Chapter X: Part 10

"Agassiz displayed during these years," said one of his co-workers, "an incredible energy, of which the history of science offers, perhaps, no other example." He worked always till midnight, often till two or three o'clock, sitting for hours at his microscope, troubled much with congestion of the head and eyes. The expense involved in his work was enormous, and he was burdening himself with debts, which are more wearing and destructive to health and happiness than any amount of work can ever be.

Still he struggled on, through these dark days of poverty. He was only thirty-three, so young-looking that, on seeing him, people asked if he were "the son of the celebrated professor of Neuchatel." He had already been chosen a member of the Royal Society of London.

In 1840 he made his first permanent station on the Alps, taking with him barometers, thermometers, hygrometers, psychometers, boring apparatus, and microscopes, making the Hospice of the Grimsel his base of supplies, and the lower Aar glacier the scene of his work. A huge boulder, its upper surface forming a roof, with a stone wall constructed on one side, became the sleeping-room of Agassiz and five friends. This abode was called the Hotel des Neuchatelois. Jacob Leuthold, an intrepid Swiss, was their chief guide. He died at thirty-seven, sincerely mourned by all. They made dangerous ascents of snow-covered peaks, measured the depth and forward movement of glaciers, Agassiz even being lowered by ropes one hundred and twenty-five feet into a glacial well, to investigate its formation.

All Europe was becoming interested in glaciers. Edward Forbes wrote from Edinburgh: "You have made all the geologists glacier-mad here, and they are turning Great Britain into an ice-house." Darwin was deeply interested. He wrote from North Wales: "The valley about here and the site of the inn at which I am now writing must once have been covered by at least eight hundred or one thousand feet in thickness of solid ice! Eleven years ago I spent a whole day in the valley where yesterday everything but the ice of the glaciers was palpably clear to me, and I then saw nothing but plain water and bare rock."

Agassiz now began work on his "Nomenclator Zooelogicus," and his "Bibliographia Zooelogiae et Geologiae," the former comprising "an enumeration of all the genera of the animal kingdom, with the etymology of their names, the names of those who had first proposed them, and the date of their publication." The latter contained a list of all the authors named in the Nomenclator, with notices of their works. This was published by the Royal Society in England, in 1848, the expense being too great for one person.

In 1843 the "Fossil Fishes," in five large volumes, was completed, and the following year his "Monograph on the Fossil Fishes of the Old Red Sandstone, or the Devonian System of Great Britain and Russia," was published, a large volume accompanied by forty-one plates. The discovery of these fossils was due to Hugh Miller, whose interesting life and pathetic death will always be associated with the study of the Old Red Sandstone.

In the spring of 1846, a great change took place in the life of the overworked naturalist. He had long hoped to visit the United States for scientific investigation, and now the time had come. The King of Prussia, at the request of Humboldt, granted him fifteen thousand francs for this purpose--he had previously given Agassiz one thousand dollars for his glacial researches.... Leaving his wife and daughters with Alexander Braun, her brother, at Carlsruhe, and his son Alexander at school at Neuchatel, Agassiz said good-by to his students, who came at two o'clock at night, in procession with torchlights. Going to Paris, he spent some time in bringing out his second work upon the glaciers, "Systeme Glaciaire," receiving the Monthyon Prize of Physiology from the Academy, and sailed for America in September, 1846.

Humboldt wrote him from Sans-Souci: "Be happy in this new undertaking, and preserve for me the first place under the head of friendship in your heart. When you return, I shall be here no more, but the king and queen will receive you on this historic hill with the affection which, for so many reasons, you merit. Your illegible but much attached friend."

Sir Charles Lyell, of England, who had given a successful course of lectures before the Lowell Institute, Boston, arranged a similar course with Mr. Lowell for his friend Agassiz. Perhaps money has never been given more wisely in our country than by the refined John Lowell, Jr., of Boston, who, dying in a foreign country at thirty-seven, bereft of wife and children, left a quarter of a million dollars to "provide for regular courses of _free_ public lectures upon the most important branches of natural and moral science, to be annually delivered in the city of Boston." None of the bequest could be used for buildings, and ten per cent. of the accumulation of the fund was to be set aside annually to continue it. Since December 1, 1839, from six to ten courses have been given yearly to large audiences, by some of the most distinguished persons in Europe and America.

"Natural and moral science!" How broad the subject, and how incalculable the benefit to any city, great or small! What a means for the best general education; what an uplifting of the whole mental and social life of a community!

Agassiz came to Boston and gave twelve lectures on the "Plan of the Creation, especially in the Animal Kingdom." His speech had a foreign accent; but his enthusiastic love of his subject, his skill in drawing on the blackboard, and his eloquent but simple language soon won all hearts.

