Archdeacon Watkins, another old college friend of my father"s, remembers him unearthing beetles in the willows between Cambridge and Grantchester, and speaks of a certain beetle the remembrance of whose name is "Crux major." (Panagaeus crux-major.) How enthusiastically must my father have exulted over this beetle to have impressed its name on a companion so that he remembers it after half a century! Archdeacon Watkins goes on: "I do not forget the long and very interesting conversations that we had about Brazilian scenery and tropical vegetation of all sorts. Nor do I forget the way and the vehemence with which he rubbed his chin when he got excited on such subjects, and discoursed eloquently of lianas, orchids, etc."
He became intimate with Henslow, the Professor of Botany, and through him with some other older members of the University. "But," Mr. Herbert writes, "he always kept up the closest connection with the friends of his own standing; and at our frequent social gatherings--at breakfast, wine or supper parties--he was ever one of the most cheerful, the most popular, and the most welcome."
My father formed one of a club for dining once a week, called the Gourmet (Mr. Herbert mentions the name as "The Glutton Club.") Club, the members, besides himself and Mr. Herbert (from whom I quote), being Whitley of St. John"s, now Honorary Canon of Durham (Formerly Reader in Natural Philosophy at Durham University.); Heaviside of Sidney, now Canon of Norwich; Lovett Cameron of Trinity, now vicar of Sh.o.r.eham; Blane of Trinity, who held a high post during the Crimean war; H. Lowe (Brother of Lord Sherbrooke.) (Now Sherbrooke) of Trinity Hall; and Watkins of Emmanuel, now Archdeacon of York. The origin of the club"s name seems already to have become involved in obscurity. Mr. Herbert says that it was chosen in derision of another "set of men who called themselves by a long Greek name signifying "fond of dainties," but who falsified their claim to such a designation by their weekly practice of dining at some roadside inn, six miles from Cambridge, on mutton chops or beans and bacon." Another old member of the club tells me that the name arose because the members were given to making experiments on "birds and beasts which were before unknown to human palate." He says that hawk and bittern were tried, and that their zeal broke down over an old brown owl, "which was indescribable." At any rate, the meetings seemed to have been successful, and to have ended with "a game of mild vingt-et-un."
Mr. Herbert gives an amusing account of the musical examinations described by my father in his "Recollections." Mr. Herbert speaks strongly of his love of music, and adds, "What gave him the greatest delight was some grand symphony or overture of Mozart"s or Beethoven"s, with their full harmonies." On one occasion Herbert remembers "accompanying him to the afternoon service at King"s, when we heard a very beautiful anthem. At the end of one of the parts, which was exceedingly impressive, he turned round to me and said, with a deep sigh, "How"s your backbone?"" He often spoke of a feeling of coldness or shivering in his back on hearing beautiful music.
Besides a love of music, he had certainly at this time a love of fine literature; and Mr. Cameron tells me that he used to read Shakespeare to my father in his rooms at Christ"s, who took much pleasure in it.
He also speaks of his "great liking for first-cla.s.s line engravings, especially those of Raphael Morghen and Muller; and he spent hours in the Fitzwilliam Museum in looking over the prints in that collection."
My father"s letters to Fox show how sorely oppressed he felt by the reading of an examination: "I am reading very hard, and have spirits for nothing. I actually have not stuck a beetle this term." His despair over mathematics must have been profound, when he expressed a hope that Fox"s silence is due to "your being ten fathoms deep in the Mathematics; and if you are, G.o.d help you, for so am I, only with this difference, I stick fast in the mud at the bottom, and there I shall remain." Mr.
Herbert says: "He had, I imagine, no natural turn for mathematics, and he gave up his mathematical reading before he had mastered the first part of Algebra, having had a special quarrel with Surds and the Binomial Theorem."
We get some evidence from his letters to Fox of my father"s intention of going into the Church. "I am glad," he writes (March 18, 1829.), "to hear that you are reading divinity. I should like to know what books you are reading, and your opinions about them; you need not be afraid of preaching to me prematurely." Mr. Herbert"s sketch shows how doubts arose in my father"s mind as to the possibility of his taking Orders.
He writes, "We had an earnest conversation about going into Holy Orders; and I remember his asking me, with reference to the question put by the Bishop in the ordination service, "Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Spirit, etc.," whether I could answer in the affirmative, and on my saying I could not, he said, "Neither can I, and therefore I cannot take orders."" This conversation appears to have taken place in 1829, and if so, the doubts here expressed must have been quieted, for in May 1830, he speaks of having some thoughts of reading divinity with Henslow.
