwas very often asked to join his family dinner. His knowledgewas great in botany, entomology, chemistry, mineralogy, andgeology. His strongest taste was to draw conclusions from long-continued minute observations. His judgment was excellent, andhis whole mind well balanced; but I do not suppose that any onewould say that he possessed much original genius. He was deeplyreligious, and so orthodox that he told me one day he should begrieved if a single word of the Thirty-nine Articles werealtered. His moral qualities were in every way admirable. Hewas free from every tinge of vanity or other petty feeling; and Inever saw a man who thought so little about himself or his ownconcerns. His temper was imperturbably good, with the mostwinning and courteous manners; yet, as I have seen, he could beroused by any bad action to the warmest indignation and promptaction.I once saw in his company in the streets of Cambridge almost ashorrid a scene as could have been witnessed during the FrenchRevolution. Two body-snatchers had been arrested, and whilstbeing taken to prison had been torn from the constable by a crowdof the roughest men, who dragged them by their legs along themuddy and stony road. They were covered from head to foot withmud, and their faces were bleeding either from having been kickedor from the stones; they looked like corpses, but the crowd wasso dense that I got only a few momentary glimpses of the wretchedcreatures. Never in my life have I seen such wrath painted on aman's face as was shown by Henslow at this horrid scene. Hetried repeatedly to penetrate the mob; but it was simplyimpossible. He then rushed away to the mayor, telling me not tofollow him, but to get more policemen. I forget the issue,except that the two men were got into the prison without beingkilled.Henslow's benevolence was unbounded, as he proved by his manyexcellent schemes for his poor parishioners, when in after yearshe held the living of Hitcham. My intimacy with such a man oughtto have been, and I hope was, an inestimable benefit. I cannotresist mentioning a trifling incident, which showed his kindconsideration. Whilst examining some pollen-grains on a dampsurface, I saw the tubes exserted, and instantly rushed off tocommunicate my surprising discovery to him. Now I do not supposeany other professor of botany could have helped laughing at mycoming in such a hurry to make such a communication. But heagreed how interesting the phenomenon was, and explained itsmeaning, but made me clearly understand how well it was known; soI left him not in the least mortified, but well pleased at havingdiscovered for myself so remarkable a fact, but determined not tobe in such a hurry again to communicate my discoveries.Dr. Whewell was one of the older and distinguished men whosometimes visited Henslow, and on several occasions I walked homewith him at night. Next to Sir J. Mackintosh he was the bestconverser on grave subjects to whom I ever listened. LeonardJenyns (The well-known Soame Jenyns was cousin to Mr. Jenyns'father.), who afterwards published some good essays in NaturalHistory (Mr. Jenyns (now Blomefield) described the fish for theZoology of the "Beagle"; and is author of a long series ofpapers, chiefly Zoological.), often stayed with Henslow, who washis brother-in-law. I visited him at his parsonage on theborders of the Fens [Swaffham Bulbeck], and had many a good walkand talk with him about Natural History. I became alsoacquainted with several other men older than me, who did not caremuch about science, but were friends of Henslow. One was aScotchman, brother of Sir Alexander Ramsay, and tutor of JesusCollege: he was a delightful man, but did not live for manyyears. Another was Mr. Dawes, afterwards Dean of Hereford, andfamous for his success in the education of the poor. These menand others of the same standing, together with Henslow, usedsometimes to take distant excursions into the country, which Iwas allowed to join, and they were most agreeable.Looking back, I infer that there must have been something in me alittle superior to the common run of youths, otherwise the above-mentioned men, so much older than me and higher in academicalposition, would never have allowed me to associate with them. Certainly I was not aware of any such superiority, and I rememberone of my sporting friends, Turner, who saw me at work with mybeetles, saying that I should some day be a Fellow of the RoyalSociety, and the notion seemed to me preposterous.During my last year at Cambridge, I read with care and profoundinterest Humboldt's 'Personal Narrative.' 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 humblecontribution to the noble structure of Natural Science. No oneor a dozen other books influenced me nearly so much as these two. I copied out from Humboldt long passages about Teneriffe, andread them aloud on one of the above-mentioned excursions, to (Ithink) Henslow, Ramsay, and Dawes, for on a previous occasion Ihad talked about the glories of Teneriffe, and some of the partydeclared they would endeavour to go there; but I think that theywere only half in earnest. I was, however, quite in earnest, andgot an introduction to a merchant in London to enquire aboutships; but the scheme was, of course, knocked on the head by thevoyage of the "Beagle".My summer vacations were given up to collecting beetles, to somereading, and short tours. In the autumn my whole time wasdevoted to shooting, chiefly at Woodhouse and Maer, and sometimeswith young Eyton of Eyton. Upon the whole the three years whichI spent at Cambridge were the most joyful in my happy life; for Iwas then in excellent health, and almost always in high spirits.As I had at first come up to Cambridge at Christmas, I was forcedto keep two terms after passing my final examination, at thecommencement of 1831; and Henslow then persuaded me to begin thestudy of geology. Therefore on my return to Shropshire Iexamined sections, and coloured a map of parts round Shrewsbury. Professor Sedgwick intended to visit North Wales in the beginningof August to pursue his famous geological investigations amongstthe older rocks, and Henslow asked him to allow me to accompanyhim. (In connection with this tour my father used to tell astory about Sedgwick: they had started from their inn onemorning, and had walked a mile or two, when Sedgwick suddenlystopped, and vowed that he would return, being certain "thatdamned scoundrel" (the waiter) had not given the chambermaid thesixpence intrusted to him for the purpose. He was ultimatelypersuaded to give up the project, seeing that there was no reasonfor suspecting the waiter of especial perfidy.--F.D.) Accordingly he came and slept at my father's house.A short conversation with him during this evening produced astrong impression on my mind. Whilst examining an old gravel-pitnear Shrewsbury, a labourer told me that he had found in it alarge worn tropical Volute shell, such as may be seen on thechimney-pieces of cottages; and as he would not sell the shell, Iwas convinced that he had really found it in the pit. I toldSedgwick of the fact, and he at once said (no doubt truly) thatit must have been thrown away by some one into the pit; but thenadded, if really embedded there it would be the greatestmisfortune to geology, as it would overthrow all that we knowabout the superficial deposits of the Midland Counties. Thesegravel-beds belong in fact to the glacial period, and in afteryears I found in them broken arctic shells. But I was thenutterly astonished at Sedgwick not being delighted at sowonderful a fact as a tropical shell being found near the surfacein the middle of England. Nothing before had ever made methoroughly realise, though I had read various scientific books,that science consists in grouping facts so that general laws orconclusions may be drawn from them.Next morning we started for Llangollen, Conway, Bangor, and CapelCurig. This tour was of decided use in teaching me a little howto make out the geology of a country. Sedgwick often sent me ona line parallel to his, telling me to bring back specimens of therocks and to mark the stratification on a map. I have littledoubt that he did this for my good, as I was too ignorant to haveaided him. On this tour I had a striking instance of how easy itis to overlook phenomena, however conspicuous, before they havebeen observed by any one. We spent many hours in Cwm Idwal,examining all the rocks with extreme care, as Sedgwick wasanxious to find fossils in them; but neither of us saw a trace ofthe wonderful glacial phenomena all around us; we did not noticethe plainly scored rocks, the perched boulders, the lateral andterminal moraines. Yet these phenomena are so conspicuous that,as I declared in a paper published many years afterwards in the'Philosophical Magazine' ('Philosophical Magazine,' 1842.), ahouse burnt down by fire did not tell its story more plainly thandid this valley. If it had still been filled by a glacier, thephenomena would have been less distinct than they now are.At Capel Curig I left Sedgwick and went in a straight line bycompass and map across the mountains to Barmouth, never followingany track unless it coincided with my course. I thus came onsome strange wild places, and enjoyed much this manner oftravelling. I visited Barmouth to see some Cambridge friends whowere reading there, and thence returned to Shrewsbury and to Maerfor shooting; for at that time I should have thought myself madto give up the first days of partridge-shooting for geology orany 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, Ifound a letter from Henslow, informing me that Captain Fitz-Roywas willing to give up part of his own cabin to any young man whowould volunteer to go with him without pay as naturalist to theVoyage 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 theoffer, but my father strongly objected, adding the words,fortunate for me, "If you can find any man of common sense whoadvises you to go I will give my consent." So I wrote thatevening and refused the offer. On the