He was as pleased with the Americans as they were with him. He wrote to his beloved mother (his father had died ten years before): "I can only say that the educated Americans are very accessible and very pleasant. They are obliging to the utmost degree; indeed, their cordiality toward strangers exceeds any that I have met elsewhere.... The liberality of the American naturalists toward me is unparalleled.... The government (of the State of New York) has just completed the publication of a work unique of its kind, a natural history of the State in sixteen volumes, quarto, with plates. Twenty-five hundred copies have been printed, only five hundred of which are for sale, the rest being distributed throughout the State. Four volumes are devoted to geology and mining alone; the others, to zooelogy, botany, and agriculture. Yes, twenty-five hundred copies of a work in sixteen volumes, quarto, scattered throughout the State of New York alone!

"When I think that I began my studies in natural history by copying hundreds of pages from a Lamarck which some one had lent me, and that to-day there is a state in which the smallest farmer may have access to a costly work, worth a library to him in itself, I bless the efforts of those who devote themselves to public instruction."

Agassiz was at once asked to give a second course before the Lowell Institute, on glaciers. This, like the first, was greatly enjoyed by the two thousand or more persons present. Invitations now came from other cities, but he said, "I will limit myself to what I need in order to repay those who have helped me through a difficult crisis.... Beyond that all must go again to science,--there lies my true mission."

He passed his fortieth birthday, May 28, 1847, with Dr. B. E. Cotting, curator of the Lowell Institute, at whose home he had stayed through some weeks of illness. His host, seeing him standing thoughtfully at the window, said, "Why so sad?"

"That I am so old and have done so little," was the reply.

In the summer of 1847, Agassiz rented a small house in East Boston, sufficiently near to the ocean to study marine animals. He also gave lectures in New York, Philadelphia, Albany, and other eastern cities.

The next spring, the Lawrence Scientific School was organized at Cambridge, in connection with Harvard University, and Agassiz was offered the chair of Natural History (zooelogy and geology), with a salary of fifteen hundred dollars. The school owed its existence to Abbott Lawrence, formerly our minister to England.

Agassiz accepted the position, and opened his first course in April, 1848. Here he found congenial friends, Longfellow, Lowell, Prescott, Motley, Gray, Holmes, and others. M. Christinot, who had so generously helped to send him to Paris years before, came to the Cambridge home and was put in charge of it. "If your old friend," he said, "can live with his son Louis, it will be the height of his happiness."

The small plot of ground about the house became a zooelogical garden, with its tank for turtles and an alligator, its cage for eagles, a tame bear, and a family of opossums. Agassiz had already begun his Museum of Comparative Zooelogy, on the banks of the Charles River, in an old shanty. The outlook was hopeful; but he was sad at heart, for Cecile, his wife, had died since he came to America, and his children seemed too young to bring into a home where there was no mother.

In the summer of 1848, Agassiz organized an expedition of students and naturalists for the examination of the eastern and northern shores of Lake Superior. At Niagara, he saw for the first time a living garpike, the only representative among modern fishes of the fossil type of Lepidosteus. He made a careful study of the fauna and geology of the lake, and the results were published in a book. Charles Darwin wrote, "I have seldom been more deeply gratified than by receiving your most kind present of 'Lake Superior.' ... I had heard of it, and had much wished to read it, but I confess it was the very great honor of having in my possession a work with your autograph as a presentation copy that has given me such lively and sincere pleasure."

Agassiz had published another book in America, in 1848, "Principles of Zooelogy," which had a large sale, and was much used in schools. In 1849, his only son, fifteen years old, came to live with his father. The following year, 1850, Agassiz married Elizabeth Cabot Gary, of Boston, a cultivated and lovely woman. His daughters, much younger than their brother, arrived from Europe the same year. M. Christinot, though urged to remain, now preferred to find another home, settled in New Orleans as pastor, and later died in Switzerland.

The winter of 1851 was spent in the examination of the Florida reefs and keys, a work undertaken at the request of Prof. A. D. Bache, at the head of the United States Coast Survey. The results were valuable in showing "how far the soil now building up from accumulations of mud and coral debris was likely to remain for a long time shifting and uncertain, and how far and in what localities it might be relied upon as affording a stable foundation," for building lighthouses, etc. Agassiz brought back for his museum a fine collection of corals, of all varieties and in all stages of growth, with drawings made on the spot, from the living animals.

This year he accepted a professorship at the medical college in Charleston, S. C., lecturing during the three winter months, between his autumn and spring courses at Cambridge. The overwork finally resulted in a dangerous illness, and he was obliged to discontinue it in 1853. The year previous he received the Prix Cuvier for his "Fossil Fishes." His fond mother wrote: "This has given me such happiness, dear Louis, that the tears are in my eyes as I write it to you."

