During the whole of the period now under consideration, he was in constant correspondence with Sir Joseph Hooker. The following characteristic letter on Sigillaria (a gigantic fossil plant found in the Coal Measures) was afterwards characterised by himself as not being "reasoning, or even speculation, but simply as mental rioting."
[Down, 1847?]
" ... I am delighted to hear that Brongniart thought Sigillaria aquatic, and that Binney considers coal a sort of submarine peat. I would bet 5 to 1 that in twenty years this will be generally admitted;[117] and I do not care for whatever the botanical difficulties or impossibilities may be. If I could but persuade myself that Sigillaria and Co. had a good range of depth, _i.e._ could live from 5 to 10 fathoms under water, all difficulties of nearly all kinds would be removed (for the simple fact of muddy ordinary shallow sea implies proximity of land). [N.B.--I am chuckling to think how you are sneering all this time.] It is not much of a difficulty, there not being sh.e.l.ls with the coal, considering how unfavourable deep mud is for most Mollusca, and that sh.e.l.ls would probably decay from the humic acid, as seems to take place in peat and in the _black_ moulds (as Lyell tells me) of the Mississippi. So coal question settled--Q. E. D. Sneer away!"
The two following extracts give the continuation and conclusion of the coal battle.
"By the way, as submarine coal made you so wrath, I thought I would experimentise on Falconer and Bunbury[118] together, and it made [them]
even more savage; "such infernal nonsense ought to be thrashed out of me." Bunbury was more polite and contemptuous. So I now know how to stir up and show off any Botanist. I wonder whether Zoologists and Geologists have got their tender points; I wish I could find out."
"I cannot resist thanking you for your most kind note. Pray do not think that I was annoyed by your letter: I perceived that you had been thinking with animation, and accordingly expressed yourself strongly, and so I understood it. Forfend me from a man who weighs every expression with Scotch prudence. I heartily wish you all success in your n.o.ble problem, and I shall be very curious to have some talk with you and hear your ultimatum."
He also corresponded with the late Hugh Strickland,--a well-known ornithologist, on the need of reform in the principle of nomenclature.
The following extract (1849) gives an idea of my father"s view:--
"I feel sure as long as species-mongers have their vanity tickled by seeing their own names appended to a species, because they miserably described it in two or three lines, we shall have the same _vast_ amount of bad work as at present, and which is enough to dishearten any man who is willing to work out any branch with care and time. I find every genus of Cirripedia has half-a-dozen names, and not one careful description of any one species in any one genus. I do not believe that this would have been the case if each man knew that the memory of his own name depended on his doing his work well, and not upon merely appending a name with a few wretched lines indicating only a few prominent external characters."
In 1848 Dr. R. W. Darwin died, and Charles Darwin wrote to Hooker, from Malvern:--
"On the 13th of November, my poor dear father died, and no one who did not know him would believe that a man above eighty-three years old could have retained so tender and affectionate a disposition, with all his sagacity unclouded to the last. I was at the time so unwell, that I was unable to travel, which added to my misery.
"All this winter I have been bad enough ... and my nervous system began to be affected, so that my hands trembled, and head was often swimming.
I was not able to do anything one day out of three, and was altogether too dispirited to write to you, or to do anything but what I was compelled. I thought I was rapidly going the way of all flesh. Having heard, accidentally, of two persons who had received much benefit from the water-cure, I got Dr. Gully"s book, and made further inquiries, and at last started here, with wife, children, and all our servants. We have taken a house for two months, and have been here a fortnight. I am already a little stronger.... Dr. Gully feels pretty sure he can do me good, which most certainly the regular doctors could not.... I feel certain that the water-cure is no quackery.
"How I shall enjoy getting back to Down with renovated health, if such is to be my good fortune, and resuming the beloved Barnacles. Now I hope that you will forgive me for my negligence in not having sooner answered your letter. I was uncommonly interested by the sketch you give of your intended grand expedition, from which I suppose you will soon be returning. How earnestly I hope that it may prove in every way successful...."
_C. D. to W. D. Fox_. [March 7, 1852.]
