THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF CHARLES DARWIN
INCLUDING AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CHAPTER
EDITED BY HIS SON
FRANCIS DARWIN
VOLUME I
PREFACE
In choosing letters for publication I have been largely guided by the wish
to illustrate my father's personal character. But his life was so
essentially one of work, that a history of the man could not be written
without following closely the career of the author. Thus it comes about
that the chief part of the book falls into chapters whose titles correspond
to the names of his books.
In arranging the letters I have adhered as far as possible to chronological
sequence, but the character and variety of his researches make a strictly
chronological order an impossibility. It was his habit to work more or
less simultaneously at several subjects. Experimental work was often
carried on as a refreshment or variety, while books entailing reasoning and
the marshalling of large bodies of facts were being written. Moreover,
many of his researches were allowed to drop, and only resumed after an
interval of years. Thus a rigidly chronological series of letters would
present a patchwork of subjects, each of which would be difficult to
follow. The Table of Contents will show in what way I have attempted to
avoid this result.
In printing the letters I have followed (except in a few cases) the usual
plan of indicating the existence of omissions or insertions. My father's
letters give frequent evidence of having been written when he was tired or
hurried, and they bear the marks of this circumstance. In writing to a
friend, or to one of his family, he frequently omitted the articles: these
have been inserted without the usual indications, except in a few
instances, where it is of special interest to preserve intact the hurried
character of the letter. Other small words, such as "of", "to", etc., have
been inserted usually within brackets. I have not followed the originals
as regards the spelling of names, the use of capitals, or in the matter of
punctuation. My father underlined many words in his letters; these have
not always been given in italics,--a rendering which would unfairly
exaggerate their effect.
The Diary or Pocket-book, from which quotations occur in the following
pages, has been of value as supplying a frame-work of facts round which
letters may be grouped. It is unfortunately written with great brevity,
the history of a year being compressed into a page or less; and contains
little more than the dates of the principal events of his life, together
with entries as to his work, and as to the duration of his more serious
illnesses. He rarely dated his letters, so that but for the Diary it would
have been all but impossible to unravel the history of his books. It has
also enabled me to assign dates to many letters which would otherwise have
been shorn of half their value.
Of letters addressed to my father I have not made much use. It was his
custom to file all letters received, and when his slender stock of files
("spits" as he called them) was exhausted, he would burn the letters of
several years, in order that he might make use of the liberated "spits."
This process, carried on for years, destroyed nearly all letters received
before 1862. After that date he was persuaded to keep the more interesting
letters, and these are preserved in an accessible form.
I have attempted to give, in Chapter III., some account of his manner of
working. During the last eight years of his life I acted as his assistant,
and thus had an opportunity of knowing something of his habits and methods.
I have received much help from my friends in the course of my work. To
some I am indebted for reminiscences of my father, to others for
information, criticisms, and advice. To all these kind coadjutors I gladly
acknowledge my indebtedness. The names of some occur in connection with
their contributions, but I do not name those to whom I am indebted for
criticisms or corrections, because I should wish to bear alone the load of
my short-comings, rather than to let any of it fall on those who have done
their best to lighten it.
It will be seen how largely I am indebted to Sir Joseph Hooker for the
means of illustrating my father's life. The readers of these pages will, I
think, be grateful to Sir Joseph for the care with which he has preserved
his valuable collection of letters, and I should wish to add my
acknowledgment of the generosity with which he has placed it at my
disposal, and for the kindly encouragement given throughout my work.
To Mr. Huxley I owe a debt of thanks, not only for much kind help, but for
his willing compliance with my request that he should contribute a chapter
on the reception of the 'Origin of Species.'
Finally, it is a pleasure to acknowledge the courtesy of the publishers of
the 'Century Magazine' who have freely given me the use of their
illustrations. To Messrs. Maull and Fox and Messrs. Elliott and Fry I am
also indebted for their kindness in allowing me the use of reproductions of
their photographs.
FRANCIS DARWIN.
Cambridge,
October, 1887.
LIFE AND LETTERS OF CHARLES DARWIN.
VOLUME I.
CHAPTER 1.I.
THE DARWIN FAMILY.
The earliest records of the family show the Darwins to have been
substantial yeomen residing on the northern borders of Lincolnshire, close
to Yorkshire. The name is now very unusual in England, but I believe that
it is not unknown in the neighbourhood of Sheffield and in Lancashire.
Down to the year 1600 we find the name spelt in a variety of ways--Derwent,
Darwen, Darwynne, etc. It is possible, therefore, that the family migrated
at some unknown date from Yorkshire, Cumberland, or Derbyshire, where
Derwent occurs as the name of a river.
The first ancestor of whom we know was one William Darwin, who lived, about
the year 1500, at Marton, near Gainsborough. His great grandson, Richard
Darwyn, inherited land at Marton and elsewhere, and in his will, dated
1584, "bequeathed the sum of 3s. 4d. towards the settynge up of the
Queene's Majestie's armes over the quearie (choir) doore in the parishe
churche of Marton." (We owe a knowledge of these earlier members of the
family to researches amongst the wills at Lincoln, made by the well-known
genealogist, Colonel Chester.)