He now issued a circular asking for collections of fishes from various fresh-water systems of the United States, and responses came from every direction. New England captains, when they started on a cruise, took out cans, furnished by Agassiz, for collections in distant ports. Fishermen and farmers, indeed all classes, heartily joined in cooeperating with the man who had said in the University at Munich, "I will be a leader of others," and he had reached the mark which he set for himself. In 1854 he was urged to accept a professorship in the recently established University of Zurich, Switzerland; but he declined, for he had one definite aim in America, to found a great museum, where the best methods of study could be adopted. He said in his "Fossil Fishes": "Possessing no fossil fishes myself, and renouncing forever the acquisition of collections so precious, I have been forced to seek the materials for my work in all the collections of Europe containing such remains; I have, therefore, made frequent journeys in Germany, in France, and in England, in order to examine, describe, and illustrate the objects of my researches; but, notwithstanding the cordiality with which even the most precious specimens have been placed at my disposition, a serious inconvenience has resulted from this mode of working, namely, that I have rarely been able to compare directly the various specimens of the same species from different collections, and that I have often been obliged to make my identification from memory, or from simple notes, or, in the more fortunate cases, from my drawings only. It is impossible to imagine the fatigue, the exhaustion of all the faculties, involved in such a method." He hoped to found a museum where students should have specimens for work, ready for their use.

In the winter of 1855, Agassiz, resumed his public lectures, as his salary of fifteen hundred was insufficient to support his family, but when the spring came he found himself exhausted by the extra work.

And now his noble wife thought out a plan to aid him. She opened a school in their house, for young ladies. Agassiz's surprise and pleasure knew no bounds when he was informed of the project. He immediately took charge of the classes in physical geography, natural history, and botany, giving a lecture daily on one or other of these subjects. The school, with sixty or seventy girls, was continued for eight years, Agassiz having the cooeperation of his brother-in-law, Professor Felton, the noted Greek scholar, and other distinguished men. This school was a blessing in more ways than one. All these years, the debts incurred by the publication of the "Fossil Fishes," and the glacial investigations, had burdened him. The wonder was that the genial, untiring worker could labor at all under this depressing load. Noble devotees to science! What have they not suffered to advance the cause of knowledge! We sit by our pleasant firesides and read what others have wrought for us, perhaps in want and sorrow of soul, and we forget to be grateful or to help lift burdens.

This school opened by the helpful wife made Agassiz a free man--no longer shackled by that worst form of slavery, debt. Well said John Ruskin: "My first word to all men and boys who care to hear me is, don't get into debt. Starve and go to heaven, but don't borrow.... Don't buy things you can't pay for!"

Indefatigable, versatile, comprehensive in mind, Agassiz at once planned another great work, to be published in ten volumes, though it was finally reduced to four: "Contributions to the Natural History of the United States." Mr. Francis C. Gray of Boston, a personal friend and a lover of letters and science, set the subscription before the public. Very soon, to Agassiz's great delight, he received the names of seventeen hundred subscribers, at twelve dollars a volume.

He had now reached his fiftieth birthday, completing his first volume of the new work on that day. His students serenaded him, and Longfellow wrote, to be read at the "Saturday Club," composed of Hawthorne, Holmes, Lowell, Dana, and others, this exquisite poem:--

It was fifty years ago,
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,
A child in its cradle lay.

And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: "Here is a story-book
Thy Father has written for thee."

"Come wander with me," she said,
"Into regions yet untrod,
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God."

And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day
The rhymes of the universe.

And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvellous tale.

So she keeps him still a child,
And will not let him go,
Though at times his heart beats wild
For the beautiful Pays de Vaud;

Though at times he hears in his dreams
The Ranz des Vaches of old,
And the rush of mountain streams
From glaciers clear and cold;

And the mother at home says, "Hark!
For his voice I listen and yearn;
It is growing late and dark,
And my boy does not return!"

This year, 1857, Agassiz received an unexpected honor--a call to one of the most coveted places at the Jardin des Plantes; the chair of palaeontology in the Museum of Natural History, Paris. Though obliged to refuse it because he considered his life-work to be in America, he appreciated the favor as also the bestowal of the Order of the Legion of Honor, and the Copley medal from England. Twenty-seven years before, he had received in Paris the aid of Humboldt in his destitution; now, two hemispheres competed for his services.

The following year, 1858, Mr. Francis C. Gray died, leaving fifty thousand dollars for the establishment of a Museum of Comparative Zooelogy, to be used neither for buildings nor for salaries, but purely for scientific needs.

"All things come round to him who will but wait," says Longfellow, in the "Falcon of Sir Federigo." Other gifts soon followed. Harvard University gave land for the site of the building. The Massachusetts Legislature gave lands to the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. Over seventy-one thousand was promptly subscribed by citizens of Boston and Cambridge. Agassiz contributed all his collections, worth thousands of dollars. The corner-stone of the museum was laid one sunny afternoon in June, 1859, and then the happy Agassiz hastened across the ocean, to rejoice with his mother, in her home near the foot of the Jura. She was glad and proud now that he had become a naturalist.

The museum was dedicated November 13, 1860. The plan included a main building 364 feet long, with wings 205 long, the whole enclosing a hollow square. The lecture rooms were at once opened. Especially welcome were teachers of schools, for whom admittance was free. His lectures were open to women as well as to men. This would naturally be expected, from the broad-mindedness of the man, and the respect he must have had for the capacity of woman, from such a mother and such a wife. "He had great sympathy," says Mrs. Agassiz, "with the desire of women for larger and more various fields of study and work." To such men women can never be too grateful.