next morning I went toMaer to be ready for September 1st, and, whilst out shooting, myuncle (Josiah Wedgwood.) sent for me, offering to drive me overto Shrewsbury and talk with my father, as my uncle thought itwould be wise in me to accept the offer. My father alwaysmaintained that he was one of the most sensible men in the world,and he at once consented in the kindest manner. I had beenrather extravagant at Cambridge, and to console my father, said,"that I should be deuced clever to spend more than my allowancewhilst on board the 'Beagle';" but he answered with a smile, "Butthey tell me you are very clever."Next day I started for Cambridge to see Henslow, and thence toLondon to see Fitz-Roy, and all was soon arranged. Afterwards,on becoming very intimate with Fitz-Roy, I heard that I had run avery narrow risk of being rejected, on account of the shape of mynose! He was an ardent disciple of Lavater, and was convincedthat he could judge of a man's character by the outline of hisfeatures; and he doubted whether any one with my nose couldpossess sufficient energy and determination for the voyage. ButI think he was afterwards well satisfied that my nose had spokenfalsely.Fitz-Roy's character was a singular one, with very many noblefeatures: he was devoted to his duty, generous to a fault, bold,determined, and indomitably energetic, and an ardent friend toall under his sway. He would undertake any sort of trouble toassist those whom he thought deserved assistance. He was ahandsome man, strikingly like a gentleman, with highly courteousmanners, which resembled those of his maternal uncle, the famousLord Castlereagh, as I was told by the Minister at Rio. Nevertheless he must have inherited much in his appearance fromCharles II., for Dr. Wallich gave me a collection of photographswhich he had made, and I was struck with the resemblance of oneto Fitz-Roy; and on looking at the name, I found it Ch. E.Sobieski Stuart, Count d'Albanie, a descendant of the samemonarch.Fitz-Roy's temper was a most unfortunate one. It was usuallyworst in the early morning, and with his eagle eye he couldgenerally detect something amiss about the ship, and was thenunsparing in his blame. He was very kind to me, but was a manvery difficult to live with on the intimate terms whichnecessarily followed from our messing by ourselves in the samecabin. We had several quarrels; for instance, early in thevoyage at Bahia, in Brazil, he defended and praised slavery,which I abominated, and told me that he had just visited a greatslave-owner, who had called up many of his slaves and asked themwhether they were happy, and whether they wished to be free, andall answered "No." I then asked him, perhaps with a sneer,whether he thought that the answer of slaves in the presence oftheir master was worth anything? This made him excessivelyangry, and he said that as I doubted his word we could not liveany longer together. I thought that I should have been compelledto leave the ship; but as soon as the news spread, which it didquickly, as the captain sent for the first lieutenant to assuagehis anger by abusing me, I was deeply gratified by receiving aninvitation from all the gun-room officers to mess with them. Butafter a few hours Fitz-Roy showed his usual magnanimity bysending an officer to me with an apology and a request that Iwould continue to live with him.His character was in several respects one of the most noble whichI have ever known.The voyage of the "Beagle" has been by far the most importantevent in my life, and has determined my whole career; yet itdepended on so small a circumstance as my uncle offering to driveme thirty miles to Shrewsbury, which few uncles would have done,and on such a trifle as the shape of my nose. I have always feltthat I owe to the voyage the first real training or education ofmy mind; I was led to attend closely to several branches ofnatural history, and thus my powers of observation were improved,though they were always fairly developed.The investigation of the geology of all the places visited wasfar more important, as reasoning here comes into play. On firstexamining a new district nothing can appear more hopeless thanthe chaos of rocks; but by recording the stratification andnature of the rocks and fossils at many points, always reasoningand predicting what will be found elsewhere, light soon begins todawn on the district, and the structure of the whole becomes moreor less intelligible. I had brought with me the first volume ofLyell's 'Principles of Geology,' which I studied attentively; andthe book was of the highest service to me in many ways. The veryfirst place which I examined, namely St. Jago in the Cape deVerde islands, showed me clearly the wonderful superiority ofLyell's manner of treating geology, compared with that of anyother 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 marineones; but from not being able to draw, and from not havingsufficient anatomical knowledge, a great pile of MS. which I madeduring the voyage has proved almost useless. I thus lost muchtime, with the exception of that spent in acquiring someknowledge of the Crustaceans, as this was of service when inafter years I undertook a monograph of the Cirripedia.During some part of the day I wrote my Journal, and took muchpains in describing carefully and vividly all that I had seen;and this was good practice. My Journal served also, in part, asletters to my home, and portions were sent to England wheneverthere was an opportunity.The above various special studies were, however, of no importancecompared with the habit of energetic industry and of concentratedattention to whatever I was engaged in, which I then acquired. Everything about which I thought or read was made to beardirectly on what I had seen or was likely to see; and this habitof mind was continued during the five years of the voyage. Ifeel sure that it was this training which has enabled me to dowhatever I have done in science.Looking backwards, I can now perceive how my love for sciencegradually preponderated over every other taste. During the firsttwo years my old passion for shooting survived in nearly fullforce, and I shot myself all the birds and animals for mycollection; but gradually I gave up my gun more and more, andfinally altogether, to my servant, as shooting interfered with mywork, more especially with making out the geological structure ofa country. I discovered, though unconsciously and insensibly,that the pleasure of observing and reasoning was a much higherone than that of skill and sport. That my mind became developedthrough my pursuits during the voyage is rendered probable by aremark made by my father, who was the most acute observer whom Iever saw, of a sceptical disposition, and far from being abeliever in phrenology; for on first seeing me after the voyage,he turned round to my sisters, and exclaimed, "Why, the shape ofhis head is quite altered."To return to the voyage. On September 11th (1831), I paid aflying visit with Fitz-Roy to the "Beagle" at Plymouth. Thenceto Shrewsbury to wish my father and sisters a long farewell. OnOctober 24th I took up my residence at Plymouth, and remainedthere until December 27th, when the "Beagle" finally left theshores of England for her circumnavigation of the world. We madetwo earlier attempts to sail, but were driven back each time byheavy gales. These two months at Plymouth were the mostmiserable which I ever spent, though I exerted myself in variousways. I was out of spirits at the thought of leaving all myfamily and friends for so long a time, and the weather seemed tome inexpressibly gloomy. I was also troubled with palpitationand pain about the heart, and like many a young ignorant man,especially one with a smattering of medical knowledge, wasconvinced that I had heart disease. I did not consult anydoctor, as I fully expected to hear the verdict that I was notfit 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 wentand what we did--as I have given a sufficiently full account inmy published Journal. The glories of the vegetation of theTropics rise before my mind at the present time more vividly thananything else; though the sense of sublimity, which the greatdeserts of Patagonia and the forest-clad mountains of Tierra delFuego excited in me, has left an indelible impression on my mind. The sight of a naked savage in his native land is an event whichcan never be forgotten. Many of my excursions on horsebackthrough wild countries, or in the boats, some of which lastedseveral weeks, were deeply interesting: their discomfort andsome degree of danger were at that time hardly a drawback, andnone at all afterwards. I also reflect with high satisfaction onsome of my scientific work, such as solving the problem of coralislands, and making out the geological structure of certainislands, for instance, St. Helena. Nor must I pass over thediscovery of the singular relations of the animals and plantsinhabiting the several islands of the Galapagos archipelago, andof all of them to the inhabitants of South America.As far as I can judge of myself, I worked to the utmost duringthe voyage from the mere pleasure of investigation, and from mystrong desire to add a few facts to the great mass of facts inNatural Science. But I was also ambitious to take a fair placeamong scientific men,--whether more ambitious or less so thanmost of my fellow-workers, I can form no opinion.The geology of St. Jago is very striking, yet simple: a streamof lava formerly flowed over the bed of the sea, formed oftriturated recent shells and corals, which it has baked into ahard white rock. Since then the whole island has been upheaved. But the line of white rock revealed to me a new and importantfact, namely, that there had been afterwards subsidence round thecraters, which had since been in action, and had poured forthlava. It then first dawned on me that I might perhaps write abook on the geology of the various countries visited, and thismade me thrill with delight. That was a memorable hour to me,and how distinctly I can