The son of this Richard, named William Darwin, and described as
"gentleman," appears to have been a successful man. Whilst retaining his
ancestral land at Marton, he acquired through his wife and by purchase an
estate at Cleatham, in the parish of Manton, near Kirton Lindsey, and fixed
his residence there. This estate remained in the family down to the year
1760. A cottage with thick walls, some fish-ponds and old trees, now alone
show where the "Old Hall" once stood, and a field is still locally known as
the "Darwin Charity," from being subject to a charge in favour of the poor
of Marton. William Darwin must, at least in part, have owed his rise in
station to his appointment in 1613 by James I. to the post of Yeoman of the
Royal Armoury of Greenwich. The office appears to have been worth only 33
pounds a year, and the duties were probably almost nominal; he held the
post down to his death during the Civil Wars.
The fact that this William was a royal servant may explain why his son,
also named William, served when almost a boy for the King, as "Captain-
Lieutenant" in Sir William Pelham's troop of horse. On the partial
dispersion of the royal armies, and the retreat of the remainder to
Scotland, the boy's estates were sequestrated by the Parliament, but they
were redeemed on his signing the Solemn League and Covenant, and on his
paying a fine which must have struck his finances severely; for in a
petition to Charles II. he speaks of his almost utter ruin from having
adhered to the royal cause.
During the Commonwealth, William Darwin became a barrister of Lincoln's
Inn, and this circumstance probably led to his marriage with the daughter
of Erasmus Earle, serjeant-at-law; hence his great-grandson, Erasmus
Darwin, the Poet, derived his Christian name. He ultimately became
Recorder of the city of Lincoln.
The eldest son of the Recorder, again called William, was born in 1655, and
married the heiress of Robert Waring, a member of a good Staffordshire
family. This lady inherited from the family of Lassells, or Lascelles, the
manor and hall of Elston, near Newark, which has remained ever since in the
family. (Captain Lassells, or Lascelles, of Elston was military secretary
to Monk, Duke of Albemarle, during the Civil Wars. A large volume of
account books, countersigned in many places by Monk, are now in the
possession of my cousin Francis Darwin. The accounts might possibly prove
of interest to the antiquarian or historian. A portrait of Captain
Lassells in armour, although used at one time as an archery-target by some
small boys of our name, was not irretrievably ruined.) A portrait of this
William Darwin at Elston shows him as a good-looking young man in a full-
bottomed wig.
This third William had two sons, William, and Robert who was educated as a
barrister. The Cleatham property was left to William, but on the
termination of his line in daughters reverted to the younger brother, who
had received Elston. On his mother's death Robert gave up his profession
and resided ever afterwards at Elston Hall. Of this Robert, Charles Darwin
writes (What follows is quoted from Charles Darwin's biography of his
grandfather, forming the preliminary notice to Ernst Krause's interesting
essay, 'Erasmus Darwin,' London, 1879, page 4.):--
"He seems to have had some taste for science, for he was an early member of
the well-known Spalding Club; and the celebrated antiquary Dr. Stukeley, in
'An Account of the almost entire Sceleton of a large Animal,' etc.,
published in the 'Philosophical Transactions,' April and May 1719, begins
the paper as follows: 'Having an account from my friend Robert Darwin,
Esq., of Lincoln's Inn, a person of curiosity, of a human sceleton
impressed in stone, found lately by the rector of Elston,' etc. Stukeley
then speaks of it as a great rarity, 'the like whereof has not been
observed before in this island to my knowledge.' Judging from a sort of
litany written by Robert, and handed down in the family, he was a strong
advocate of temperance, which his son ever afterwards so strongly
advocated:--
>From a morning that doth shine,
>From a boy that drinketh wine,
>From a wife that talketh Latine,
Good Lord deliver me!
"It is suspected that the third line may be accounted for by his wife, the
mother of Erasmus, having been a very learned lady. The eldest son of
Robert, christened Robert Waring, succeeded to the estate of Elston, and
died there at the age of ninety-two, a bachelor. He had a strong taste for
poetry, like his youngest brother Erasmus. Robert also cultivated botany,
and, when an oldish man, he published his 'Principia Botanica.' This book
in MS. was beautifully written, and my father [Dr. R.W. Darwin] declared
that he believed it was published because his old uncle could not endure
that such fine caligraphy should be wasted. But this was hardly just, as
the work contains many curious notes on biology--a subject wholly neglected
in England in the last century. The public, moreover, appreciated the
book, as the copy in my possession is the third edition."
The second son, William Alvey, inherited Elston, and transmitted it to his
granddaughter, the late Mrs. Darwin, of Elston and Creskeld. A third son,
John, became rector of Elston, the living being in the gift of the family.
The fourth son, the youngest child, was Erasmus Darwin, the poet and
philosopher.
TABLE OF RELATIONSHIP. (An incomplete list of family members.)
ROBERT DARWIN of Elston, 1682-1754, had three sons, William Alvey Darwin,
1726-1783, Robert Waring Darwin, 1724-1816, and Erasmus Darwin, 1731-1802.
William Alvey Darwin, 1726-1783, had a son, William Brown Darwin, 1774-
1841, and a daughter, Anne Darwin.
William Brown Darwin, 1774-1841, had two daughters, Charlotte Darwin and
Sarah Darwin.
Charlotte Darwin married Francis Rhodes, now Francis Darwin of Creskeld and
Elston.
Sarah Darwin married Edward Noel.
Anne Darwin married Samuel Fox and had a son, William Darwin Fox.
ERASMUS DARWIN, 1731-1802, married (1) MARY HOWARD, 1740-1770, with whom he
had two sons, Charles Darwin, 1758-1778, and ROBERT WARING DARWIN, and (2)
Eliz. Chandos-Pole, 1747-1832, with whom he had a daughter, Violetta
Darwin, and a son, Francis Sacheverel Darwin.