In 1863, he helped to organize the National Academy of Sciences. He frequently gave lectures in the large cities, using the money for the further development of the museum.

In 1865 he started, with his wife and several assistants, for sixteen months of scientific investigation in Brazil, the expenses borne by his friend, Mr. Nathaniel Thayer, of Boston. He writes to his mother,--

"All those who know me seem to have combined to heighten the
attraction of the journey, and facilitate it in every respect.
The Pacific Mail Steamship Company have invited me to take
passage with my whole party on their fine steamer, the Colorado.
They will take us, free of all expense, as far as Rio de
Janeiro,--an economy of fifteen thousand francs at the start....
I seem like the spoiled child of the country, and I hope God will
give me strength to repay, in devotion to her institutions and to
her scientific and intellectual development, all that her
citizens have done for me....

With all my heart,
"Your LOUIS."

The story of this expedition has been told, chiefly by Mrs. Agassiz, in that most interesting volume, "A Journey in Brazil."

On Agassiz's return, he gave a course of lectures before the Lowell Institute, and the Cooper Institute, New York, spending the summer at his pleasant seaside home and laboratory at Nahant.

The fisherman at Nahant would pull two or three miles to bring him a rare fish; and only for the pleasure of seeing him rush out of his little laboratory, crying: "Oh! where _did_ you get that? That is a species which goes as far as Brazil. Nobody has ever seen it north of Cape Cod. Come in, come in, and sit down!"

In 1868, Agassiz, invited by Mr. Samuel Hooper, joined a party of friends in an excursion to the Rocky Mountains. This year he was appointed non-resident professor at Cornell University, Ithaca, New York.

The Massachusetts Legislature now gave seventy-five thousand dollars, and private individuals an equal sum, to provide for the new collections at the museum. Later, the museum received from the Legislature twenty-five thousand more, and a birthday gift to Agassiz, of one hundred thousand dollars, was also used by him for his precious work. September 15, 1869, at the Humboldt Centennial Celebration, Agassiz delivered an eloquent address before the Boston Society of Natural History, and the "Humboldt Scholarship" was founded at the museum. The bread cast upon the waters by Humboldt had been found after many days.

Agassiz was now completely prostrated by overwork, and told by his physician that for the several months in which he remained shut up in his room he must not think. Yet he could not banish one subject from his thoughts, and, with tears in his eyes, he would sometimes exclaim,--"Oh, my museum! my museum! always uppermost, by day and by night, in health and in sickness, always--_always_!"

The great mind rallied for one more voyage of research in his beloved science. In the coast-survey steamer Hassler, with his wife and friends, he sailed December 4, 1871, around Cape Horn, landing at several places along the coast, gathering rich treasures from deep-sea dredgings, entering the Golden Gate August 24, 1872.

In October, Agassiz returned to Cambridge. Through the gift of Mr. John Anderson, a wealthy New York merchant, of the island of Penikese, in Buzzard's Bay, with its buildings and an endowment of fifty thousand dollars, a summer school of natural history was at once opened. This year was a very busy one. A series of articles were in preparation for the "Atlantic Monthly," in opposition to the views of Darwin on evolution. He had already published two successful books, "Methods of Study in Natural History," and "Geological Sketches." December 2, 1873, a lecture was given at Fitchburg, before a meeting of the Massachusetts Board of Agriculture. The next day Agassiz spoke of dimness of sight, and of feeling "strangely asleep," and on December 14 he was asleep in death.

He was buried from the college chapel, the students who loved him laying a wreath of laurel upon the bier, and singing his requiem. The noble mother, fortunately, had died six years before him.

They buried him at Mount Auburn. From the glacier of the Aar, not far from the spot where his little hut once stood, they brought a boulder for his monument, and from his old home in Switzerland, pine trees to grow beside his grave. He loved both countries, and both have shared in his sacred resting-place.

His work will never cease. His museum at Cambridge now has seventy-one rooms and twelve galleries, with invested funds of over five hundred and eighty thousand dollars, while the buildings and collections are valued at about seven hundred thousand dollars. It is now under the charge of Prof. Alexander Agassiz, the son of Louis, and to his constant generosity and devotion the museum is deeply indebted.

Agassiz said, "My hope is that there shall arise upon the grounds of Harvard a museum of natural history which shall compete with the British Museum and with the Jardin des Plantes. Do not say it cannot be done, for you cannot suppose that what exists in England and France cannot be reached in America. I hope even that we shall found a museum which will be based upon a more suitable foundation, and better qualified to advance the highest interests of science than these institutions of the old world."

Agassiz not only wrote books and built museums. He gave to the world a high ideal of a seeker after truth. He stimulated the intellectual activity of two continents, and blessed both of them by his own brilliant mind and his noble character.

CHARLES ROBERT DARWIN.

