Chapter X: SIR GEORGE DARWIN {152a}

George Howard, the fifth {152b} child of Charles and Emma Darwin, was born at Down, July 9th, 1845. Why he was christened {152c} George, I cannot say. It was one of the facts on which we founded a theory that our parents lost their presence of mind at the font, and gave us names for which there was neither the excuse of tradition nor of preference on their own part. His second name, however, commemorates his great-grandmother, Mary Howard, the first wife of Erasmus Darwin. It seems possible that George's ill-health and that of his father were inherited from the Howards. This, at any rate, was Francis Galton's view, who held that his own excellent health was a heritage from Erasmus Darwin's second wife. George's second name, Howard, has a certain appropriateness in his case, for he was the genealogist and herald of our family, and it is through Mary Howard that the Darwins can, by an excessively devious route, claim descent from certain eminent people, _e.g._ John of Gaunt. This is shown in the pedigrees which George wrote out, and in the elaborate genealogical tree published in Professor's Pearson's _Life of Francis Galton_. George's parents had moved to Down in September 1842, and he was born to those quiet surroundings of which Charles Darwin wrote, "My life goes on like clockwork, and I am fixed on the spot where I shall end it." It would have been difficult to find a more retired place so near London. In 1842 a coach drive of some twenty miles was the only means of access to Down; and even now that railways have crept closer to it, it is singularly out of the world, with little to suggest the neighbourhood of London, unless it be the dull haze of smoke that sometimes clouds the sky. In 1842 such a village, communicating with the main lines of traffic only by stony tortuous lanes, may well have been enabled to retain something of its primitive character. Nor is it hard to believe in the smugglers and their strings of pack-horses making their way up from the lawless old villages of the Weald, of which the memory then still lingered. {153}

George retained throughout life his deep love for Down. For the lawn with its bright strip of flowers, and for the row of big lime trees that bordered it; for the two yew trees between which we children had our swing, and for many another characteristic which had become as dear and as familiar to him as a human face. He retained his youthful love of the "Sand-walk," a little wood far enough from the house to have for us a romantic character of its own.

George loved the country round Down, and all its dry chalky valleys of ploughed land, with "shaws," _i.e._ broad straggling hedges on their crests, bordered by strips of flowery turf. The country is traversed by many foot-paths; these George knew well and used skilfully in our walks, in which he was generally the leader. His love for the house and the neighbourhood was, I think, entangled with his deepest feelings. In later years his children came with their parents to Down, and they vividly remember his excited happiness, and how he enjoyed showing them his ancient haunts.

In this retired region Charles Darwin's children led a singularly quiet life, practically without friends, and dependent on their brothers and sisters for companionship. George's earliest recollection was of drumming with his spoon and fork on the nursery table because dinner was late, while a barrel-organ played outside. Other memories were less personal; for instance, the firing of guns when Sebastopol was supposed to have been taken. His diary of 1852 shows a composite interest in current events and in the picturesqueness of Natural History: "The Duke is dead. Dodos are out of the world."

He perhaps carried rather far the good habit of re-reading one's favourite authors. He told his children that for a year or so he read through every day the story of Jack the Giant Killer, in a little chap-book with coloured pictures. He early showed signs of the energy which marked his character in later life. I am glad to remember that I became his companion and willing slave. There was much playing at soldiers, and I have a clear remembrance of our marching with toy guns and knapsacks across the field to the Sand-walk. There we made our bivouac with gingerbread, and milk warmed (and generally smoked) over a "touch-wood" fire. I was a private while George was a sergeant, and it was part of my duty to stand sentry at the far end of the kitchen-garden until released by a bugle-call from the lawn. I have a vague remembrance of presenting my fixed bayonet at my father to ward off a kiss, which seemed to me inconsistent with my military duties. Our imaginary names and heights were written up on the wall of the cloak-room. George, with romantic exactitude, made a small foot rule of such a size that he could conscientiously record his height as 6 feet, and mine as slightly less, in accordance with my age and station.

Under my father's instruction George made spears with weighted heads, which he hurled with remarkable skill by means of an Australian throwing stick. I used to skulk behind the big lime trees on the lawn in the character of victim, and I still remember the look of the spear flying through the air with a certain venomous waggle. Indoors, too, we threw at each other wooden javelins, which we received on beautiful shields made by the village carpenter and decorated with coats of arms.