call to mind the low cliff of lavabeneath which I rested, with the sun glaring hot, a few strangedesert plants growing near, and with living corals in the tidalpools at my feet. Later in the voyage, Fitz-Roy asked me to readsome of my Journal, and declared it would be worth publishing; sohere was a second book in prospect!Towards the close of our voyage I received a letter whilst atAscension, in which my sisters told me that Sedgwick had calledon my father, and said that I should take a place among theleading scientific men. I could not at the time understand howhe could have learnt anything of my proceedings, but I heard (Ibelieve afterwards) that Henslow had read some of the letterswhich I wrote to him before the Philosophical Society ofCambridge (Read at the meeting held November 16, 1835, andprinted in a pamphlet of 31 pages for distribution among themembers of the Society.), and had printed them for privatedistribution. My collection of fossil bones, which had been sentto Henslow, also excited considerable attention amongstpalaeontologists. After reading this letter, I clambered overthe mountains of Ascension with a bounding step, and made thevolcanic rocks resound under my geological hammer. All thisshows how ambitious I was; but I think that I can say with truththat in after years, though I cared in the highest degree for theapprobation of such men as Lyell and Hooker, who were my friends,I did not care much about the general public. I do not mean tosay that a favourable review or a large sale of my books did notplease me greatly, but the pleasure was a fleeting one, and I amsure that I have never turned one inch out of my course to gainfame.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 whichI ever spent, though I was occasionally unwell, and so lost sometime. After going backwards and forwards several times betweenShrewsbury, Maer, Cambridge, and London, I settled in lodgings atCambridge (In Fitzwilliam Street.) on December 13th, where all mycollections were under the care of Henslow. I stayed here threemonths, and got my minerals and rocks examined by the aid ofProfessor Miller.I began preparing my 'Journal of Travels,' which was not hardwork, as my MS. Journal had been written with care, and my chieflabour was making an abstract of my more interesting scientificresults. I sent also, at the request of Lyell, a short accountof my observations on the elevation of the coast of Chile to theGeological Society. ('Geolog. Soc. Proc. ii. 1838, pages 446-449.)On March 7th, 1837, I took lodgings in Great Marlborough Streetin London, and remained there for nearly two years, until I wasmarried. During these two years I finished my Journal, readseveral papers before the Geological Society, began preparing theMS. for my 'Geological Observations,' and arranged for thepublication of the 'Zoology of the Voyage of the "Beagle".' InJuly I opened my first note-book for facts in relation to theOrigin of Species, about which I had long reflected, and neverceased working for the next twenty years.During these two years I also went a little into society, andacted as one of the honorary secretaries of the GeologicalSociety. I saw a great deal of Lyell. One of his chiefcharacteristics was his sympathy with the work of others, and Iwas as much astonished as delighted at the interest which heshowed when, on my return to England, I explained to him my viewson coral reefs. This encouraged me greatly, and his advice andexample had much influence on me. During this time I saw also agood deal of Robert Brown; I used often to call and sit with himduring his breakfast on Sunday mornings, and he poured forth arich treasure of curious observations and acute remarks, but theyalmost always related to minute points, and he never with mediscussed large or general questions in science.During these two years I took several short excursions as arelaxation, and one longer one to the Parallel Roads of Glen Roy,an account of which was published in the 'PhilosophicalTransactions.' (1839, pages 39-82.) This paper was a greatfailure, and I am ashamed of it. Having been deeply impressedwith what I had seen of the elevation of the land of SouthAmerica, I attributed the parallel lines to the action of thesea; but I had to give up this view when Agassiz propounded hisglacier-lake theory. Because no other explanation was possibleunder our then state of knowledge, I argued in favour of sea-action; and my error has been a good lesson to me never to trustin science to the principle of exclusion.As I was not able to work all day at science, I read a good dealduring these two years on various subjects, including somemetaphysical books; but I was not well fitted for such studies. About this time I took much delight in Wordsworth's andColeridge's poetry; and can boast that I read the 'Excursion'twice through. Formerly Milton's 'Paradise Lost' had been mychief favourite, and in my excursions during the voyage of the"Beagle", when I could take only a single volume, I always choseMilton.FROM MY MARRIAGE, JANUARY 29, 1839, AND RESIDENCE IN UPPER GOWERSTREET, 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 inLondon, I did less scientific work, though I worked as hard as Ipossibly could, than during any other equal length of time in mylife. This was owing to frequently recurring unwellness, and toone long and serious illness. The greater part of my time, whenI could do anything, was devoted to my work on 'Coral Reefs,'which I had begun before my marriage, and of which the lastproof-sheet was corrected on May 6th, 1842. This book, though asmall one, cost me twenty months of hard work, as I had to readevery work on the islands of the Pacific and to consult manycharts. It was thought highly of by scientific men, and thetheory 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 SouthAmerica, before I had seen a true coral reef. I had thereforeonly to verify and extend my views by a careful examination ofliving reefs. But it should be observed that I had during thetwo previous years been incessantly attending to the effects onthe shores of South America of the intermittent elevation of theland, together with denudation and the deposition of sediment. This necessarily led me to reflect much on the effects ofsubsidence, and it was easy to replace in imagination thecontinued 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, Iread before the Geological Society papers on the Erratic Bouldersof South America ('Geolog. Soc. Proc.' iii. 1842.), onEarthquakes ('Geolog. Trans. v. 1840.), and on the Formation bythe Agency of Earth-worms of Mould. ('Geolog. Soc. Proc. ii.1838.) I also continued to superintend the publication of the'Zoology of the Voyage of the "Beagle".' Nor did I ever intermitcollecting facts bearing on the origin of species; and I couldsometimes do this when I could do nothing else from illness.In the summer of 1842 I was stronger than I had been for sometime, and took a little tour by myself in North Wales, for thesake of observing the effects of the old glaciers which formerlyfilled all the larger valleys. I published a short account ofwhat I saw in the 'Philosophical Magazine.' ('PhilosophicalMagazine,' 1842.) This excursion interested me greatly, and itwas the last time I was ever strong enough to climb mountains orto take long walks such as are necessary for geological work.During the early part of our life in London, I was strong enoughto go into general society, and saw a good deal of severalscientific men, and other more or less distinguished men. I willgive my impressions with respect to some of them, though I havelittle to say worth saying.I saw more of Lyell than of any other man, both before and aftermy marriage. His mind was characterised, as it appeared to me,by clearness, caution, sound judgment, and a good deal oforiginality. When I made any remark to him on Geology, he neverrested until he saw the whole case clearly, and often made me seeit more clearly than I had done before. He would advance allpossible objections to my suggestion, and even after these wereexhausted would long remain dubious. A second characteristic washis hearty sympathy with the work of other scientific men. (Theslight repetition here observable is accounted for by the noteson Lyell, etc., having been added in April, 1881, a few yearsafter the rest of the 'Recollections' were written.)On my return from the voyage of the "Beagle", I explained to himmy views on coral-reefs, which differed from his, and I wasgreatly surprised and encouraged by the vivid interest which heshowed. His delight in science was ardent, and he felt thekeenest interest in the future progress of mankind. He was verykind-hearted, and thoroughly liberal in his religious beliefs, orrather disbeliefs; but he was a strong theist. His candour washighly remarkable. He exhibited this by becoming a convert tothe Descent theory, though he had gained much fame by opposingLamarck's views, and this after he had grown old. He reminded methat I had many years before said to him, when discussing theopposition of the old school of geologists to his new views,"What a good thing it would be if every scientific man was to diewhen sixty years old, as afterwards he would be sure to opposeall new doctrines." But he hoped that now he might be allowed tolive.The science of Geology is enormously indebted to Lyell--more so,as I believe, than to any other man who ever lived. When [I was]starting on the voyage of the "Beagle", the sagacious Henslow,who, like all other geologists, believed at that time insuccessive cataclysms, advised me to get and study the firstvolume of the 'Principles,' which had then just been published,but on no account to accept the views therein advocated. Howdifferently would anyone now speak of the 'Principles'! I amproud to remember that the first place, namely, St. Jago, in theCape de Verde archipelago, in which I geologised, convinced me ofthe infinite superiority of Lyell's views over those advocated inany other work known to me.The powerful effects of