On Wednesday, April 26, 1882, sitting in the North Transept of Westminster Abbey, I looked upon a sad and impressive scene. Under the dome stood an oaken coffin, quite covered with white wreaths; close by were seated the distinguished pall-bearers, Sir John Lubbock, Canon Farrar, the Duke of Argyle, Thomas H. Huxley, James Russell Lowell, and others. Representatives of many nations were present; the great scientists of France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and Russia.

Of the thousands who were gathered to honor the famous dead, every person wore black, as requested on the cards of admission to the abbey. Perhaps never in the history of England have so many noted men been assembled on an occasion like this. As the choir, in their white robes, stood about the open grave, singing the "Dead March from Saul," the strains seemed to come from a far-off country, producing an effect never to be forgotten. Darwin lies buried close to the graves of Sir Isaac Newton and Sir John Herschel.

At Shrewsbury, England, February 12, 1809, Charles Robert Darwin was born, in a square, red-brick house at the top of a terraced bank leading down to the Severn. The greenhouse with its varied plants, the ornamental shrubs and trees in the grounds, became a delight as soon as the boy was old enough to observe them.

The mother, Susannah, the daughter of Josiah Wedgwood of Etruria, a woman with a sweet and happy face, died when Charles was eight years old, leaving five other children; Marianne, Caroline, Erasmus, Susan, and Catherine. Charles says of her in his autobiography, "It is odd that I can remember hardly anything about her except her death-bed, her black velvet gown, and her curiously constructed work-table." She evidently encouraged the boy's love for flowers, for he used to say, at school, that his mother had taught him "how, by looking at the inside of the blossom, the name of the plant could be discovered."

The father, Robert Waring Darwin, was a well known physician, a man of fine physique and courtly manner, who had amassed wealth by his skill and business ability. Charles's admiration of him was unbounded: "the wisest man I ever knew," he used often to say.

"His chief mental characteristics," said Darwin, "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 ten thousand 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."

Charles went to the day-school in Shrewsbury, when he was eight years old. "By the time I went to this day-school," he says, "my taste for natural history, and more especially for collecting, was well developed. I tried to make out the names of plants, and collected all sorts of things, shells, seals, franks, coins, and minerals. The passion for collecting, which leads a man to be a systematic naturalist, a virtuoso, or a miser, was very strong in me, and was clearly innate, as none of my sisters or brothers ever had this taste....

"I must have been a very simple little fellow when I first went to the school. A boy of the name of Garnett took me into a cake-shop one day, and bought some cakes, for which he did not pay, as the shopman trusted him. When he came out I asked him why he did not pay for them, and he instantly answered, 'Why, do you not know that my uncle left a great sum of money to the town on condition that every tradesman should give whatever was wanted without payment to any one who wore his old hat and moved it in a particular manner?' and he then showed me how it was moved. He then went into another shop where he was trusted, and asked for some small article, moving his hat in the proper manner, and of course obtained it without payment.

"When we came out, he said: 'Now, if you like to go by yourself into that cake-shop (how well I remember its exact position) I will lend you my hat, and you can get whatever you like if you move the hat on your head properly.' I gladly accepted the generous offer, and went in and asked for some cakes, moved the old hat and was walking out of the shop when the shopman made a rush at me, so I dropped the cakes and ran for dear life, and was astonished by being greeted with shouts of laughter by my false friend Garnett.

"In the summer of 1818, I went to Dr. Butler's great school in Shrewsbury, and remained there for seven years, till midsummer, 1825, when I was sixteen years old. I boarded at this school, so that I had the great advantage of living the life of a true schoolboy; but as the distance was hardly more than a mile to my home, I very often ran there in the longer intervals between the callings over, and before locking up at night. This, I think, was in many ways advantageous to me, by keeping up home affections and interests. I remember, in the early part of my school life, that I often had to run very quickly to be in time, and, from being a fleet runner, was generally successful; but when in doubt I prayed earnestly to God to help me, and I well remember that I attributed 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 very young boy, a strong taste for long, solitary walks; but what I thought about I know not. I often became quite absorbed, and once, whilst returning to school on the summit of the old fortifications round Shrewsbury, which had been converted into a public footpath with no parapet on one side, I walked off and fell to the ground, but the height was only seven or eight feet. Nevertheless, the number of thoughts which passed through my mind during this very short but sudden and wholly unexpected fall was astonishing, and seem hardly compatible with what physiologists have, I believe, proved about each thought requiring quite an appreciable amount of time."

As Dr. Butler's school was strictly classical, Darwin always felt that, for him, these years were nearly wasted. He read many authors, Shakspeare, Thomson's Seasons, Byron, and Scott, but later in life, he says, lost all taste for poetry. This he greatly regretted, and said, if he were to live his life over, he would read some poetry every day. The book that most influenced him was the "Wonders of the World," which gave him a desire to travel, which was finally realized in the voyage of the Beagle. He did not forget his zest in collecting, at first, however, taking only such insects as he found dead, for, after consulting his sister, he "concluded that it was not right to kill insects for the sake of making a collection. From reading White's 'Selborne,' I took much pleasure in watching the habits of birds, and even made notes on the subject. In my simplicity, I remember wondering why every gentleman did not become an ornithologist.