Heraldry was a serious pursuit of his for many years, and the London Library copies of Guillim and Edmonson {156} were generally at Down. He retained a love of the science through life, and his copy of Percy's _Reliques_ is decorated with coats of arms admirably drawn and painted. In later life he showed a power of neat and accurate draughtsmanship, and some of the illustrations in his father's books, _e.g._ in _Climbing Plants_, are by his hand.

His early education was given by governesses, but the boys of the family used to ride twice or thrice a week to be instructed in Latin by Mr. Reed, the Rector of Hayes--the kindest of teachers. For myself, I chiefly remember the cake we used to have at 11 o'clock, and the occasional diversion of looking at the pictures in the great Dutch Bible. George must have impressed his parents with his solidity and self-reliance, since he was more than once allowed to undertake alone the 20-mile ride to the house of a relative at Hartfield in Sussex. For a boy of ten to bait his pony and order his luncheon at the Edenbridge inn was probably more alarming than the rest of the adventure. There is indeed a touch of David Copperfield in his recollections as preserved in family tradition. The waiter always said, "What will you have for lunch, Sir?" to which he replied, "What is there?" and the waiter said, "Eggs and bacon"; and though he hated bacon more than anything else in the world, he felt obliged to have it.

On August 16th, 1856, George was sent to school. Our elder brother, William, was at Rugby, and his parents felt his long absences from home such an evil that they fixed on the Clapham Grammar School for their younger sons. Besides its nearness to Down, Clapham had the merit of giving more mathematics and science than could then be found in public schools. It was kept by the Rev. Charles Pritchard, {157} a man of strong character, and with a gift for teaching mathematics by which George undoubtedly profited. In, I think, 1861 Pritchard left Clapham and was succeeded by the Rev. Alfred Wrigley, a man of kindly mood but without the force or vigour of Pritchard. As a mathematical instructor I imagine Wrigley was a good drillmaster rather than an inspiring teacher. Under him the place degenerated to some extent; it no longer sent so many boys to the Universities, and became more like a "crammer's" and less like a public school. My own recollections of George at Clapham are coloured by an abiding gratitude for his kindly protection of me as a shrinking and very unhappy "new boy" in 1860.

George records in his diary that in 1863 he tried in vain for a Minor Scholarship at St. John's College, Cambridge, and again failed to get one at Trinity in 1864, though he became a Foundation Scholar in 1866. These facts suggested to me that this capacity as a mathematician was the result of slow growth. I accordingly applied to Lord Moulton, who was kind enough to give me his impressions:

My memories of your brother during his undergraduate career
correspond closely to your suggestion that his mathematical power
developed somewhat slowly and late. Throughout most, if not the
whole, of his undergraduate years he was in the same class as myself
and Christie, the ex-Astronomer Royal, at Routh's. {158a} We all
recognised him as one who was certain of being high in the Tripos,
but he did not display any of that colossal power of work and taking
infinite trouble that characterised him afterwards. On the contrary,
he treated his work rather jauntily. At that time his health was
excellent and he took his studies lightly, so that they did not
interfere with his enjoyment of other things. {158b} I remember that
as the time of the examination came near I used to tell him that he
was unfairly handicapped in being in such robust health and such
excellent spirits.

Even when he had taken his degree I do not think he realised his
innate mathematical power. . . . It has been a standing wonder to me
that he developed the patience for making the laborious numerical
calculations on which so much of his most original work was
necessarily based. He certainly showed no tendency in that direction
during his undergraduate years. Indeed, he told me more than once in
later life that he detested arithmetic, and that these calculations
were as tedious and painful to him as they would have been to any
other man, but that he realised that they must be done, and that it
was impossible to train anyone else to do them.

As a Freshman he 'kept' (_i.e._ lived) in A 6, the staircase at the N.W. corner of the New Court, afterwards moving to F 3 in the Old Court, pleasant rooms entered by a spiral staircase on the south side of the Great Gate. Below him, in the ground floor room, now used as the College offices, lived Mr. Colvill, who remained a faithful but rarely seen friend as long as George lived.