Lyell's works could formerly be plainlyseen in the different progress of the science in France andEngland. The present total oblivion of Elie de Beaumont's wildhypotheses, such as his 'Craters of Elevation' and 'Lines ofElevation' (which latter hypothesis I heard Sedgwick at theGeological Society lauding to the skies), may be largelyattributed 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 chieflyremarkable for the minuteness of his observations, and theirperfect accuracy. His knowledge was extraordinarily great, andmuch died with him, owing to his excessive fear of ever making amistake. He poured out his knowledge to me in the mostunreserved manner, yet was strangely jealous on some points. Icalled on him two or three times before the voyage of the"Beagle", and on one occasion he asked me to look through amicroscope and describe what I saw. This I did, and believe nowthat it was the marvellous currents of protoplasm in somevegetable cell. I then asked him what I had seen; but heanswered me, "That is my little secret."He was capable of the most generous actions. When old, much outof health, and quite unfit for any exertion, he daily visited (asHooker told me) an old man-servant, who lived at a distance (andwhom he supported), and read aloud to him. This is enough tomake up for any degree of scientific penuriousness or jealousy.I may here mention a few other eminent men, whom I haveoccasionally seen, but I have little to say about them worthsaying. I felt a high reverence for Sir J. Herschel, and wasdelighted to dine with him at his charming house at the Cape ofGood Hope, and afterwards at his London house. I saw him, also,on a few other occasions. He never talked much, but every wordwhich he uttered was worth listening to.I once met at breakfast at Sir R. Murchison's house theillustrious Humboldt, who honoured me by expressing a wish to seeme. I was a little disappointed with the great man, but myanticipations probably were too high. I can remember nothingdistinctly about our interview, except that Humboldt was verycheerful 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 afull index, to each, of the facts which he thought might proveserviceable to him, and that he could always remember in whatbook he had read anything, for his memory was wonderful. I askedhim how at first he could judge what facts would be serviceable,and he answered that he did not know, but that a sort of instinctguided him. From this habit of making indices, he was enabled togive the astonishing number of references on all sorts ofsubjects, which may be found in his 'History of Civilisation.' This book I thought most interesting, and read it twice, but Idoubt whether his generalisations are worth anything. Buckle wasa great talker, and I listened to him saying hardly a word, norindeed 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 toher; after I had moved away he turned around to a friend and said(as was overheard by my brother), "Well, Mr. Darwin's books aremuch better than his conversation."Of other great literary men, I once met Sydney Smith at DeanMilman's house. There was something inexplicably amusing inevery word which he uttered. Perhaps this was partly due to theexpectation of being amused. He was talking about Lady Cork, whowas then extremely old. This was the lady who, as he said, wasonce so much affected by one of his charity sermons, that sheBORROWED a guinea from a friend to put in the plate. He now said"It is generally believed that my dear old friend Lady Cork hasbeen overlooked," and he said this in such a manner that no onecould for a moment doubt that he meant that his dear old friendhad been overlooked by the devil. How he managed to express thisI know not.I likewise once met Macaulay at Lord Stanhope's (the historian's)house, and as there was only one other man at dinner, I had agrand opportunity of hearing him converse, and he was veryagreeable. He did not talk at all too much; nor indeed couldsuch a man talk too much, as long as he allowed others to turnthe stream of his conversation, and this he did allow.Lord Stanhope once gave me a curious little proof of the accuracyand fulness of Macaulay's memory: many historians used often tomeet at Lord Stanhope's house, and in discussing various subjectsthey would sometimes differ from Macaulay, and formerly theyoften 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 hisparties of historians and other literary men, and amongst themwere Motley and Grote. After luncheon I walked about CheveningPark for nearly an hour with Grote, and was much interested byhis conversation and pleased by the simplicity and absence of allpretension in his manners.Long ago I dined occasionally with the old Earl, the father ofthe historian; he was a strange man, but what little I knew ofhim I liked much. He was frank, genial, and pleasant. He hadstrongly marked features, with a brown complexion, and hisclothes, when I saw him, were all brown. He seemed to believe ineverything which was to others utterly incredible. He said oneday to me, "Why don't you give up your fiddle-faddle of geologyand zoology, and turn to the occult sciences!" The historian,then Lord Mahon, seemed shocked at such a speech to me, and hischarming wife much amused.The last man whom I will mention is Carlyle, seen by me severaltimes at my brother's house, and two or three times at my ownhouse. His talk was very racy and interesting, just like hiswritings, but he sometimes went on too long on the same subject. I remember a funny dinner at my brother's, where, amongst a fewothers, were Babbage and Lyell, both of whom liked to talk. Carlyle, however, silenced every one by haranguing during thewhole dinner on the advantages of silence. After dinner Babbage,in his grimmest manner, thanked Carlyle for his very interestinglecture on silence.Carlyle sneered at almost every one: one day in my house hecalled Grote's 'History' "a fetid quagmire, with nothingspiritual about it." I always thought, until his 'Reminiscences'appeared, that his sneers were partly jokes, but this now seemsrather doubtful. His expression was that of a depressed, almostdespondent yet benevolent man; and it is notorious how heartilyhe laughed. I believe that his benevolence was real, thoughstained by not a little jealousy. No one can doubt about hisextraordinary power of drawing pictures of things and men--farmore 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 moral truths onthe minds of men. On the other hand, his views about slaverywere revolting. In his eyes might was right. His mind seemed tome a very narrow one; even if all branches of science, which hedespised, are excluded. It is astonishing to me that Kingsleyshould have spoken of him as a man well fitted to advancescience. He laughed to scorn the idea that a mathematician, suchas Whewell, could judge, as I maintained he could, of Goethe'sviews on light. He thought it a most ridiculous thing that anyone should care whether a glacier moved a little quicker or alittle slower, or moved at all. As far as I could judge, I nevermet a man with a mind so ill adapted for scientific research.Whilst living in London, I attended as regularly as I could themeetings of several scientific societies, and acted as secretaryto the Geological Society. But such attendance, and ordinarysociety, suited my health so badly that we resolved to live inthe country, which we 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, wefound this house and purchased it. I was pleased with thediversified appearance of vegetation proper to a chalk district,and so unlike what I had been accustomed to in the Midlandcounties; and still more pleased with the extreme quietness andrusticity of the place. It is not, however, quite so retired aplace as a writer in a German periodical makes it, who says thatmy house can be approached only by a mule-track! Our fixingourselves here has answered admirably in one way, which we didnot anticipate, namely, by being very convenient for frequentvisits 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 occasionallyto the seaside or elsewhere, we have gone nowhere. During thefirst part of our residence we went a little into society, andreceived a few friends here; but my health almost always sufferedfrom the excitement, violent shivering and vomiting attacks beingthus brought on. I have therefore been compelled for many yearsto give up all dinner-parties; and this has been somewhat of adeprivation to me, as such parties always put me into highspirits. From the same cause I have been able to invite herevery few scientific acquaintances.My chief enjoyment and sole employment throughout life has beenscientific work; and the excitement from such work makes me forthe time forget, or drives quite away, my daily discomfort. Ihave therefore nothing to record during the rest of my life,except the publication of my several books. Perhaps a fewdetails how they arose may be worth giving.MY SEVERAL PUBLICATIONS.In the early part of 1844, my observations on the volcanicislands 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 in 1839as part of Fitz-Roy's work. The success of this, my firstliterary child, always tickles my vanity more than that of any ofmy other books. Even to this day it sells steadily in Englandand the United States, and has been translated for the secondtime into German, and into French and other languages. Thissuccess of a book of travels, especially of a scientific one, somany years after its first publication, is surprising. Tenthousand copies have been sold in England of the second edition. In 1846 my 'Geological Observations on South America' werepublished. I record in a little diary, which I have always kept,that my three geological books ('Coral Reefs' included) consumedfour and a half years' steady work; "and now it is ten yearssince my return to England. How much time have I lost byillness?" I have nothing to say about these three books exceptthat to my surprise new editions have lately been called for. ('Geological Observations,' 2nd Edit.1876. 