ROBERT WARING DARWIN, 1767-1848, married SUSANNAH WEDGWOOD and had a son,
CHARLES ROBERT DARWIN, b. February 12, 1809, d. April 19, 1882.
Violetta Darwin married Samuel Tertius Galton and had a son, Francis
Galton.
Francis Sacheverel Darwin, 1786-1859, had two sons, Reginald Darwin and
Edward Darwin, "High Elms."
The table above shows Charles Darwin's descent from Robert, and his
relationship to some other members of the family, whose names occur in his
correspondence. Among these are included William Darwin Fox, one of his
earliest correspondents, and Francis Galton, with whom he maintained a warm
friendship for many years. Here also occurs the name of Francis Sacheverel
Darwin, who inherited a love of natural history from Erasmus, and
transmitted it to his son Edward Darwin, author (under the name of "High
Elms") of a 'Gamekeeper's Manual' (4th Edition 1863), which shows keen
observation of the habits of various animals.
It is always interesting to see how far a man's personal characteristics
can be traced in his forefathers. Charles Darwin inherited the tall
stature, but not the bulky figure of Erasmus; but in his features there is
no traceable resemblance to those of his grandfather. Nor, it appears, had
Erasmus the love of exercise and of field-sports, so characteristic of
Charles Darwin as a young man, though he had, like his grandson, an
indomitable love of hard mental work. Benevolence and sympathy with
others, and a great personal charm of manner, were common to the two.
Charles Darwin possessed, in the highest degree, that "vividness of
imagination" of which he speaks as strongly characteristic of Erasmus, and
as leading "to his overpowering tendency to theorise and generalise." This
tendency, in the case of Charles Darwin, was fully kept in check by the
determination to test his theories to the utmost. Erasmus had a strong
love of all kinds of mechanism, for which Charles Darwin had no taste.
Neither had Charles Darwin the literary temperament which made Erasmus a
poet as well as a philosopher. He writes of Erasmus ('Life of Erasmus
Darwin,' page 68.): "Throughout his letters I have been struck with his
indifference to fame, and the complete absence of all signs of any over-
estimation of his own abilities, or of the success of his works." These,
indeed, seem indications of traits most strikingly prominent in his own
character. Yet we get no evidence in Erasmus of the intense modesty and
simplicity that marked Charles Darwin's whole nature. But by the quick
bursts of anger provoked in Erasmus, at the sight of any inhumanity or
injustice, we are again reminded of him.
On the whole, however, it seems to me that we do not know enough of the
essential personal tone of Erasmus Darwin's character to attempt more than
a superficial comparison; and I am left with an impression that, in spite
of many resemblances, the two men were of a different type. It has been
shown that Miss Seward and Mrs. Schimmelpenninck have misrepresented
Erasmus Darwin's character. (Ibid., pages 77, 79, etc.) It is, however,
extremely probable that the faults which they exaggerate were to some
extent characteristic of the man; and this leads me to think that Erasmus
had a certain acerbity or severity of temper which did not exist in his
grandson.
The sons of Erasmus Darwin inherited in some degree his intellectual
tastes, for Charles Darwin writes of them as follows:
"His eldest son, Charles (born September 3, 1758), was a young man of
extraordinary promise, but died (May 15, 1778) before he was twenty-one
years old, from the effects of a wound received whilst dissecting the brain
of a child. He inherited from his father a strong taste for various
branches of science, for writing verses, and for mechanics...He also
inherited stammering. With the hope of curing him, his father sent him to
France, when about eight years old (1766-'67), with a private tutor,
thinking that if he was not allowed to speak English for a time, the habit
of stammering might be lost; and it is a curious fact, that in after years,
when speaking French, he never stammered. At a very early age he collected
specimens of all kinds. When sixteen years old he was sent for a year to
[Christ Church] Oxford, but he did not like the place, and thought (in the
words of his father) that the 'vigour of his mind languished in the pursuit
of classical elegance like Hercules at the distaff, and sighed to be
removed to the robuster exercise of the medical school of Edinburgh.' He
stayed three years at Edinburgh, working hard at his medical studies, and
attending 'with diligence all the sick poor of the parish of Waterleith,
and supplying them with the necessary medicines.' The Aesculapian Society
awarded him its first gold medal for an experimental inquiry on pus and
mucus. Notices of him appeared in various journals; and all the writers
agree about his uncommon energy and abilities. He seems like his father to
have excited the warm affection of his friends. Professor Andrew Duncan...
spoke...about him with the warmest affection forty-seven years after his
death when I was a young medical student at Edinburgh...
"About the character of his second son, Erasmus (born 1759), I have little
to say, for though he wrote poetry, he seems to have had none of the other
tastes of his father. He had, however, his own peculiar tastes, viz.,
genealogy, the collecting of coins, and statistics. When a boy he counted
all the houses in the city of Lichfield, and found out the number of
inhabitants in as many as he could; he thus made a census, and when a real
one was first made, his estimate was found to be nearly accurate. His
disposition was quiet and retiring. My father had a very high opinion of
his abilities, and this was probably just, for he would not otherwise have
been invited to travel with, and pay long visits to, men so distinguished
in different ways as Boulton the engineer, and Day the moralist and
novelist." His death by suicide, in 1799, seems to have taken place in a
state of incipient insanity.