Lord Moulton, who, as we have seen, was a fellow pupil of George's at Routh's, was held even as a Freshman to be an assured Senior Wrangler, a prophecy that he easily made good. The second place was held by George, and was a much more glorious position than he had dared to hope for. In those days the examiners read out the list in the Senate House at an early hour, 8 a.m. I think. George remained in bed and sent me to bring the news. I remember charging out through the crowd the moment the magnificent "Darwin of Trinity" had followed the expected "Moulton of St. John's." I have a general impression of a cheerful crowd sitting on George's bed and literally almost smothering him with congratulations. He received the following characteristic letter from his father: {159}

DOWN, _Jan._ 24_th_ [1868].

My dear old fellow,

I am so pleased. I congratulate you with all my heart and soul. I
always said from your early days that such energy, perseverance and
talent as yours would be sure to succeed: but I never expected such
brilliant success as this. Again and again I congratulate you. But
you have made my hand tremble so I can hardly write. The telegram
came here at eleven. We have written to W. and the boys.

God bless you, my dear old fellow--may your life so continue.

Your affectionate Father,
CH. DARWIN.

In those days the Tripos examination was held in the winter, and the successful candidates got their degrees early in the Lent Term. George records in his diary that he took his B.A. on January 25th, 1868; also that he won the second of the two Smith's Prizes--the first being the natural heritage of the Senior Wrangler. There is little to record in this year. He had a pleasant time in the summer, coaching Clement, the nephew of Sir Charles Bunbury, at his beautiful place Barton Hall in Suffolk. In the autumn he was elected a Fellow of Trinity, as he records, "with Galabin, young Niven, Clifford, [Sir Frederick] Pollock, and [Sir Sidney] Colvin." W. K. Clifford was the well-known brilliant mathematician who died comparatively early.

Chief among his Cambridge friends were the brothers Arthur, Gerald, and Frank Balfour. The last-named was killed, aged 31, in a climbing accident in 1882 on the Aiguille Blanche near Courmayeur. He was remarkable both for his scientific work and for his striking and most lovable personality. George's affection for him never faded. His daughter remembers her father (not long before his death) saying with emotion, "I dreamed Frank Balfour was alive." I imagine that tennis was the means of bringing George into contact with Mr. Arthur Balfour. What began in this chance way grew into an enduring friendship, and George's diary shows how much kindness and hospitality he received from Mr. Balfour. George had also the advantage of knowing Lord Rayleigh at Cambridge, and retained his friendship through his life.

In the spring of 1869 he was in Paris for two months working at French. His teacher used to make him write original compositions, and George gained a reputation for humour by giving French versions of all the old Joe Millers and ancient stories he could remember.

It was his intention to make the Bar his profession, {161} and in October 1869 we find him reading with Mr. Tatham, in 1870 and 1872 with the late Mr. Montague Crackenthorpe (then Cookson), and in November 1871 he was a pupil of Mr. W. G. Harrison. The most valued result of his legal work was the friendship of Mr. and Mrs. Crackenthorpe, which he retained throughout his life. During these years we find the first indications of the circumstances which forced him to give up a legal career--namely, his failing health and his growing inclination towards science. {162} Thus in the summer of 1869, when we were all at Caerdeon in the Barmouth valley, he writes that he "fell ill," and again in the winter of 1871. His health deteriorated markedly during 1872 and 1873. In the former year he went to Malvern and to Homburg without deriving any advantage. I have an impression that he did not expect to survive these attacks, but I cannot say at what date he made this forecast of an early death. In January 1873 he visited Cannes, and "came back very ill." It was in the spring of this year that he first consulted Dr. (afterwards Sir Andrew) Clark, from whom he received the kindest care. George suffered from digestive troubles, sickness, and general discomfort and weakness. Dr. Clark's care probably did what was possible to make life more bearable, and as time went on his health gradually improved. In 1894 he consulted the late Dr. Eccles, and by means of the rest-cure, then something of a novelty, his weight increased from 9 stone to 9 stone 11 pounds. I gain the impression that this treatment produced a permanent improvement, although his health remained a serious handicap throughout his life.