"Towards the close of my school-life, my brother worked hard at chemistry, and made a fair laboratory, with proper apparatus, in the tool-house in the garden, and I was allowed to aid him as a servant in most of his experiments. He made all the gases and many compounds, and I read with great care several books on chemistry, such as Henry and Parkes' 'Chemical Catechism.' The subject interested me greatly, and we often used to go on working till rather late at night. This was the best part of my education at school, for it showed me practically the meaning of experimental science. The fact that we worked at chemistry somehow got known at school, and, as it was an unprecedented fact, I was nicknamed 'Gas.'...

"When I left the school, I was for my age neither high nor low in it, and I believe that I was considered by all my masters and by my father as a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard in intellect. To my deep mortification, my father once said to me: 'You care for nothing but shooting, dogs, and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace to yourself and all your family.' But my father, who was the kindest man I ever knew, and whose memory I love with all my heart, must have been angry and somewhat unjust when he used such words."

Dr. Darwin now sent his two boys, Erasmus and Charles, to Edinburgh University. Here, Charles found the lectures "intolerably dull," all except those on chemistry by Hope. His father, evidently not being able to determine for what his son was best fitted in life, suggested his being a doctor. The youth attended the clinical wards in the hospital, but one day witnessing two operations, one upon a child, he rushed away. He says, "Nor did I attend again, for hardly any inducement would have been strong enough to make me do so; this being long before the blessed days of chloroform. The two cases fairly haunted me for many a long year."

While in Edinburgh, Charles became deeply interested in marine zooelogy, and read a paper before the Plinian Society, an association organized for the study of natural history. He also attended the meetings of the Wernerian Society, where he heard Audubon deliver some interesting lectures upon the habits of North American birds, and the Royal Society, where he saw Sir Walter Scott in the chair as president.

"I looked at him and at the whole scene," says Darwin, "with some awe and reverence, and I think it was owing to this visit during my youth, and to my having attended the Royal Medical Society, that I felt the honor of being elected, a few years ago, an honorary member of both these societies more than any other similar honor. If I had been told at that time that I should one day have been thus honored, I declare that I should have thought it as ridiculous and improbable as if I had been told that I should be elected King of England."

During this time, Charles met Sir James Mackintosh, "the best converser," he says, "I ever listened to. I heard afterwards, with a glow of pride, that he had said, 'There is something in that young man that interests me.'... 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 right course."

After two years at Edinburgh, Dr. Darwin, seeing that Charles probably would never become a physician, sent him to Cambridge University, that he might prepare for the Episcopal ministry.

Of this time he says, "The three years which I spent at Cambridge were wasted, as far as the academical studies were concerned, as completely as at Edinburgh and at school. I attempted mathematics, and even went during the summer of 1828 with a private tutor (a very dull man) to Barmouth, but I got on very slowly. The work was repugnant to me, chiefly from my not being able to see any meaning in the early steps in algebra." He found great delight in Paley's "Evidences of Christianity," and his "Moral Philosophy."

At Cambridge, like Humboldt, he formed a rare friendship, which helped towards his subsequent success. Professor Henslow was an ardent scholar, a devoted Christian, and a man of most winning manners and good temper. From his great knowledge of botany, entomology, chemistry, mineralogy, and geology, he became a most attractive person to young Darwin, whose especial passion seemed to be the collecting of beetles. Henslow soon became equally fond of Darwin, and the two took long walks together daily, Darwin being known as "the man who walks with Henslow."

Darwin said of this model teacher, years afterward, "He had a remarkable power of making the young feel completely at ease with him; though we were all awe-struck with the amount of his knowledge. Before I saw him, I heard one young man sum up his attainments by simply saying that he knew everything. When I reflect how immediately we felt at ease with a man older, and in every way immensely our superior, I think it was as much owing to the transparent sincerity of his character as to his kindness of heart, and, perhaps, even still more to a highly remarkable absence in him of all self-consciousness. One perceived at once that he never thought of his own varied knowledge or clear intellect, but solely on the subject in hand.

"Another charm which must have struck every one was that his manner to old and distinguished persons and to the youngest student was exactly the same; and to all he showed the same winning courtesy. He would receive with interest the most trifling observation in any branch of natural history, and, however absurd a blunder one might make, he pointed it out so clearly and kindly that one left him no way disheartened, but only determined to be more accurate the next time.

"His lectures on botany were universally popular, and as clear as daylight. So popular were they that several of the older members of the University attended successive courses. Once every week he kept open house in the evening, and all who cared for natural history attended these parties, which, by thus favoring intercommunication, did the same good in Cambridge, in a very pleasant manner, as the scientific societies do in London.... This was no small advantage to some of the young men, as it stimulated their mental activity and ambition....