Robert Waring, the father of Charles Darwin, was born May 30, 1766, and
entered the medical profession like his father. He studied for a few
months at Leyden, and took his M.D. (I owe this information to the kindness
of Professor Rauwenhoff, Director of the Archives at Leyden. He quotes
from the catalogue of doctors that "Robertus Waring Darwin, Anglo-
britannus," defended (February 26, 1785) in the Senate a Dissertation on
the coloured images seen after looking at a bright object, and "Medicinae
Doctor creatus est a clar. Paradijs." The archives of Leyden University
are so complete that Professor Rauwenhoff is able to tell me that my
grandfather lived together with a certain "Petrus Crompton, Anglus," in
lodgings in the Apothekersdijk. Dr. Darwin's Leyden dissertation was
published in the 'Philosophical Transactions,' and my father used to say
that the work was in fact due to Erasmus Darwin.--F.D.) at that University
on February 26, 1785. "His father" (Erasmus) "brought ('Life of Erasmus
Darwin,' page 85.) him to Shrewsbury before he was twenty-one years old
(1787), and left him 20 pounds, saying, 'Let me know when you want more,
and I will send it you.' His uncle, the rector of Elston, afterwards also
sent him 20 pounds, and this was the sole pecuniary aid which he ever
received...Erasmus tells Mr. Edgeworth that his son Robert, after being
settled in Shrewsbury for only six months, 'already had between forty and
fifty patients.' By the second year he was in considerable, and ever
afterwards in very large, practice."
Robert Waring Darwin married (April 18, 1796) Susannah, the daughter of his
father's friend, Josiah Wedgwood, of Etruria, then in her thirty-second
year. We have a miniature of her, with a remarkably sweet and happy face,
bearing some resemblance to the portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds of her
father; a countenance expressive of the gentle and sympathetic nature which
Miss Meteyard ascribes to her. ('A Group of Englishmen,' by Miss Meteyard,
1871.) She died July 15, 1817, thirty-two years before her husband, whose
death occurred on November 13, 1848. Dr. Darwin lived before his marriage
for two or three years on St. John's Hill; afterwards at the Crescent,
where his eldest daughter Marianne was born; lastly at the "Mount," in the
part of Shrewsbury known as Frankwell, where the other children were born.
This house was built by Dr. Darwin about 1800, it is now in the possession
of Mr. Spencer Phillips, and has undergone but little alteration. It is a
large, plain, square, red-brick house, of which the most attractive feature
is the pretty green-house, opening out of the morning-room.
The house is charmingly placed, on the top of a steep bank leading down to
the Severn. The terraced bank is traversed by a long walk, leading from
end to end, still called "the Doctor's Walk." At one point in this walk
grows a Spanish chestnut, the branches of which bend back parallel to
themselves in a curious manner, and this was Charles Darwin's favourite
tree as a boy, where he and his sister Catherine had each their special
seat.
The Doctor took a great pleasure in his garden, planting it with ornamental
trees and shrubs, and being especially successful in fruit-trees; and this
love of plants was, I think, the only taste kindred to natural history
which he possessed. Of the "Mount pigeons," which Miss Meteyard describes
as illustrating Dr. Darwin's natural-history taste, I have not been able to
hear from those most capable of knowing. Miss Meteyard's account of him is
not quite accurate in a few points. For instance, it is incorrect to
describe Dr. Darwin as having a philosophical mind; his was a mind
especially given to detail, and not to generalising. Again, those who knew
him intimately describe him as eating remarkably little, so that he was not
"a great feeder, eating a goose for his dinner, as easily as other men do a
partridge." ('A Group of Englishmen,' page 263.) In the matter of dress
he was conservative, and wore to the end of his life knee-breeches and drab
gaiters, which, however, certainly did not, as Miss Meteyard says, button
above the knee--a form of costume chiefly known to us in grenadiers of
Queen Anne's day, and in modern wood-cutters and ploughboys.
Charles Darwin had the strongest feeling of love and respect for his
father's memory. His recollection of everything that was connected with
him was peculiarly distinct, and he spoke of him frequently; generally
prefacing an anecdote with some such phrase as, "My father, who was the
wisest man I ever knew, etc..." It was astonishing how clearly he
remembered his father's opinions, so that he was able to quote some maxims
or hint of his in most cases of illness. As a rule, he put small faith in
doctors, and thus his unlimited belief in Dr. Darwin's medical instinct and
methods of treatment was all the more striking.
His reverence for him was boundless and most touching. He would have
wished to judge everything else in the world dispassionately, but anything
his father had said was received with almost implicit faith. His daughter
Mrs. Litchfield remembers him saying that he hoped none of his sons would
ever believe anything because he said it, unless they were themselves
convinced of its truth,--a feeling in striking contrast with his own manner
of faith.
A visit which Charles Darwin made to Shrewsbury in 1869 left on the mind of
his daughter who accompanied him a strong impression of his love for his
old home. The then tenant of the Mount showed them over the house, etc.,
and with mistaken hospitality remained with the party during the whole
visit. As they were leaving, Charles Darwin said, with a pathetic look of
regret, "If I could have been left alone in that green-house for five
minutes, I know I should have been able to see my father in his wheel-chair
as vividly as if he had been there before me."
Perhaps this incident shows what I think is the truth, that the memory of
his father he loved the best, was that of him as an old man. Mrs.
Litchfield has noted down a few words which illustrate well his feeling
towards his father. She describes him as saying with the most tender
respect, "I think my father was a little unjust to me when I was young, but
afterwards I am thankful to think I became a prime favourite with him."
She has a vivid recollection of the expression of happy reverie that
accompanied these words, as if he were reviewing the whole relation, and
the remembrance left a deep sense of peace and gratitude.