Meanwhile he had determined on giving up the Bar, and settled in October 1873, when he was 28 years old, at Trinity in Nevile's Court next the Library (G 4). His diary continues to contain records of ill-health and of various holidays in search of improvement. Thus in 1873 we read, "Very bad during January. Went to Cannes and stayed till the end of April." Again in 1874, "February to July very ill." In spite of unwellness he began in 1872-3 to write on various subjects. He sent to _Macmillan's Magazine_ {163a} an entertaining article, "Development in Dress," where the survivals in modern costume were recorded and discussed from the standpoint of evolution. In 1873 he wrote "On beneficial restriction to liberty of marriage," {163b} a eugenic article for which he was attacked with gross unfairness and bitterness by the late St. George Mivart. He was defended by Huxley; and Charles Darwin formally ceased all intercourse with Mivart. We find mention of a "Globe Paper for the British Association" in 1873. And in the following year he read a contribution on "Probable Error" to the Mathematical Society {163c}--on which he writes in his diary, "found it was old." Besides another paper in the _Messenger of Mathematics_, he reviewed "Whitney on Language," {163d} and wrote a "Defence of Jevons" which I have not been able to trace. In 1875 he was at work on the "Flow of Pitch," on an "Equipotential Tracer," on slide rules, and sent a paper on "Cousin Marriages" to the Statistical Society. {164a} It is not my province to deal with these papers; they are enumerated here as showing his activity of mind and his varied interests,--features in his character which were notable throughout life.

The most interesting entry in his diary for 1875 is a "Paper on Equipotentials much approved by Sir W. Thomson." This is the first notice of an association of primary importance in George's scientific career. Then came his memoir, "On the influence of geological changes in the earth's axis of rotation." Lord Kelvin was one of the referees appointed by the Council of the Royal Society to report on this paper, which was published in the _Philosophical Transactions_ in 1877.

In his diary, November 1878, George records, "Paper on tides ordered to be printed." This refers to his work, "On the bodily tides of viscous and semi-elastic spheroids, etc.," published in the _Phil. Trans._ in 1879. It was in regard to this paper that his father wrote to George on October 29th, 1878: {164b}

My dear old George,

I have been quite delighted with your letter and read it all with
eagerness. You were very good to write it. All of us are delighted,
for considering what a man Sir William Thomson is, it is most grand
that you should have staggered him so quickly, and that he should
speak of your 'discovery, etc.' . . . Hurrah for the bowels of the
earth and their viscosity, and for the moon and for the Heavenly
bodies, and for my son George (F.R.S. very soon). . . . {165a}

The bond of pupil and master between George Darwin and Lord Kelvin, originating in the years 1877-8, was to be a permanent one, and developed, not merely into scientific co-operation, but into a close friendship. Sir Joseph Larmor has recorded {165b} that George's "tribute to Lord Kelvin, to whom he dedicated Volume I of his Collected Papers {165c} . . . gave lively pleasure to his master and colleague." His words were:

Early in my scientific career it was my good fortune to be brought
into close personal relationship with Lord Kelvin. Many visits to
Glasgow and to Largs have brought me to look up to him as my master,
and I cannot find words to express how much I owe to his friendship
and to his inspiration.

During these years there is evidence that he continued to enjoy the friendship of Lord Rayleigh and of Mr. Balfour. We find in his diary records of visits to Terling and to Whittingehame, or of luncheons at Mr. Balfour's house in Carlton Gardens, for which George's scientific committee work in London gave frequent opportunity. In the same way there are many records of visits to Francis Galton, with whom he was united alike by kinship and affection.

Few people indeed can have taken more pains to cultivate friendship than did George. This trait was the product of his affectionate and eminently sociable nature, and of his characteristic energy and activity. In earlier life he travelled a good deal in search of health, {166} and in after years he attended numerous congresses as a representative of scientific bodies. He thus had unusual opportunities of making the acquaintance of men of other nationalities, and some of his warmest friendships were with foreigners. In passing through Paris he rarely failed to visit M. and Mme d'Estournelles and "the d'Abbadies." It was in Algiers in 1878 and 1879 that he cemented his friendship with the late J. F. MacLennan, author of _Primitive Marriage_; and in 1880 he was at Davos with the same friends. In 1881 he went to Madeira, where he received much kindness from the Blandy family--doubtless through the recommendation of Lady Kelvin.

Cambridge.