[The greater number of the following letters are addressed by my father to his cousin, William Darwin Fox. Mr. Fox"s relationship to my father is shown in the pedigree given in Chapter I. The degree of kinship appears to have remained a problem to my father, as he signs himself in one letter "cousin/n to the power 2." Their friendship was, in fact, due to their being undergraduates together. My father"s letters show clearly enough how genuine the friendship was. In after years, distance, large families, and ill-health on both sides, checked the intercourse; but a warm feeling of friendship remained. The correspondence was never quite dropped and continued till Mr. Fox"s death in 1880. Mr. Fox took orders, and worked as a country clergyman until forced by ill-health to leave his living in Delamare Forest. His love of natural history remained strong, and he became a skilled fancier of many kinds of birds, etc.
The index to "Animals and Plants," and my father"s later correspondence, show how much help he received from his old College friend.]
CHARLES DARWIN TO J.M. HERBERT. Sat.u.r.day Evening [September 14, 1828].
(The postmark being Derby seems to show that the letter was written from his cousin, W.D. Fox"s house, Osmaston, near Derby.)
My dear old Cherbury,
I am about to fulfil my promise of writing to you, but I am sorry to add there is a very selfish motive at the bottom. I am going to ask you a great favour, and you cannot imagine how much you will oblige me by procuring some more specimens of some insects which I dare say I can describe. In the first place, I must inform you that I have taken some of the rarest of the British Insects, and their being found near Barmouth, is quite unknown to the Entomological world: I think I shall write and inform some of the crack entomologists.
But now for business. SEVERAL more specimens, if you can procure them without much trouble, of the following insects:--The violet-black coloured beetle, found on Craig Storm (The top of the hill immediately behind Barmouth was called Craig-Storm, a hybrid Cambro-English word.), under stones, also a large smooth black one very like it; a bluish metallic-coloured dung-beetle, which is VERY common on the hill-sides; also, if you WOULD be so very kind as to cross the ferry, and you will find a great number under the stones on the waste land of a long, smooth, jet-black beetle (a great many of these); also, in the same situation, a very small pinkish insect, with black spots, with a curved thorax projecting beyond the head; also, upon the marshy land over the ferry, near the sea, under old sea-weed, stones, etc., you will find a small yellowish transparent beetle, with two or four blackish marks on the back. Under these stones there are two sorts, one much darker than the other; the lighter-coloured is that which I want. These last two insects are EXCESSIVELY RARE, and you will really EXTREMELY oblige me by taking all this trouble pretty soon; remember me most kindly to Butler, tell him of my success, and I dare say both of you will easily recognise these insects. I hope his caterpillars go on well. I think many of the Chrysalises are well worth keeping. I really am quite ashamed [of] so long a letter all about my own concerns; but do return good for evil, and send me a long account of all your proceedings.
In the first week I killed seventy-five head of game--a very contemptible number--but there are very few birds. I killed, however, a brace of black game. Since then I have been staying at the Fox"s, near Derby; it is a very pleasant house, and the music meeting went off very well. I want to hear how Yates likes his gun, and what use he has made of it.
If the bottle is not large you can buy another for me, and when you pa.s.s through Shrewsbury you can leave these treasures, and I hope, if you possibly can, you will stay a day or two with me, as I hope I need not say how glad I shall be to see you again. Fox remarked what deuced good-natured fellows your friends at Barmouth must be; and if I did not know how you and Butler were so, I would not think of giving you so much trouble.
Believe me, my dear Herbert, Yours, most sincerely, CHARLES DARWIN.
Remember me to all friends.
[In the following January we find him looking forward with pleasure to the beginning of another year of his Cambridge life: he writes to Fox--
"I waited till to-day for the chance of a letter, but I will wait no longer. I must most sincerely and cordially congratulate you on having finished all your labours. I think your place a VERY GOOD one considering by how much you have beaten many men who had the start of you in reading. I do so wish I were now in Cambridge (a very selfish wish, however, as I was not with you in all your troubles and misery), to join in all the glory and happiness, which dangers gone by can give.
How we would talk, walk, and entomologise! Sappho should be the best of b.i.t.c.hes, and Dash, of dogs: then should be "peace on earth, good will to men,"--which, by the way, I always think the most perfect description of happiness that words can give."]
CHARLES DARWIN TO W.D. FOX. Cambridge, Thursday [February 26, 1829].
My dear Fox,
When I arrived here on Tuesday I found to my great grief and surprise, a letter on my table which I had written to you about a fortnight ago, the stupid porter never took the trouble of getting the letter forwarded. I suppose you have been abusing me for a most ungrateful wretch; but I am sure you will pity me now, as nothing is so vexatious as having written a letter in vain.
Last Thursday I left Shrewsbury for London, and stayed there till Tuesday, on which I came down here by the "Times." The first two days I spent entirely with Mr. Hope (Founder of the Chair of Zoology at Oxford.), and did little else but talk about and look at insects; his collection is most magnificent, and he himself is the most generous of entomologists; he has given me about 160 new species, and actually often wanted to give me the rarest insects of which he had only two specimens.
He made many civil speeches, and hoped you will call on him some time with me, whenever we should happen to be in London. He greatly compliments our exertions in Entomology, and says we have taken a wonderfully great number of good insects. On Sunday I spent the day with Holland, who lent me a horse to ride in the Park with.