Our long silence occurred to me a few weeks since, and I had then thought of writing, but was idle. I congratulate and condole with you on your _tenth_ child; but please to observe when I have a tenth, send only condolences to me. We have now seven children, all well, thank G.o.d, as well as their mother; of these seven, five are boys; and my father used to say that it was certain that a boy gave as much trouble as three girls; so that _bona fide_ we have seventeen children. It makes me sick whenever I think of professions; all seem hopelessly bad, and as yet I cannot see a ray of light. I should very much like to talk over this (by the way, my three bugbears are Californian and Australian gold, beggaring me by making my money on mortgage worth nothing; the French coming by the Westerham and Sevenoaks roads, and therefore enclosing Down; and thirdly, professions for my boys), and I should like to talk about education, on which you ask me what we are doing. No one can more truly despise the old stereotyped stupid cla.s.sical education than I do; but yet I have not had courage to break through the trammels. After many doubts we have just sent our eldest boy to Rugby, where for his age he has been very well placed.... I honour, admire, and envy you for educating your boys at home. What on earth shall you do with your boys?
Very many thanks for your most kind and large invitation to Delamere, but I fear we can hardly compa.s.s it. I dread going anywhere, on account of my stomach so easily failing under any excitement. I rarely even now go to London, not that I am at all worse, perhaps rather better, and lead a very comfortable life with my three hours of daily work, but it is the life of a hermit. My nights are _always_ bad, and that stops my becoming vigorous. You ask about water-cure. I take at intervals of two or three months, five or six weeks of _moderately_ severe treatment, and always with good effect. Do you come here, I pray and beg whenever you can find time; you cannot tell how much pleasure it would give me and E.
What pleasant times we had in drinking coffee in your rooms at Christ"s College, and think of the glories of Crux-major.[119] Ah, in those days there were no professions for sons, no ill-health to fear for them, no Californian gold, no French invasions. How paramount the future is to the present when one is surrounded by children. My dread is hereditary ill-health. Even death is better for them.
My dear Fox, your sincere friend.
P.S.--Susan[120] has lately been working in a way which I think truly heroic about the scandalous violation of the Act against children climbing chimneys. We have set up a little Society in Shrewsbury to prosecute those who break the law. It is all Susan"s doing. She has had very nice letters from Lord Shaftesbury and the Duke of Sutherland, but the brutal Shropshire squires are as hard as stones to move. The Act out of London seems most commonly violated. It makes one shudder to fancy one of one"s own children at seven years old being forced up a chimney--to say nothing of the consequent loathsome disease and ulcerated limbs, and utter moral degradation. If you think strongly on this subject, do make some enquiries; add to your many good works, this other one, and try to stir up the magistrates....
The following letter refers to the Royal Medal, which was awarded to him in November, 1853:
_C. D. to J. D. Hooker_. Down [November 1853].
MY DEAR HOOKER--Amongst my letters received this morning, I opened first one from Colonel Sabine; the contents certainly surprised me very much, but, though the letter was a _very kind one_, somehow, I cared very little indeed for the announcement it contained. I then opened yours, and such is the effect of warmth, friendship, and kindness from one that is loved, that the very same fact, told as you told it, made me glow with pleasure till my very heart throbbed. Believe me, I shall not soon forget the pleasure of your letter. Such hearty, affectionate sympathy is worth more than all the medals that ever were or will be coined.
Again, my dear Hooker, I thank you. I hope Lindley[121] will never hear that he was a compet.i.tor against me; for really it is almost _ridiculous_ (of course you would never repeat that I said this, for it would be thought by others, though not, I believe by you, to be affectation) his not having the medal long before me; I must feel _sure_ that you did quite right to propose him; and what a good, dear, kind fellow you are, nevertheless, to rejoice in this honour being bestowed on me.
What _pleasure_ I have felt on the occasion, I owe almost entirely to you.[122]
Farewell, my dear Hooker, yours affectionately.
The following series of extracts, must, for want of s.p.a.ce, serve as a sketch of his feeling with regard to his seven years" work at Barnacles[123]:--
_September 1849._--"It makes me groan to think that probably I shall never again have the exquisite pleasure of making out some new district, of evolving geological light out of some troubled dark region. So I must make the best of my Cirripedia...."