We have seen that George was elected a Fellow of Trinity in October 1868, and that five years later (October 1873) he began his second lease of a Cambridge existence. There is at first little to record: he held at this time no official position, and when his Fellowship expired he continued to live in College, busy with his research work, and laying down the earlier tiers of the monumental series of papers which he gave to the world. This soon led to his being proposed (in November 1877) for the Royal Society, and elected in June 1879. The principal event in this stage of his Cambridge life was his election in 1883 as Plumian Professor of Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy. {167} His predecessor in the Chair was Professor Challis, who had held office since 1836, and is now chiefly remembered in connection with Adams and the planet Neptune. The professorship is not necessarily connected with the Observatory, and practical astronomy formed no part of George's duties. His lectures being on advanced mathematics usually attracted but few students; in the Long Vacation, however, when he habitually gave one of his courses, there was often a fairly large class. George's relations with his class have been sympathetically treated by Professor E. W. Brown, {168} than whom no one can speak with more authority, since he was one of my brother's favourite pupils.

In the late '70's George began to be appointed to various University Boards and Syndicates. Thus from 1878-82 he was on the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate. In 1879 he was placed on the Observatory Syndicate, of which he became an official member in 1883 on his election to the Plumian Professorship. In the same way he was on the Special Board for Mathematics. He was a member of the Financial Board from 1900-1 to 1903-4, and on the Council of the Senate in 1905-6 and 1908-9. But he never became a professional syndic--one of those virtuous persons who spend their lives in University affairs. In his obituary of George (_Nature_, December 12, 1912), Sir Joseph Larmor writes:

In the affairs of the University, of which he was an ornament, Sir
George Darwin made a substantial mark, though it cannot be said that
he possessed the patience in discussion that is sometimes a necessary
condition to taking a share in its administration. But his wide
acquaintance and friendships among the statesmen and men of affairs
of the time, dating often from undergraduate days, gave him openings
for usefulness on a wider plane. Thus, at a time when residents were
bewailing even more than usual the inadequacy of the resources of the
University for the great expansion which the scientific progress of
the age demanded, it was largely on his initiative that, by a
departure from all precedent, an unofficial body was constituted in
1899 under the name of the Cambridge University Association, to
promote the further endowment of the University by interesting its
graduates throughout the Empire in its progress and its more pressing
needs. This important body, which was organised under the strong
lead of the late Duke of Devonshire, then Chancellor, comprises as
active members most of the public men who owe allegiance to
Cambridge, and has already by its interest and help powerfully
stimulated the expansion of the University into new fields of
national work, though it has not yet achieved financial support on
anything like the scale to which American seats of learning are
accustomed.

The Master of Christ's writes:

_May_ 31_st_, 1915.

My impression is that George did not take very much interest in the
petty details which are so beloved by a certain type of University
authority. 'Comma hunting' and such things were not to his taste,
and at meetings he was often rather distrait, but when anything of
real importance came up he was of extraordinary use. He was
especially good at drafting letters, and over anything that he
thought promoted the advancement of the University along the right
lines he would take endless trouble--writing and re-writing reports
and letters till he got them to his taste. The sort of movements
which interested him most were those which connected Cambridge with
the outside world. He was especially interested in the Appointments
Board. A good many of us constantly sought his advice, and nearly
always took it: but, as I say, I do not think he cared much about the
'parish pump,' and was usually worried at long meetings.

Professor Newall has also been good enough to give me his impressions:

His weight in the committees on which I have had personal experience
of his influence seems to me to have depended in large measure on his
realising very clearly the distinction between the importance of ends
to be aimed at and the difficulty of harmonising the personal
characteristics of the men who might be involved in the work needed
to attain the ends. The ends he always took seriously--the crotchets
he often took humorously, to the great easement of many situations
that are liable to arise on a committee. I can imagine that to those
who had corns his direct progress may at times have seemed
unsympathetic and hasty. He was ready to take much trouble in
formulating statements of business with great precision--a result
doubtless of his early legal experiences. I recall how he would say,
"If a thing has to be done, the minute should if possible make some
individual responsible for doing it." He would ask, "Who is going to
do the work? If a man has to take the responsibility, we must do
what we can to help him, and not hamper him by unnecessary
restrictions and criticisms." His helpfulness came from his
quickness in seizing the important point and his readiness to take
endless trouble in the important work of looking into details before
and after the meetings. The amount of work that he did in response
to the requirements of various Committees was very great, and it was
curious to realise in how many cases he seemed to have diffidence as
to the value of his contributions.