What follows was added by Charles Darwin to his autobiographical
'Recollections,' and was written about 1877 or 1878.
"I may here add a few pages about my father, who was in many ways a
remarkable man.
"He was about 6 feet 2 inches in height, with broad shoulders, and very
corpulent, so that he was the largest man whom I ever saw. When he last
weighed himself, he was 24 stone, but afterwards increased much in weight.
His chief mental characteristics were his powers of observation and his
sympathy, neither of which have I ever seen exceeded or even equalled. His
sympathy was not only with the distresses of others, but in a greater
degree with the pleasures of all around him. This led him to be always
scheming to give pleasure to others, and, though hating extravagance, to
perform many generous actions. For instance, Mr. B--, a small manufacturer
in Shrewsbury, came to him one day, and said he should be bankrupt unless
he could at once borrow 10,000 pounds, but that he was unable to give any
legal security. My father heard his reasons for believing that he could
ultimately repay the money, and from [his] intuitive perception of
character felt sure that he was to be trusted. So he advanced this sum,
which was a very large one for him while young, and was after a time
repaid.
"I suppose that it was his sympathy which gave him unbounded power of
winning confidence, and as a consequence made him highly successful as a
physician. He began to practise before he was twenty-one years old, and
his fees during the first year paid for the keep of two horses and a
servant. On the following year his practice was large, and so continued
for about sixty years, when he ceased to attend on any one. His great
success as a doctor was the more remarkable, as he told me that he at first
hated his profession so much that if he had been sure of the smallest
pittance, or if his father had given him any choice, nothing should have
induced him to follow it. To the end of his life, the thought of an
operation almost sickened him, and he could scarcely endure to see a person
bled--a horror which he has transmitted to me--and I remember the horror
which I felt as a schoolboy in reading about Pliny (I think) bleeding to
death in a warm bath...
"Owing to my father's power of winning confidence, many patients,
especially ladies, consulted him when suffering from any misery, as a sort
of Father-Confessor. He told me that they always began by complaining in a
vague manner about their health, and by practice he soon guessed what was
really the matter. He then suggested that they had been suffering in their
minds, and now they would pour out their troubles, and he heard nothing
more about the body...Owing to my father's skill in winning confidence he
received many strange confessions of misery and guilt. He often remarked
how many miserable wives he had known. In several instances husbands and
wives had gone on pretty well together for between twenty and thirty years,
and then hated each other bitterly; this he attributed to their having lost
a common bond in their young children having grown up.
"But the most remarkable power which my father possessed was that of
reading the characters, and even the thoughts of those whom he saw even for
a short time. We had many instances of the power, some of which seemed
almost supernatural. It saved my father from ever making (with one
exception, and the character of this man was soon discovered) an unworthy
friend. A strange clergyman came to Shrewsbury, and seemed to be a rich
man; everybody called on him, and he was invited to many houses. My father
called, and on his return home told my sisters on no account to invite him
or his family to our house; for he felt sure that the man was not to be
trusted. After a few months he suddenly bolted, being heavily in debt, and
was found out to be little better than an habitual swindler. Here is a
case of trustfulness which not many men would have ventured on. An Irish
gentleman, a complete stranger, called on my father one day, and said that
he had lost his purse, and that it would be a serious inconvenience to him
to wait in Shrewsbury until he could receive a remittance from Ireland. He
then asked my father to lend him 20 pounds, which was immediately done, as
my father felt certain that the story was a true one. As soon as a letter
could arrive from Ireland, one came with the most profuse thanks, and
enclosing, as he said, a 20 pound Bank of England note, but no note was
enclosed. I asked my father whether this did not stagger him, but he
answered 'not in the least.' On the next day another letter came with many
apologies for having forgotten (like a true Irishman) to put the note into
his letter of the day before...(A gentleman) brought his nephew, who was
insane but quite gentle, to my father; and the young man's insanity led him
to accuse himself of all the crimes under heaven. When my father
afterwards talked over the matter with the uncle, he said, 'I am sure that
your nephew is really guilty of...a heinous crime.' Whereupon [the
gentleman] said, 'Good God, Dr. Darwin, who told you; we thought that no
human being knew the fact except ourselves!' My father told me the story
many years after the event, and I asked him how he distinguished the true
from the false self-accusations; and it was very characteristic of my
father that he said he could not explain how it was.
"The following story shows what good guesses my father could make. Lord
Shelburne, afterwards the first Marquis of Lansdowne, was famous (as
Macaulay somewhere remarks) for his knowledge of the affairs of Europe, on
which he greatly prided himself. He consulted my father medically, and
afterwards harangued him on the state of Holland. My father had studied
medicine at Leyden, and one day [while there] went a long walk into the
country with a friend who took him to the house of a clergyman (we will say
the Rev. Mr. A--, for I have forgotten his name), who had married an
Englishwoman. My father was very hungry, and there was little for luncheon
except cheese, which he could never eat. The old lady was surprised and
grieved at this, and assured my father that it was an excellent cheese, and
had been sent her from Bowood, the seat of Lord Shelburne. My father
wondered why a cheese should be sent her from Bowood, but thought nothing
more about it until it flashed across his mind many years afterwards,
whilst Lord Shelburne was talking about Holland. So he answered, 'I should
think from what I saw of the Rev. Mr. A--, that he was a very able man, and
well acquainted with the state of Holland.' My father saw that the Earl,
who immediately changed the conversation was much startled. On the next
morning my father received a note from the Earl, saying that he had delayed
starting on his journey, and wished particularly to see my father. When he
called, the Earl said, 'Dr. Darwin, it is of the utmost importance to me
and to the Rev. Mr. A-- to learn how you have discovered that he is the
source of my information about Holland.' So my father had to explain the
state of the case, and he supposed that Lord Shelburne was much struck with
his diplomatic skill in guessing, for during many years afterwards he
received many kind messages from him through various friends. I think that
he must have told the story to his children; for Sir C. Lyell asked me many
years ago why the Marquis of Lansdowne (the son or grand-son of the first
marquis) felt so much interest about me, whom he had never seen, and my
family. When forty new members (the forty thieves as they were then
called) were added to the Athenaeum Club, there was much canvassing to be
one of them; and without my having asked any one, Lord Lansdowne proposed
me and got me elected. If I am right in my supposition, it was a queer
concatenation of events that my father not eating cheese half-a-century
before in Holland led to my election as a member of the Athenaeum.