On Monday evening I drank tea with Stephens (J.F. Stephens, author of "A Manual of British Coleoptera," 1839, and other works.); his cabinet is more magnificent than the most zealous entomologist could dream of; he appears to be a very good-humoured pleasant little man. Whilst in town I went to the Royal Inst.i.tution, Linnean Society, and Zoological Gardens, and many other places where naturalists are gregarious. If you had been with me, I think London would be a very delightful place; as things were, it was much pleasanter than I could have supposed such a dreary wilderness of houses to be.
I shot whilst in Shrewsbury a Dundiver (female Goosander, as I suppose you know). Shaw has stuffed it, and when I have an opportunity I will send it to Osmaston. There have been shot also five Waxen Chatterers, three of which Shaw has for sale; would you like to purchase a specimen?
I have not yet thanked you for your last very long and agreeable letter.
It would have been still more agreeable had it contained the joyful intelligence that you were coming up here; my two solitary breakfasts have already made me aware how very very much I shall miss you.
Believe me, My dear old Fox, Most sincerely yours, C. DARWIN.
[Later on in the Lent term he writes to Fox:--
"I am leading a quiet everyday sort of a life; a little of Gibbon"s History in the morning, and a good deal of "Van John" in the evening; this, with an occasional ride with Simc.o.x and const.i.tutional with Whitley, makes up the regular routine of my days. I see a good deal both of Herbert and Whitley, and the more I see of them increases every day the respect I have for their excellent understandings and dispositions.
They have been giving some very gay parties, nearly sixty men there both evenings."]
CHARLES DARWIN TO W.D. FOX. Christ"s College [Cambridge], April 1 [1829].
My dear Fox,
In your letter to Holden you are pleased to observe "that of all the blackguards you ever met with I am the greatest." Upon this observation I shall make no remarks, excepting that I must give you all due credit for acting on it most rigidly. And now I should like to know in what one particular are you less of a blackguard than I am? You idle old wretch, why have you not answered my last letter, which I am sure I forwarded to Clifton nearly three weeks ago? If I was not really very anxious to hear what you are doing, I should have allowed you to remain till you thought it worth while to treat me like a gentleman. And now having vented my spleen in scolding you, and having told you, what you must know, how very much and how anxiously I want to hear how you and your family are getting on at Clifton, the purport of this letter is finished. If you did but know how often I think of you, and how often I regret your absence, I am sure I should have heard from you long enough ago.
I find Cambridge rather stupid, and as I know scarcely any one that walks, and this joined with my lips not being quite so well, has reduced me to a sort of hybernation... I have caught Mr. Harbour letting -- have the first pick of the beetles; accordingly we have made our final adieus, my part in the affecting scene consisted in telling him he was a d--d rascal, and signifying I should kick him down the stairs if ever he appeared in my rooms again. It seemed altogether mightily to surprise the young gentleman. I have no news to tell you; indeed, when a correspondence has been broken off like ours has been, it is difficult to make the first start again. Last night there was a terrible fire at Linton, eleven miles from Cambridge. Seeing the reflection so plainly in the sky, Hall, Woodyeare, Turner, and myself thought we would ride and see it. We set out at half-past nine, and rode like incarnate devils there, and did not return till two in the morning. Altogether it was a most awful sight. I cannot conclude without telling you, that of all the blackguards I ever met with, you are the greatest and the best.
C. DARWIN.
CHARLES DARWIN TO W.D. FOX. [Cambridge, Thursday, April 23, 1829.]
My dear Fox,
I have delayed answering your last letter for these few days, as I thought that under such melancholy circ.u.mstances my writing to you would be probably only giving you trouble. This morning I received a letter from Catherine informing me of that event (The death of Fox"s sister, Mrs. Bristowe.), which, indeed, from your letter, I had hardly dared to hope would have happened otherwise. I feel most sincerely and deeply for you and all your family; but at the same time, as far as any one can, by his own good principles and religion, be supported under such a misfortune, you, I am a.s.sured, will know where to look for such support.
And after so pure and holy a comfort as the Bible affords, I am equally a.s.sured how useless the sympathy of all friends must appear, although it be as heartfelt and sincere, as I hope you believe me capable of feeling. At such a time of deep distress I will say nothing more, excepting that I trust your father and Mrs. Fox bear this blow as well as, under such circ.u.mstances, can be hoped for.
I am afraid it will be a long time, my dear Fox, before we meet; till then, believe me at all times,
Yours most affectionately, CHARLES DARWIN.
CHARLES DARWIN TO W.D. FOX. Shrewsbury, Friday [July 4, 1829].
My dear Fox,
I should have written to you before only that whilst our expedition lasted I was too much engaged, and the conclusion was so unfortunate, that I was too unhappy to write to you till this week"s quiet at home.
The thoughts of Woodhouse next week has at last given me courage to relate my unfortunate case.