'Coral Reefs,' 2ndEdit. 1874.)In October, 1846, I began to work on 'Cirripedia.' When on thecoast of Chile, I found a most curious form, which burrowed intothe shells of Concholepas, and which differed so much from allother Cirripedes that I had to form a new sub-order for its solereception. Lately an allied burrowing genus has been found onthe shores of Portugal. To understand the structure of my newCirripede I had to examine and dissect many of the common forms;and this gradually led me on to take up the whole group. Iworked steadily on this subject for the next eight years, andultimately published two thick volumes (Published by the RaySociety.), describing all the known living species, and two thinquartos on the extinct species. I do not doubt that Sir E.Lytton Bulwer had me in his mind when he introduced in one of hisnovels a Professor Long, who had written two huge volumes onlimpets.Although I was employed during eight years on this work, yet Irecord in my diary that about two years out of this time was lostby illness. On this account I went in 1848 for some months toMalvern for hydropathic treatment, which did me much good, sothat on my return home I was able to resume work. So much was Iout of health that when my dear father died on November 13th,1848, I was unable to attend his funeral or to act as one of hisexecutors.My work on the Cirripedia possesses, I think, considerable value,as besides describing several new and remarkable forms, I madeout the homologies of the various parts--I discovered thecementing apparatus, though I blundered dreadfully about thecement glands--and lastly I proved the existence in certaingenera of minute males complemental to and parasitic on thehermaphrodites. This latter discovery has at last been fullyconfirmed; though at one time a German writer was pleased toattribute the whole account to my fertile imagination. TheCirripedes form a highly varying and difficult group of speciesto class; and my work was of considerable use to me, when I hadto discuss in the 'Origin of Species' the principles of a naturalclassification. Nevertheless, I doubt whether the work was worththe consumption of so much time.>From September 1854 I devoted my whole time to arranging my hugepile of notes, to observing, and to experimenting in relation tothe transmutation of species. During the voyage of the "Beagle"I had been deeply impressed by discovering in the Pampeanformation great fossil animals covered with armour like that onthe existing armadillos; secondly, by the manner in which closelyallied animals replace one another in proceeding southwards overthe Continent; and thirdly, by the South American character ofmost of the productions of the Galapagos archipelago, and moreespecially by the manner in which they differ slightly on eachisland of the group; none of the islands appearing to be veryancient in a geological sense.It was evident that such facts as these, as well as many others,could only be explained on the supposition that species graduallybecome modified; and the subject haunted me. But it was equallyevident 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 ofevery kind are beautifully adapted to their habits of life--forinstance, a woodpecker or a tree-frog to climb trees, or a seedfor dispersal by hooks or plumes. I had always been much struckby such adaptations, and until these could be explained it seemedto me almost useless to endeavour to prove by indirect evidencethat species have been modified.After my return to England it appeared to me that by followingthe example of Lyell in Geology, and by collecting all factswhich bore in any way on the variation of animals and plantsunder domestication and nature, some light might perhaps bethrown on the whole subject. My first note-book was opened inJuly 1837. I worked on true Baconian principles, and without anytheory collected facts on a wholesale scale, more especially withrespect to domesticated productions, by printed enquiries, byconversation with skilful breeders and gardeners, and byextensive reading. When I see the list of books of all kindswhich I read and abstracted, including whole series of Journalsand Transactions, I am surprised at my industry. I soonperceived that selection was the keystone of man's success inmaking useful races of animals and plants. But how selectioncould be applied to organisms living in a state of natureremained for some time a mystery to me.In October 1838, that is, fifteen months after I had begun mysystematic enquiry, I happened to read for amusement 'Malthus onPopulation,' and being well prepared to appreciate the strugglefor existence which everywhere goes on from long-continuedobservation of the habits of animals and plants, it at oncestruck me that under these circumstances favourable variationswould tend to be preserved, and unfavourable ones to bedestroyed. The result of this would be the formation of newspecies. Here then I had at last got a theory by which to work;but I was so anxious to avoid prejudice, that I determined notfor some time to write even the briefest sketch of it. In June1842 I first allowed myself the satisfaction of writing a verybrief abstract of my theory in pencil in 35 pages; and this wasenlarged during the summer of 1844 into one of 230 pages, which Ihad 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 Columbusand his egg, how I could have overlooked it and its solution. This problem is the tendency in organic beings descended from thesame stock to diverge in character as they become modified. Thatthey have diverged greatly is obvious from the manner in whichspecies of all kinds can be classed under genera, genera underfamilies, families under sub-orders and so forth; and I canremember the very spot in the road, whilst in my carriage, whento my joy the solution occurred to me; and this was long after Ihad come to Down. The solution, as I believe, is that themodified offspring of all dominant and increasing forms tend tobecome adapted to many and highly diversified places in theeconomy of nature.Early in 1856 Lyell advised me to write out my views prettyfully, and I began at once to do so on a scale three or fourtimes as extensive as that which was afterwards followed in my'Origin of Species;' yet it was only an abstract of the materialswhich I had collected, and I got through about half the work onthis scale. But my plans were overthrown, for early in thesummer of 1858 Mr. Wallace, who was then in the Malayarchipelago, sent me an essay "On the Tendency of Varieties todepart indefinitely from the Original Type;" and this essaycontained exactly the same theory as mine. Mr. Wallace expressedthe wish that if I thought well of his essay, I should sent it toLyell for perusal.The circumstances under which I consented at the request of Lyelland Hooker to allow of an abstract from my MS., together with aletter to Asa Gray, dated September 5, 1857, to be published atthe same time with Wallace's Essay, are given in the 'Journal ofthe Proceedings of the Linnean Society,' 1858, page 45. I was atfirst very unwilling to consent, as I thought Mr. Wallace mightconsider my doing so unjustifiable, for I did not then know howgenerous and noble was his disposition. The extract from my MS.and the letter to Asa Gray had neither been intended forpublication, and were badly written. Mr. Wallace's essay, on theother hand, was admirably expressed and quite clear. Nevertheless, our joint productions excited very littleattention, and the only published notice of them which I canremember was by Professor Haughton of Dublin, whose verdict wasthat all that was new in them was false, and what was true wasold. This shows how necessary it is that any new view should beexplained at considerable length in order to arouse publicattention.In September 1858 I set to work by the strong advice of Lyell andHooker to prepare a volume on the transmutation of species, butwas often interrupted by ill-health, and short visits to Dr.Lane's delightful hydropathic establishment at Moor Park. Iabstracted the MS. begun on a much larger scale in 1856, andcompleted the volume on the same reduced scale. It cost methirteen months and ten days' hard labour. It was publishedunder 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 firsthighly successful. The first small edition of 1250 copies wassold on the day of publication, and a second edition of 3000copies soon afterwards. 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 everyEuropean tongue, even into such languages as Spanish, Bohemian,Polish, and Russian. It has also, according to Miss Bird, beentranslated into Japanese (Miss Bird is mistaken, as I learn fromProf. Mitsukuri.