"The sharpness of his observation led him to predict with remarkable skill
the course of any illness, and he suggested endless small details of
relief. I was told that a young doctor in Shrewsbury, who disliked my
father, used to say that he was wholly unscientific, but owned that his
power of predicting the end of an illness was unparalleled. Formerly when
he thought that I should be a doctor, he talked much to me about his
patients. In the old days the practice of bleeding largely was universal,
but my father maintained that far more evil was thus caused than good done;
and he advised me if ever I was myself ill not to allow any doctor to take
more than an extremely small quantity of blood. Long before typhoid fever
was recognised as distinct, my father told me that two utterly distinct
kinds of illness were confounded under the name of typhus fever. He was
vehement against drinking, and was convinced of both the direct and
inherited evil effects of alcohol when habitually taken even in moderate
quantity in a very large majority of cases. But he admitted and advanced
instances of certain persons who could drink largely during their whole
lives without apparently suffering any evil effects, and he believed that
he could often beforehand tell who would thus not suffer. He himself never
drank a drop of any alcoholic fluid. This remark reminds me of a case
showing how a witness under the most favourable circumstances may be
utterly mistaken. A gentleman-farmer was strongly urged by my father not
to drink, and was encouraged by being told that he himself never touched
any spirituous liquor. Whereupon the gentleman said, 'Come, come, Doctor,
this won't do--though it is very kind of you to say so for my sake--for I
know that you take a very large glass of hot gin and water every evening
after your dinner.' (This belief still survives, and was mentioned to my
brother in 1884 by an old inhabitant of Shrewsbury.--F.D.) So my father
asked him how he knew this. The man answered, 'My cook was your kitchen-
maid for two or three years, and she saw the butler every day prepare and
take to you the gin and water.' The explanation was that my father had the
odd habit of drinking hot water in a very tall and large glass after his
dinner; and the butler used first to put some cold water in the glass,
which the girl mistook for gin, and then filled it up with boiling water
from the kitchen boiler.
"My father used to tell me many little things which he had found useful in
his medical practice. Thus ladies often cried much while telling him their
troubles, and thus caused much loss of his precious time. He soon found
that begging them to command and restrain themselves, always made them weep
the more, so that afterwards he always encouraged them to go on crying,
saying that this would relieve them more than anything else, and with the
invariable result that they soon ceased to cry, and he could hear what they
had to say and give his advice. When patients who were very ill craved for
some strange and unnatural food, my father asked them what had put such an
idea into their heads; if they answered that they did not know, he would
allow them to try the food, and often with success, as he trusted to their
having a kind of instinctive desire; but if they answered that they had
heard that the food in question had done good to some one else, he firmly
refused his assent.
"He gave one day an odd little specimen of human nature. When a very young
man he was called in to consult with the family physician in the case of a
gentleman of much distinction in Shropshire. The old doctor told the wife
that the illness was of such a nature that it must end fatally. My father
took a different view and maintained that the gentleman would recover: he
was proved quite wrong in all respects (I think by autopsy) and he owned
his error. He was then convinced that he should never again be consulted
by this family; but after a few months the widow sent for him, having
dismissed the old family doctor. My father was so much surprised at this,
that he asked a friend of the widow to find out why he was again consulted.
The widow answered her friend, that 'she would never again see the odious
old doctor who said from the first that her husband would die, while Dr.
Darwin always maintained that he would recover!' In another case my father
told a lady that her husband would certainly die. Some months afterwards
he saw the widow, who was a very sensible woman, and she said, 'You are a
very young man, and allow me to advise you always to give, as long as you
possibly can, hope to any near relative nursing a patient. You made me
despair, and from that moment I lost strength.' My father said that he had
often since seen the paramount importance, for the sake of the patient, of
keeping up the hope and with it the strength of the nurse in charge. This
he sometimes found difficult to do compatibly with truth. One old
gentleman, however, caused him no such perplexity. He was sent for by
Mr.P--, who said, 'From all that I have seen and heard of you I believe
that you are the sort of man who will speak the truth, and if I ask, you
will tell me when I am dying. Now I much desire that you should attend me,
if you will promise, whatever I may say, always to declare that I am not
going to die.' My father acquiesced on the understanding that his words
should in fact have no meaning.