_October 1849._--"I have of late been at work at mere species describing, which is much more difficult than I expected, and has much the same sort of interest as a puzzle has; but I confess I often feel wearied with the work, and cannot help sometimes asking myself what is the good of spending a week or fortnight in ascertaining that certain just perceptible differences blend together and const.i.tute varieties and not species. As long as I am on anatomy I never feel myself in that disgusting, horrid, _cui bono_, inquiring, humour. What miserable work, again, it is searching for priority of names. I have just finished two species, which possess seven generic, and twenty-four specific names! My chief comfort is, that the work must be sometime done, and I may as well do it, as any one else."
_October 1852._--"I am at work at the second volume of the Cirripedia, of which creatures I am wonderfully tired. I hate a Barnacle as no man ever did before, not even a sailor in a slow-sailing ship. My first volume is out; the only part worth looking at is on the s.e.xes of Ibla and Scalpellum. I hope by next summer to have done with my tedious work."
_July 1853._--"I am _extremely_ glad to hear that you approved of my cirripedial volume. I have spent an almost ridiculous amount of labour on the subject, and certainly would never have undertaken it had I foreseen what a job it was."
In September, 1854, his Cirripede work was practically finished, and he wrote to Sir J. Hooker:
"I have been frittering away my time for the last several weeks in a wearisome manner, partly idleness, and odds and ends, find sending ten thousand Barnacles[124] out of the house all over the world. But I shall now in a day or two begin to look over my old notes on species. What a deal I shall have to discuss with you; I shall have to look sharp that I do not "progress" into one of the greatest bores in life, to the few like you with lots of knowledge."
FOOTNOTES:
[109] I must not omit to mention a member of the household who accompanied him. This was his butler, Joseph Parslow, who remained in the family, a valued friend and servant, for forty years, and became, as Sir Joseph Hooker once remarked to me, "an integral part of the family, and felt to be such by all visitors at the house."
[110] Charles Darwin, _Nature_ Series, 1882.
[111] To Sir John Herschel, May 24, 1837. _Life of Sir Charles Lyell_, vol. ii. p. 12.
[112] He wrote to Herbert:--"I have long discovered that geologists never read each other"s works, and that the only object in writing a book is a proof of earnestness, and that you do not form your opinions without undergoing labour of some kind. Geology is at present very oral, and what I here say is to a great extent quite true." And to Fitz-Roy, on the same subject, he wrote: "I have sent my _South American Geology_ to Dover Street, and you will get it, no doubt, in the course of time.
You do not know what you threaten when you propose to read it--it is purely geological. I said to my brother, "You will of course read it,"
and his answer was, "Upon my life, I would sooner even buy it.""
[113] The first edition was published in 1839, as vol. iii. of the _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle."_
[114] No doubt proof-sheets.
[115] _Three Generations of Englishwomen_, by Janet Ross (1888), vol. i.
p. 195.
[116] This refers to the third and last of his geological books, _Geological Observation on South America_, which was published in 1846.
A sentence from a letter of Dec. 11, 1860, may be quoted here--"David Forbes has been carefully working the Geology of Chile, and as I value praise for accurate observation far higher than for any other quality, forgive (if you can) the _insufferable_ vanity of my copying the last sentence in his note: "I regard your Monograph on Chile as, without exception, one of the finest specimens of Geological inquiry." I feel inclined to strut like a turkey-c.o.c.k!"
[117] An unfulfilled prophecy.
[118] The late Sir C. Bunbury, well known as a palaeobotanist.
[119] The beetle Panagaeus crux-major.
[120] His sister.
[121] John Lindley (b. 1799, d. 1865) was the son of a nurseryman near Norwich, through whose failure in business he was thrown at the age of twenty on his own resources. He was befriended by Sir W. Hooker, and employed as a.s.sistant librarian by Sir J. Banks. He seems to have had enormous capacity for work, and is said to have translated Richard"s _a.n.a.lyse du Fruit_ at one sitting of two days and three nights. He became a.s.sistant-Secretary to the Horticultural Society, and in 1829 was appointed Professor of Botany at University College, a post which he held for upwards of thirty years. His writings are numerous; the best known being perhaps his _Vegetable Kingdom_, published in 1846.
[122] Shortly afterwards he received a fresh mark of esteem from his warm-hearted friend: "Hooker"s book (_Himalayan Journal_) is out, and _most beautifully_ got up. He has honoured me beyond measure by dedicating it to me!"