--F.D.), and is there much studied. Even anessay in Hebrew has appeared on it, showing that the theory iscontained in the Old Testament! The reviews were very numerous;for some time I collected all that appeared on the 'Origin' andon my related books, and these amount (excluding newspaperreviews) to 265; but after a time I gave up the attempt indespair. Many separate essays and books on the subject haveappeared; and in Germany a catalogue or bibliography on"Darwinismus" has appeared every year or two.The success of the 'Origin' may, I think, be attributed in largepart to my having long before written two condensed sketches, andto my having finally abstracted a much larger manuscript, whichwas itself an abstract. By this means I was enabled to selectthe more striking facts and conclusions. I had, also, duringmany years followed a golden rule, namely, that whenever apublished fact, a new observation or thought came across me,which was opposed to my general results, to make a memorandum ofit without fail and at once; for I had found by experience thatsuch facts and thoughts were far more apt to escape from thememory than favourable ones. Owing to this habit, very fewobjections were raised against my views which I had not at leastnoticed 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 mindswere prepared for it." I do not think that this is strictlytrue, for I occasionally sounded not a few naturalists, and neverhappened to come across a single one who seemed to doubt aboutthe permanence of species. Even Lyell and Hooker, though theywould listen with interest to me, never seemed to agree. I triedonce or twice to explain to able men what I meant by NaturalSelection, but signally failed. What I believe was strictly trueis that innumerable well-observed facts were stored in the mindsof naturalists ready to take their proper places as soon as anytheory which would receive them was sufficiently explained. Another element in the success of the book was its moderate size;and this I owe to the appearance of Mr. Wallace's essay; had Ipublished on the scale in which I began to write in 1856, thebook 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 thetheory was clearly conceived, to 1859; and I lost nothing by it,for I cared very little whether men attributed most originalityto me or Wallace; and his essay no doubt aided in the receptionof the theory. I was forestalled in only one important point,which my vanity has always made me regret, namely, theexplanation by means of the Glacial period of the presence of thesame species of plants and of some few animals on distantmountain summits and in the arctic regions. This view pleased meso much that I wrote it out in extenso, and I believe that it wasread by Hooker some years before E. Forbes published hiscelebrated memoir ('Geolog. Survey Mem.,' 1846.) on the subject. In the very few points in which we differed, I still think that Iwas in the right. I have never, of course, alluded in print tomy having independently worked out this view.Hardly any point gave me so much satisfaction when I was at workon the 'Origin,' as the explanation of the wide difference inmany classes between the embryo and the adult animal, and of theclose resemblance of the embryos within the same class. Nonotice of this point was taken, as far as I remember, in theearly reviews of the 'Origin,' and I recollect expressing mysurprise on this head in a letter to Asa Gray. Within late yearsseveral reviewers have given the whole credit to Fritz Muller andHackel, who undoubtedly have worked it out much more fully, andin some respects more correctly than I did. I had materials fora whole chapter on the subject, and I ought to have made thediscussion longer; for it is clear that I failed to impress myreaders; 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 treatedhonestly by my reviewers, passing over those without scientificknowledge as not worthy of notice. My views have often beengrossly misrepresented, bitterly opposed and ridiculed, but thishas been generally done, as I believe, in good faith. On thewhole I do not doubt that my works have been over and over againgreatly overpraised. I rejoice that I have avoidedcontroversies, and this I owe to Lyell, who many years ago, inreference to my geological works, strongly advised me never toget entangled in a controversy, as it rarely did any good andcaused a miserable loss of time and temper.Whenever I have found out that I have blundered, or that my workhas been imperfect, and when I have been contemptuouslycriticised, and even when I have been overpraised, so that I havefelt mortified, it has been my greatest comfort to say hundredsof times to myself that "I have worked as hard and as well as Icould, and no man can do more than this." I remember when inGood Success Bay, in Tierra del Fuego, thinking (and, I believe,that I wrote home to the effect) that I could not employ my lifebetter than in adding a little to Natural Science. This I havedone to the best of my abilities, and critics may say what theylike, but they cannot destroy this conviction.During the two last months of 1859 I was fully occupied inpreparing a second edition of the 'Origin,' and by an enormouscorrespondence. On January 1st, 1860, I began arranging my notesfor my work on the 'Variation of Animals and Plants underDomestication;' but it was not published until the beginning of1868; the delay having been caused partly by frequent illnesses,one of which lasted seven months, and partly by being tempted topublish on other subjects which at the time interested me more.On May 15th, 1862, my little book on the 'Fertilisation ofOrchids,' which cost me ten months' work, was published: most ofthe facts had been slowly accumulated during several previousyears. During the summer of 1839, and, I believe, during theprevious summer, I was led to attend to the cross-fertilisationof flowers by the aid of insects, from having come to theconclusion in my speculations on the origin of species, thatcrossing played an important part in keeping specific formsconstant. I attended to the subject more or less during everysubsequent summer; and my interest in it was greatly enhanced byhaving procured and read in November 1841, through the advice ofRobert Brown, a copy of C.K. Sprengel's wonderful book, 'Dasentdeckte Geheimniss der Natur.' For some years before 1862 Ihad specially attended to the fertilisation of our Britishorchids; and it seemed to me the best plan to prepare as completea treatise on this group of plants as well as I could, ratherthan to utilise the great mass of matter which I had slowlycollected with respect to other plants.My resolve proved a wise one; for since the appearance of mybook, a surprising number of papers and separate works on thefertilisation of all kinds of flowers have appeared: and theseare far better done than I could possibly have effected. Themerits of poor old Sprengel, so long overlooked, are now fullyrecognised many years after his death.During the same year I published in the 'Journal of the LinneanSociety' a paper "On the Two Forms, or Dimorphic Condition ofPrimula," and during the next five years, five other papers ondimorphic and trimorphic plants. I do not think anything in myscientific life has given me so much satisfaction as making outthe meaning of the structure of these plants. I had noticed in1838 or 1839 the dimorphism of Linum flavum, and had at firstthought that it was merely a case of unmeaning variability. Buton examining the common species of Primula I found that the twoforms were much too regular and constant to be thus viewed. Itherefore became almost convinced that the common cowslip andprimrose were on the high road to become dioecious;--that theshort pistil in the one form, and the short stamens in the otherform were tending towards abortion. The plants were thereforesubjected under this point of view to trial; but as soon as theflowers with short pistils fertilised with pollen from the shortstamens, were found to yield more seeds than any other of thefour possible unions, the abortion-theory was knocked on thehead. After some additional experiment, it became evident thatthe two forms, though both were perfect hermaphrodites, borealmost the same relation to one another as do the two sexes of anordinary animal. With Lythrum we have the still more wonderfulcase of three forms standing in a similar relation to oneanother. I afterwards found that the offspring from the union oftwo plants belonging to the same forms presented a close andcurious analogy with hybrids from the union of two distinctspecies.In the autumn of 1864 I finished a long paper on 'ClimbingPlants,' and sent it to the Linnean Society. The writing of thispaper cost me four months; but I was so unwell when I receivedthe proof-sheets that I was forced to leave them very badly andoften obscurely expressed. The paper was little noticed, butwhen in 1875 it was corrected and published as a separate book itsold well. I was led to take up this subject by reading a shortpaper by Asa Gray, published in 1858. He sent me seeds, and onraising some plants I was so much fascinated and perplexed by therevolving movements of the tendrils and stems, which movementsare really very simple, though appearing at first sight verycomplex, that I procured various other kinds of climbing plants,and studied the whole subject. I was all the more attracted toit, from not being at all satisfied with the explanation whichHenslow gave us in his lectures, about twining plants, namely,that they had a natural tendency to grow up in a spire. Thisexplanation proved quite erroneous. Some of the adaptationsdisplayed by Climbing Plants are as beautiful as those of Orchidsfor ensuring cross-fertilisation.My 'Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication' wasbegun, as already stated, in the beginning of 1860, but was notpublished until the beginning of 1868. It was a big book, andcost me four years and two months' hard labour. It gives all myobservations and an immense number of facts collected fromvarious sources, about our domestic productions. In the secondvolume the causes and laws of variation, inheritance, etc., arediscussed as far as our present state of knowledge permits. Towards the end of the work I give my well-abused hypothesis ofPangenesis. An unverified hypothesis is of little or no value;but if anyone should hereafter be led to make observations bywhich some such hypothesis could be established, I shall havedone good service, as an astonishing number of isolated facts canbe thus connected together and rendered intelligible. In 1875 asecond and largely corrected edition, which cost me a good dealof labour, was brought out.My 'Descent of Man' was published in February, 1871. As soon asI had become, in the year 1837 or 1838, convinced that specieswere mutable productions, I could not avoid the belief that manmust come under the same law. Accordingly I collected notes onthe subject for my own satisfaction, and not for a long time withany intention of publishing. Although in the 'Origin of Species'the derivation of any particular species is never discussed, yetI thought it best, in order that no honourable man should accuseme of concealing my views, to add that by the work "light wouldbe thrown on the origin of man and his history." It would havebeen useless and injurious to the success