"My father possessed an extraordinary memory, especially for dates, so that
he knew, when he was very old, the day of the birth, marriage, and death of
a multitude of persons in Shropshire; and he once told me that this power
annoyed him; for if he once heard a date, he could not forget it; and thus
the deaths of many friends were often recalled to his mind. Owing to his
strong memory he knew an extraordinary number of curious stories, which he
liked to tell, as he was a great talker. He was generally in high spirits,
and laughed and joked with every one--often with his servants--with the
utmost freedom; yet he had the art of making every one obey him to the
letter. Many persons were much afraid of him. I remember my father
telling us one day, with a laugh, that several persons had asked him
whether Miss --, a grand old lady in Shropshire, had called on him, so that
at last he enquired why they asked him; and he was told that Miss --, whom
my father had somehow mortally offended, was telling everybody that she
would call and tell 'that fat old doctor very plainly what she thought of
him.' She had already called, but her courage had failed, and no one could
have been more courteous and friendly. As a boy, I went to stay at the
house of --, whose wife was insane; and the poor creature, as soon as she
saw me, was in the most abject state of terror that I ever saw, weeping
bitterly and asking me over and over again, 'Is your father coming?' but
was soon pacified. On my return home, I asked my father why she was so
frightened, and he answered he was very glad to hear it, as he had
frightened her on purpose, feeling sure that she would be kept in safety
and much happier without any restraint, if her husband could influence her,
whenever she became at all violent, by proposing to send for Dr. Darwin;
and these words succeeded perfectly during the rest of her long life.
"My father was very sensitive, so that many small events annoyed him or
pained him much. I once asked him, when he was old and could not walk, why
he did not drive out for exercise; and he answered, 'Every road out of
Shrewsbury is associated in my mind with some painful event.' Yet he was
generally in high spirits. He was easily made very angry, but his kindness
was unbounded. He was widely and deeply loved.
"He was a cautious and good man of business, so that he hardly ever lost
money by an investment, and left to his children a very large property. I
remember a story showing how easily utterly false beliefs originate and
spread. Mr. E --, a squire of one of the oldest families in Shropshire,
and head partner in a bank, committed suicide. My father was sent for as a
matter of form, and found him dead. I may mention, by the way, to show how
matters were managed in those old days, that because Mr. E -- was a rather
great man, and universally respected, no inquest was held over his body.
My father, in returning home, thought it proper to call at the bank (where
he had an account) to tell the managing partners of the event, as it was
not improbable that it would cause a run on the bank. Well, the story was
spread far and wide, that my father went into the bank, drew out all his
money, left the bank, came back again, and said, 'I may just tell you that
Mr. E -- has killed himself,' and then departed. It seems that it was then
a common belief that money withdrawn from a bank was not safe until the
person had passed out through the door of the bank. My father did not hear
this story till some little time afterwards, when the managing partner said
that he had departed from his invariable rule of never allowing any one to
see the account of another man, by having shown the ledger with my father's
account to several persons, as this proved that my father had not drawn out
a penny on that day. It would have been dishonourable in my father to have
used his professional knowledge for his private advantage. Nevertheless,
the supposed act was greatly admired by some persons; and many years
afterwards, a gentleman remarked, 'Ah, Doctor, what a splendid man of
business you were in so cleverly getting all your money safe out of that
bank!'
"My father's mind was not scientific, and he did not try to generalize his
knowledge under general laws; yet he formed a theory for almost everything
which occurred. I do not think I gained much from him intellectually; but
his example ought to have been of much moral service to all his children.
One of his golden rules (a hard one to follow) was, 'Never become the
friend of any one whom you cannot respect.'"
Dr. Darwin had six children (Of these Mrs. Wedgwood is now the sole
survivor.): Marianne, married Dr. Henry Parker; Caroline, married Josiah
Wedgwood; Erasmus Alvey; Susan, died unmarried; Charles Robert; Catherine,
married Rev. Charles Langton.
The elder son, Erasmus, was born in 1804, and died unmarried at the age of
seventy-seven.
He, like his brother, was educated at Shrewsbury School and at Christ's
College, Cambridge. He studied medicine at Edinburgh and in London, and
took the degree of Bachelor of Medicine at Cambridge. He never made any
pretence of practising as a doctor, and, after leaving Cambridge, lived a
quiet life in London.
There was something pathetic in Charles Darwin's affection for his brother
Erasmus, as if he always recollected his solitary life, and the touching
patience and sweetness of his nature. He often spoke of him as "Poor old
Ras," or "Poor dear old Philos"--I imagine Philos (Philosopher) was a relic
of the days when they worked at chemistry in the tool-house at Shrewsbury--
a time of which he always preserved a pleasant memory. Erasmus being
rather more than four years older than Charles Darwin, they were not long
together at Cambridge, but previously at Edinburgh they lived in the same
lodgings, and after the Voyage they lived for a time together in Erasmus'
house in Great Marlborough Street. At this time also he often speaks with
much affection of Erasmus in his letters to Fox, using words such as "my
dear good old brother." In later years Erasmus Darwin came to Down
occasionally, or joined his brother's family in a summer holiday. But
gradually it came about that he could not, through ill health, make up his
mind to leave London, and then they only saw each other when Charles Darwin
went for a week at a time to his brother's house in Queen Anne Street.
The following note on his brother's character was written by Charles Darwin
at about the same time that the sketch of his father was added to the
'Recollections.':--
"My brother Erasmus possessed a remarkably clear mind with extensive and
diversified tastes and knowledge in literature, art, and even in science.