"During the years when I associated so much with Professor Henslow, I never once saw his temper even ruffled. He never took an ill-natured view of any one's character, though very far from blind to the foibles of others. It always struck me that his mind could not be even touched by any paltry feeling of vanity, envy, or jealousy. With all this equability of temper and remarkable benevolence, there was no insipidity of character. A man must have been blind not to have perceived that beneath this placid exterior there was a vigorous and determined will. When principles came into play, no power on earth could have turned him one hair's breadth....

"Reflecting over his character with gratitude and reverence, his moral attributes rise, as they should do in the highest character, in preeminence over his intellect."

Through this noble friend, Darwin had the opportunity of taking a five years' voyage in the ship Beagle, as a naturalist. The bark, of two hundred and thirty-five tons, under command of Captain Fitz-Roy, was commissioned by government to survey Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego, the shores of Chili, Peru, and some islands in the Pacific, "and to carry a chain of chronometrical measurements round the world."

Professor Henslow knew the captain, and recommended his young friend for the position. Darwin had read Humboldt's travels eagerly, and was delighted with the prospect of a journey like this.

Dr. Darwin was opposed at first, but finally said, "If you can find any man of common sense who advises you to go, I will give my consent." Young Darwin at once visited his uncle, Josiah Wedgwood, at Maer, who approved of the journey, and soon convinced Dr. Darwin of the wisdom of it.

The vessel sailed December 27, 1831. Though for a young man of an extremely affectionate nature the separation from family was painful, yet it was a glad day for Darwin. He had looked forward eagerly to it, saying, "My second life will then commence, and it shall be as a birthday for the rest of my life," and so it proved. He said, years afterward, "The voyage of the Beagle has been by far the most important event in my life, and has determined my whole career."

These years were busy, earnest ones, devoted to constant labor. To his father he wrote from Bahia, or San Salvador, the following spring: "No person could imagine anything so beautiful as the ancient town of Bahia; it is fairly embosomed in a luxuriant wood of beautiful trees, and situated on a steep bank, and overlooks the calm waters of the great Bay of All Saints. The houses are white and lofty, and, from the windows being narrow and long, have a very light and elegant appearance.... But the exquisite, glorious pleasure of walking amongst such flowers and such trees cannot be comprehended but by those who have experienced it.... I will not rapturize again, but I give myself great credit in not being crazy out of pure delight. Give my love to every soul at home.... I think one's affections, like other good things, flourish and increase in these tropical regions."

Again he writes from Rio de Janeiro: "Here (at Rio-Macoa) I first saw a tropical forest in all its sublime grandeur--nothing but the reality can give any idea how wonderful, how magnificent the scene is.... I never experienced such intense delight. I formerly admired Humboldt, I now almost adore him; he alone gives any notion of the feelings which are raised in the mind on first entering the Tropics. I am now collecting fresh-water and land animals.... I am at present red-hot with spiders; they are very interesting, and, if I am not mistaken, I have already taken some new genera." Busy as he was, he was ever thinking of home, and anxious to receive letters. When they were received, he almost "cried for pleasure."

He writes to his sister: "If you knew the glowing, unspeakable delight which I felt at being certain that my father and all of you were well, only four months ago, you would not grudge the labor lost in keeping up the regular series of letters."

Later he writes: "It is too delightful to think that I shall see the leaves fall and hear the robin sing next autumn at Shrewsbury. My feelings are those of a schoolboy to the smallest point; I doubt whether ever boy longed for his holidays as much as I do to see you all again."

To his "dear Henslow" he writes: "It is now some months since we have been at a civilized port; nearly all this time has been spent in the most southern part of Tierra del Fuego.... The Fuegians are in a more miserable state of barbarism than I had expected ever to have seen a human being. In this inclement country they are absolutely naked, and their temporary houses are like what children make in summer with boughs of trees."

Captain Fitz-Roy, on a previous voyage, had carried several natives to England, and now brought them again to their own land. "They had become," says Darwin, "entirely European in their habits and wishes, so much so that the younger one had forgotten his own language, and their countrymen paid but very little attention to them. We built houses for them, and planted gardens, but by the time we return again on our passage round the Horn, I think it will be very doubtful how much of their property will be left unstolen."

At the Cape of Good Hope, Darwin met and dined with Sir John Herschel. For some time he lived at St. Helena, "within a stone's throw of Napoleon's tomb." He became so deeply interested in his geological investigations in South America, that he wrote his sister Susan: "I literally could hardly sleep at nights for thinking over my day's work. The scenery was so new, and so majestic; everything at an elevation of twelve thousand feet bears so different an aspect from that in a lower country."

To another sister he wrote: "I trust and believe that the time spent in this voyage, if thrown away for all other respects, will produce its full worth in Natural History; and it appears to me the doing what _little_ we can to increase the general stock of knowledge is as respectable an object of life as one can in any likelihood pursue.... What fine opportunities for geology and for studying the infinite host of living beings! Is not this a prospect to keep up the most flagging spirit? If I was to throw it away, I don't think I should ever rest quiet in my grave."