of the book to haveparaded, without giving any evidence, my conviction with respectto his origin.But when I found that many naturalists fully accepted thedoctrine of the evolution of species, it seemed to me advisableto work up such notes as I possessed, and to publish a specialtreatise on the origin of man. I was the more glad to do so, asit gave me an opportunity of fully discussing sexual selection--asubject which had always greatly interested me. This subject,and that of the variation of our domestic productions, togetherwith the causes and laws of variation, inheritance, and theintercrossing of plants, are the sole subjects which I have beenable to write about in full, so as to use all the materials whichI have collected. The 'Descent of Man' took me three years towrite, but then as usual some of this time was lost by illhealth, and some was consumed by preparing new editions and otherminor 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 onlya chapter on the subject in the 'Descent of Man,' but as soon asI began to put my notes together, I saw that it would require aseparate treatise.My first child was born on December 27th, 1839, and I at oncecommenced to make notes on the first dawn of the variousexpressions which he exhibited, for I felt convinced, even atthis early period, that the most complex and fine shades ofexpression must all have had a gradual and natural origin. During the summer of the following year, 1840, I read Sir C.Bell's admirable work on expression, and this greatly increasedthe interest which I felt in the subject, though I could not atall agree with his belief that various muscles had been speciallycreated for the sake of expression. From this time forward Ioccasionally attended to the subject, both with respect to manand our domesticated animals. My book sold largely; 5267 copieshaving 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 numerousinsects had been entrapped by the leaves. I carried home someplants, and on giving them insects saw the movements of thetentacles, and this made me think it probable that the insectswere caught for some special purpose. Fortunately a crucial testoccurred to me, that of placing a large number of leaves invarious nitrogenous and non-nitrogenous fluids of equal density;and as soon as I found that the former alone excited energeticmovements, it was obvious that here was a fine new field forinvestigation.During subsequent years, whenever I had leisure, I pursued myexperiments, and my book on 'Insectivorous Plants' was publishedin July 1875--that is, sixteen years after my first observations. The delay in this case, as with all my other books, has been agreat advantage to me; for a man after a long interval cancriticise his own work, almost as well as if it were that ofanother person. The fact that a plant should secrete, whenproperly excited, a fluid containing an acid and ferment, closelyanalogous to the digestive fluid of an animal, was certainly aremarkable discovery.During this autumn of 1876 I shall publish on the 'Effects ofCross and Self-Fertilisation in the Vegetable Kingdom.' Thisbook will form a complement to that on the 'Fertilisation ofOrchids,' in which I showed how perfect were the means for cross-fertilisation, and here I shall show how important are theresults. I was led to make, during eleven years, the numerousexperiments recorded in this volume, by a mere accidentalobservation; and indeed it required the accident to be repeatedbefore my attention was thoroughly aroused to the remarkable factthat seedlings of self-fertilised parentage are inferior, even inthe first generation, in height and vigour to seedlings of cross-fertilised parentage. I hope also to republish a revised editionof my book on Orchids, and hereafter my papers on dimorphic andtrimorphic plants, together with some additional observations onallied points which I never have had time to arrange. Mystrength will then probably be exhausted, and I shall be ready toexclaim "Nunc dimittis."WRITTEN MAY 1ST, 1881.'The Effects of Cross and Self-Fertilisation' was published inthe autumn of 1876; and the results there arrived at explain, asI believe, the endless and wonderful contrivances for thetransportal of pollen from one plant to another of the samespecies. I now believe, however, chiefly from the observationsof Hermann Muller, that I ought to have insisted more stronglythan I did on the many adaptations for self-fertilisation; thoughI was well aware of many such adaptations. A much enlargededition of my 'Fertilisation of Orchids' was published in 1877.In this same year 'The Different Forms of Flowers, etc.,'appeared, and in 1880 a second edition. This book consistschiefly of the several papers on Heterostyled flowers originallypublished by the Linnean Society, corrected, with much new matteradded, together with observations on some other cases in whichthe same plant bears two kinds of flowers. As before remarked,no little discovery of mine ever gave me so much pleasure as themaking out the meaning of heterostyled flowers. The results ofcrossing such flowers in an illegitimate manner, I believe to bevery important, as bearing on the sterility of hybrids; althoughthese results have been noticed by only a few persons.In 1879, I had a translation of Dr. Ernst Krause's 'Life ofErasmus Darwin' published, and I added a sketch of his characterand habits from material in my possession. Many persons havebeen much interested by this little life, and I am surprised thatonly 800 or 900 copies were sold.In 1880 I published, with [my son] Frank's assistance, our 'Powerof Movement in Plants.' This was a tough piece of work. Thebook 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 principleof evolution it was impossible to account for climbing plantshaving been developed in so many widely different groups unlessall kinds of plants possess some slight power of movement of ananalogous kind. This I proved to be the case; and I was furtherled to a rather wide generalisation, viz. that the great andimportant classes of movements, excited by light, the attractionof gravity, etc., are all modified forms of the fundamentalmovement of circumnutation. It has always pleased me to exaltplants in the scale of organised beings; and I therefore felt anespecial pleasure in showing how many and what admirably welladapted movements the tip of a root possesses.I have now (May 1, 1881) sent to the printers the MS. of a littlebook on 'The Formation of Vegetable Mould, through the Action ofWorms.' This is a subject of but small importance; and I knownot whether it will interest any readers (Between November 1881and February 1884, 8500 copies have been sold.), but it hasinterested me. It is the completion of a short paper read beforethe Geological Society more than forty years ago, and has revivedold geological thoughts.I have now mentioned all the books which I have published, andthese have been the milestones in my life, so that little remainsto be said. I am not conscious of any change in my mind duringthe last thirty years, excepting in one point presently to bementioned; nor, indeed, could any change have been expectedunless one of general deterioration. But my father lived to hiseighty-third year with his mind as lively as ever it was, and allhis faculties undimmed; and I hope that I may die before my mindfails to a sensible extent. I think that I have become a littlemore skilful in guessing right explanations and in devisingexperimental tests; but this may probably be the result of merepractice, and of a larger store of knowledge. I have as muchdifficulty as ever in expressing myself clearly and concisely;and this difficulty has caused me a very great loss of time; butit has had the compensating advantage of forcing me to think longand intently about every sentence, and thus I have been led tosee errors in reasoning and in my own observations or those ofothers.There seems to be a sort of fatality in my mind leading me to putat first my statement or proposition in a wrong or awkward form. Formerly I used to think about my sentences before writing themdown; but for several years I have found that it saves time toscribble 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 couldhave written deliberately.Having said thus much about my manner of writing, I will add thatwith my large books I spend a good deal of time over the generalarrangement of the matter. I first make the rudest outline intwo or three pages, and then a larger one in several pages, a fewwords or one word standing for a whole discussion or series offacts. Each one of these headings is again enlarged and oftentransferred before I begin to write in extenso. As in several ofmy books facts observed by others have been very extensivelyused, and as I have always had several quite distinct subjects inhand at the same time, I may mention that I keep from thirty toforty large portfolios, in cabinets with labelled shelves, intowhich I can at once put a detached reference or memorandum. Ihave bought many books, and at their ends I make an index of allthe facts that concern my work; or, if the book is not my own,write out a separate abstract, and of such abstracts I have alarge drawer full. Before beginning on any subject I look to allthe short indexes and make a general and classified index, and bytaking the one or more proper portfolios I have all theinformation collected during my life ready for use.I have said that in one respect my mind has changed during thelast twenty or thirty years. Up to the age of thirty, or beyondit, poetry of many kinds, such as the works of Milton, Gray,Byron, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Shelley, gave me greatpleasure, and even as a schoolboy I took intense delight inShakespeare, especially in the historical plays. I have alsosaid that formerly pictures gave me considerable, and music verygreat delight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read aline of poetry: I have tried lately to read Shakespeare, andfound it so intolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have alsoalmost lost my taste for pictures or music. Music generally setsme thinking too energetically on what I have been at work on,instead of giving me pleasure. I retain some taste for finescenery, but it does not cause me the exquisite delight which itformerly did. On the other hand, novels which are works of theimagination, though not of a very high order, have been for yearsa wonderful relief and pleasure to me, and I often bless allnovelists. A surprising number have been read aloud to me, and Ilike all if moderately good, and if they do not end unhappily--against which a law ought to be passed. A novel, according to mytaste, does not come into the first class unless it contains someperson whom one can thoroughly love, and if a pretty woman allthe better.This curious and lamentable loss of the higher aesthetic tastesis all the odder, as books on history, biographies, and travels(independently of any scientific facts which they may contain),and essays on all sorts of subjects interest me as much as everthey did. My mind seems to have become a kind of machine forgrinding general laws out of large collections of facts, but whythis should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brainalone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive. Aman with a mind more highly organised or better constituted thanmine, would not, I suppose, have thus suffered; and if I had tolive my life again, I would have made a rule to read some poetryand listen to some music at least once every week; for perhapsthe parts of my brain now atrophied would thus have been keptactive through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss ofhappiness, and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, andmore probably to the moral character, by enfeebling the emotionalpart of our nature.My books have sold largely in England, have been translated intomany languages, and passed through several editions in foreigncountries. I have heard it said that the success of a workabroad is the best test of its enduring value. I doubt whetherthis is at all trustworthy; but judged by this standard my nameought to last for a few years. Therefore it may be worth whileto try to analyse the mental qualities and the conditions onwhich my success has depended; though I am aware that no man cando this correctly.I have no great quickness of apprehension or wit which is soremarkable in some clever men, for instance, Huxley. I amtherefore a poor critic: a paper or book, when first read,generally excites my admiration, and it is only afterconsiderable reflection that I perceive the weak points. Mypower to follow a long and purely abstract train of thought isvery limited; and therefore I could never have succeeded withmetaphysics or mathematics. My memory is extensive, yet hazy: it suffices to make me cautious by vaguely telling me that I haveobserved or read something opposed to the conclusion which I amdrawing, or on the other hand in favour of it; and after a time Ican generally recollect where to search for my authority. Sopoor in one sense is my memory, that I have never been able toremember for more than a few days a single date or a line ofpoetry.Some of my critics have said, "Oh, he is a good observer, but hehas no power of reasoning!" I do not think that this can betrue, for the 'Origin of Species' is one long argument from thebeginning to the end, and it has convinced not a few able men. No one could have written it without having some power ofreasoning. I have a fair share of invention, and of common senseor judgment, such as every fairly successful lawyer or doctormust have, but not, I believe, in any higher degree.On the favourable side of the balance, I think that I am superiorto the common run of men in noticing things which easily escapeattention, and in observing them carefully. My industry has beennearly as great as it could have been in the observation andcollection of facts. What is far more important, my love ofnatural science has been steady and ardent.This pure love has, however, been much aided by the ambition tobe esteemed by my fellow naturalists. From my early youth I havehad the strongest desire to understand or explain whatever Iobserved,--that is, to group all facts under some general laws. These causes combined have given me the patience to reflect orponder for any number of years over any unexplained problem. Asfar as I can judge, I am not apt to follow blindly the lead ofother men. I have steadily endeavoured to keep my mind free soas to give up any hypothesis, however much beloved (and I cannotresist forming one on every subject), as soon as facts are shownto be opposed to it. Indeed, I have had no choice but to act inthis manner, for with the exception of the Coral Reefs, I cannotremember a single first-formed hypothesis which had not after atime to be given up or greatly modified. This has naturally ledme to distrust greatly deductive reasoning in the mixed sciences. On the other hand, I am not very sceptical,--a frame of mindwhich I believe to be injurious to the progress of science. Agood deal of scepticism in a scientific man is advisable to avoidmuch loss of time, but I have met with not a few men, who, I feelsure, have often thus been deterred from experiment orobservations, which would have proved directly or indirectlyserviceable.In illustration, I will give the oddest case which I have known. A gentleman (who, as I afterwards heard, is a good localbotanist) wrote to me from the Eastern counties that the seed orbeans of the common field-bean had this year everywhere grown onthe wrong side of the pod. I wrote back, asking for furtherinformation, as I did not understand what was meant; but I didnot receive any answer for a very long time. I then saw in twonewspapers, one published in Kent and the other in Yorkshire,paragraphs stating that it was a most remarkable fact that "thebeans this year had all grown on the wrong side." So I thoughtthere must be some foundation for so general a statement. Accordingly, I went to my gardener, an old Kentish man, and askedhim whether he had heard anything about it, and he answered, "Oh,no, sir, it must be a mistake, for the beans grow on the wrongside only on leap-year, and this is not leap-year." I then askedhim how they grew in common years and how on leap-years, but soonfound that he knew absolutely nothing of how they grew at anytime, but he stuck to his belief.After a time I heard from my first informant, who, with manyapologies, said that he should not have written to me had he notheard the statement from several intelligent farmers; but that hehad since spoken again to every one of them, and not one knew inthe least what he had himself meant. So that here a belief--ifindeed a statement with no definite idea attached to it can becalled a belief--had spread over almost the whole of Englandwithout any vestige of evidence.I have known in the course of my life only three intentionallyfalsified statements, and one of these may have been a hoax (andthere have been several scientific hoaxes) which, however, tookin an American Agricultural Journal. It related to the formationin Holland of a new breed of oxen by the crossing of distinctspecies of Bos (some of which I happen to know are steriletogether), and the author had the impudence to state that he hadcorresponded with me, and that I had been deeply impressed withthe importance of his result. The article was sent to me by theeditor of an English Agricultural Journal, asking for my opinionbefore republishing it.A second case was an account of several varieties, raised by theauthor from several species of Primula, which had spontaneouslyyielded a full complement of seed, although the parent plants hadbeen carefully protected from the access of insects. Thisaccount was published before I had discovered the meaning ofheterostylism, and the whole statement must have been fraudulent,or there was neglect in excluding insects so gross as to bescarcely credible.The third case was more curious: Mr. Huth published in his bookon 'Consanguineous Marriage' some long extracts from a Belgianauthor, who stated that he had interbred rabbits in the closestmanner for very many generations, without the least injuriouseffects. The account was published in a most respectableJournal, that of the Royal Society of Belgium; but I could notavoid feeling doubts--I hardly know why, except that there wereno accidents of any kind, and my experience in breeding animalsmade me think this very improbable.So with much hesitation I wrote to Professor Van Beneden, askinghim whether the author was a trustworthy man. I soon heard inanswer that the Society had been greatly shocked by discoveringthat the whole account was a fraud. (The falseness of thepublished statements on which Mr. Huth relied has been pointedout by himself in a slip inserted in all the copies of his bookwhich then remained unsold.) The writer had been publiclychallenged in the Journal to say where he had resided and kepthis large stock of rabbits while carrying on his experiments,which must have consumed several years, and no answer could beextracted from him.My habits are methodical, and this has been of not a little usefor my particular line of work. Lastly, I have had ample leisurefrom not having to earn my own bread. Even ill-health, though ithas annihilated several years of my life, has saved me from thedistractions of society and amusement.Therefore my success as a man of science, whatever this may haveamounted to, has been determined, as far as I can judge, bycomplex and diversified mental qualities and conditions. Ofthese, the most important have been--the love of science--unbounded patience in long reflecting over any subject--industryin observing and collecting facts--and a fair share of inventionas well as of common sense. With such moderate abilities as Ipossess, it is truly surprising that I should have influenced toa considerable extent the belief of scientific men on someimportant points.