For a short time he collected and dried plants, and during a somewhat
longer time experimented in chemistry. He was extremely agreeable, and his
wit often reminded me of that in the letters and works of Charles Lamb. He
was very kind-hearted...His health from his boyhood had been weak, and as a
consequence he failed in energy. His spirits were not high, sometimes low,
more especially during early and middle manhood. He read much, even whilst
a boy, and at school encouraged me to read, lending me books. Our minds
and tastes were, however, so different, that I do not think I owe much to
him intellectually. I am inclined to agree with Francis Galton in
believing that education and environment produce only a small effect on the
mind of any one, and that most of our qualities are innate."
Erasmus Darwin's name, though not known to the general public, may be
remembered from the sketch of his character in Carlyle's 'Reminiscences,'
which I here reproduce in part:--
"Erasmus Darwin, a most diverse kind of mortal, came to seek us out very
soon ('had heard of Carlyle in Germany, etc.') and continues ever since to
be a quiet house-friend, honestly attached; though his visits latterly have
been rarer and rarer, health so poor, I so occupied, etc., etc. He had
something of original and sarcastically ingenious in him, one of the
sincerest, naturally truest, and most modest of men; elder brother of
Charles Darwin (the famed Darwin on Species of these days) to whom I rather
prefer him for intellect, had not his health quite doomed him to silence
and patient idleness...My dear one had a great favour for this honest
Darwin always; many a road, to shops and the like, he drove her in his cab
(Darwingium Cabbum comparable to Georgium Sidus) in those early days when
even the charge of omnibuses was a consideration, and his sparse
utterances, sardonic often, were a great amusement to her. 'A perfect
gentleman,' she at once discerned him to be, and of sound worth and
kindliness in the most unaffected form." (Carlyle's 'Reminiscences,' vol.
ii. page 208.)
Charles Darwin did not appreciate this sketch of his brother; he thought
Carlyle had missed the essence of his most lovable nature.
I am tempted by the wish of illustrating further the character of one so
sincerely beloved by all Charles Darwin's children, to reproduce a letter
to the "Spectator" (September 3, 1881) by his cousin Miss Julia Wedgwood.
"A portrait from Mr. Carlyle's portfolio not regretted by any who loved the
original, surely confers sufficient distinction to warrant a few words of
notice, when the character it depicts is withdrawn from mortal gaze.
Erasmus, the only brother of Charles Darwin, and the faithful and
affectionate old friend of both the Carlyles, has left a circle of mourners
who need no tribute from illustrious pen to embalm the memory so dear to
their hearts; but a wider circle must have felt some interest excited by
that tribute, and may receive with a certain attention the record of a
unique and indelible impression, even though it be made only on the hearts
of those who cannot bequeath it, and with whom, therefore, it must speedily
pass away. They remember it with the same distinctness as they remember a
creation of genius; it has in like manner enriched and sweetened life,
formed a common meeting-point for those who had no other; and, in its
strong fragrance of individuality, enforced that respect for the
idiosyncracies of human character without which moral judgment is always
hard and shallow, and often unjust. Carlyle was one to find a peculiar
enjoyment in the combination of liveliness and repose which gave his
friend's society an influence at once stimulating and soothing, and the
warmth of his appreciation was not made known first in its posthumous
expression; his letters of anxiety nearly thirty years ago, when the frail
life which has been prolonged to old age was threatened by serious illness,
are still fresh in my memory. The friendship was equally warm with both
husband and wife. I remember well a pathetic little remonstrance from her
elicited by an avowal from Erasmus Darwin, that he preferred cats to dogs,
which she felt a slur on her little 'Nero;' and the tones in which she
said, 'Oh, but you are fond of dogs! you are too kind not to be,' spoke of
a long vista of small, gracious kindnesses, remembered with a tender
gratitude. He was intimate also with a person whose friends, like those of
Mr. Carlyle, have not always had cause to congratulate themselves on their
place in her gallery,--Harriet Martineau. I have heard him more than once
call her a faithful friend, and it always seemed to me a curious tribute to
something in the friendship that he alone supplied; but if she had written
of him at all, I believe the mention, in its heartiness of appreciation,
would have afforded a rare and curious meeting-point with the other
'Reminiscences,' so like and yet so unlike. It is not possible to transfer
the impression of a character; we can only suggest it by means of some
resemblance; and it is a singular illustration of that irony which checks
or directs our sympathies, that in trying to give some notion of the man
whom, among those who were not his kindred, Carlyle appears to have most
loved, I can say nothing more descriptive than that he seems to me to have
had something in common with the man whom Carlyle least appreciated. The
society of Erasmus Darwin had, to my mind, much the same charm as the
writings of Charles Lamb. There was the same kind of playfulness, the same
lightness of touch, the same tenderness, perhaps the same limitations. On
another side of his nature, I have often been reminded of him by the
quaint, delicate humour, the superficial intolerance, the deep springs of
pity, the peculiar mixture of something pathetic with a sort of gay scorn,
entirely remote from contempt, which distinguish the Ellesmere of Sir
Arthur Helps' earlier dialogues. Perhaps we recall such natures most
distinctly, when such a resemblance is all that is left of them. The
character is not merged in the creation; and what we lose in the power to
communicate our impression, we seem to gain in its vividness. Erasmus
Darwin has passed away in old age, yet his memory retains something of a
youthful fragrance; his influence gave much happiness, of a kind usually
associated with youth, to many lives besides the illustrious one whose
records justify, though certainly they do not inspire, the wish to place
this fading chaplet on his grave."
The foregoing pages give, in a fragmentary manner, as much perhaps as need
be told of the family from which Charles Darwin came, and may serve as an
introduction to the autobiographical chapter which follows.