Darwin says: "As far as I can judge of myself, I worked to the utmost during the voyage, from the mere pleasure of investigation, and from my strong desire to add a few facts to the great mass of facts in natural science. But I was also ambitious to take a fair place among scientific men." In studying the geology of St. Jago, "It then first dawned on me that I might perhaps write a book on the geology of the various countries visited, and this made me thrill with delight. That was a memorable hour to me, and how distinctly I can call to mind the low cliff of lava beneath which I rested, with the sun glaring hot, a few strange desert plants growing near, and with living corals in the tidal pools at my feet. Later in the voyage, Fitz-Roy asked me to read some of my journal, and declared it would be worth publishing, so here was a second book in prospect!"

Darwin, stirred by the right kind of ambition, had found his life-work. It would not be in the church, as his father had fondly hoped, but the world would be his audience.

On October 5, 1836, Darwin arrived at Shrewsbury, after five years' absence. He left home a high-spirited, warm-hearted youth, fond of athletic sports, and vigorous in body. He came back with a passionate love for science, "with the habit of energetic industry and of concentrated attention," but with health impaired, which made the whole of his after life a battle with suffering. Yet he conquered, and gave to his generation a wonderful example of the power of mind over body; of victory over obstacles.

During the voyage he was an almost constant sufferer from sea-sickness. He wrote home the last year: "It is a lucky thing for me that the voyage is drawing to its close, for I positively suffer more from sea-sickness now than three years ago."

"After perhaps an hour's work," says Admiral Stokes, "he would say to me, 'Old fellow, I must take the horizontal for it,' that being the best relief position from ship motion. A stretch out on one side of the table for some time would enable him to resume his labors for a while, when he had again to lie down. It was distressing to witness this early sacrifice of Mr. Darwin's health, who ever afterwards seriously felt the ill effects of the Beagle's voyage."

Admiral Mellersh says: "I think he was the only man I ever knew against whom I never heard a word said; and as people, when shut up in a ship for five years, are apt to get cross with each other, that is saying a good deal." Says another: "He was never known to be out of temper, or to say one unkind or hasty word _of_ or _to_ any one."

This lovely spirit, which so endeared him to everybody, Darwin kept through life,--a spirit which sheds a halo around every book he wrote, and makes him worthy the admiration and honor of every young man. Many persons have the gift of writing books, but comparatively few persons have the great gift of self-control.

After a brief visit with his family, Darwin hastened to Cambridge, to prepare his "Journal of Travels." He had learned on the Beagle that "a man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life." After three months of hard work, he went to London, where he finished the "Journal," and began working on his "Zooelogy of the Voyage of the Beagle," and his "Geological Observations." He said at this time: "I have nothing to wish for, excepting stronger health to go on with the subjects to which I have joyfully determined to devote my life."

For three years and eight months he worked untiringly. He wrote Henslow: "I fear the Geology will take me a great deal of time; I was looking over one set of notes, and the quantity I found I had to read for that one place was frightful. If I live till I am eighty years old I shall not cease to marvel at finding myself an author. In the summer before I started, if any one had told me that I should have been an angel by this time, I should have thought it an equal impossibility. This marvellous transformation is all owing to you."

Darwin and Lyell now became very intimate friends. "I am coming into your way, of only working about two hours at a spell," he writes to Lyell; "I then go out and do my business in the streets, return and set to work again, and thus make two separate days out of one." Of Lyell he said: "One of his chief characteristics was his sympathy with the work of others.... The science of geology is enormously indebted to Lyell--more so, as I believe, than to any other man who ever lived."

The "Journal" was published in 1839. January twenty-nine of this year, Mr. Darwin, now thirty years of age, was married to his cousin, Emma Wedgwood, daughter of Josiah Wedgwood of Maer, and granddaughter of the founder of the potteries of Etruria. The extreme happiness of his married life proved the wisdom of his choice. He said in after years, "No one can be too kind to my dear wife, who is worth her weight in gold many times over."

They lived at No. 12 Upper Gower Street, as he wrote a college mate, "a life of extreme quietness.... We have given up all parties, for they agree with neither of us; and if one is quiet in London, there is nothing like its quietness."

In 1842, his "Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs" was published, a book which cost him, he says, "twenty months of hard work, as I had to read every work on the islands of the Pacific, and to consult many charts." Of this book, Professor Geikie says: "This well known treatise, the most original of all its author's geological memoirs, has become one of the classics of geological literature. The origin of those remarkable rings of coral-rock in mid-ocean has given rise to much speculation, but no satisfactory solution of the problem has been proposed. After visiting many of them, and examining also coral reefs that fringe islands and continents, he offered a theory which, for simplicity and grandeur, strikes every reader with astonishment.... No more admirable example of scientific method was ever given to the world, and, even if he had written nothing else, this treatise alone would have placed Darwin in the very front of investigators of nature."