But on the whole, the work which he was able to carry out, in addition to professional duties and research, was in matters of general importance unconnected with the University. To these we shall return.

In 1884 he became engaged to Miss Maud Du Puy of Philadelphia. She came of an old Huguenot stock, descending from Dr. John Du Puy, who was born in France in 1679, and settled in New York in 1713. They were married on July 22nd, 1884, and this event happily coloured the remainder of George's life. As time went on, and existence became fuller and busier, she was able by her never-failing devotion to shield him from fatigue and anxiety. In this way he was helped and protected in the various semi-public functions in which he took a principal part. Nor was her help valued only on these occasions, for indeed the comfort and happiness of every day was in her charge. There is a charming letter {171} from George's mother, dated April 15th, 1884:

Maud had to put on her wedding-dress in order to say at the
Custom-house in America that she had worn it, so we asked her to come
down and show it to us. She came down with great simplicity and
quietness . . . only really pleased at its being admired and at
looking pretty herself, which was strikingly the case. She was a
little shy at coming in, and sent in Mrs. Jebb to ask George to come
out and see it first and bring her in. It was handsome and simple.
I like seeing George so frivolous, so deeply interested in which
diamond trinket should be my present, and in her new Paris morning
dress, in which he felt quite unfit to walk with her.

Later, probably in June, George's mother wrote {172a} to Miss Du Puy, "Your visit here was a great happiness to me, as something in you (I don't know what) made me feel sure you would always be sweet and kind to George when he is ill and uncomfortable." These simple and touching words may be taken as a true forecast of his happy married life.

In March 1885 George acquired by purchase the house Newnham Grange, {172b} which remained his home to the end of his life. It stands at the southern end of the 'Backs,' within a few yards of the river where it bends eastward in flowing from the upper to the lower of the two Newnham water-mills. I remember forebodings as to dampness, but they proved wrong--even the cellars being remarkably dry. The house is built of faded yellowish bricks, with old tiles on the roof, and has a pleasant home-like air. It was formerly the house of the Beales family, {173a} one of the old merchant stocks of Cambridge. This fact accounts for the great barn-like granaries which occupied much of the plot near the high road. These buildings were in part pulled down, thus making room for a lawn tennis court, while what was not demolished made a gallery looking on the court, as well as play-room for the children. At the eastern end of the property a cottage and part of the granaries were converted into a small house of an attractively individual character, for which I think tenants have hitherto been easily found among personal friends. One of the most pleasant features of the Grange was the flower-garden and rockery on the other side of the river, reached by a wooden bridge and called "the Little Island." {173b} The house is conveniently close to the town, yet has a most pleasant outlook, to the north over the Backs while there is the river and the Fen to the south. The children had a den or house in the branches of a large copper beech tree overhanging the river. They were allowed to use the boat, which was known as the _Griffin_, from the family crest with which it was adorned. None of them were drowned, though accidents were not unknown; in one of these an eminent lady and well-known writer, who was inveigled on to the river by the children, had to wade to shore near Silver Street bridge owing to the boat running aground.

The Darwins had five children, of whom one died an infant: of the others, Charles Galton Darwin has inherited much of his father's mathematical ability, and has been elected to a Mathematical Lectureship at Christ's College. He is now in the Army, and employed in research work in France. The younger son, William, has a commission in the 18th Battalion of the Durham Light Infantry, and is now working with his brother. George's elder daughter is married to Monsieur Jacques Raverat. Her skill as an artist has perhaps its hereditary root in her father's draughtsmanship. The younger daughter, Margaret, is married to Mr. Geoffrey Keynes.

George's relations with his family were most happy. His diary never fails to record the dates on which the children came home, or the black days which took them to school. There are constantly recurring entries in his diary of visits to the boys at Marlborough or Winchester, or of the journeys to arrange for the schooling of the girls in England or abroad. The parents took pains that their children should have opportunities of learning conversational French and German.

George's characteristic energy showed itself not only in these ways but also in devising bicycling expeditions and informal picnics for the whole family, to the Fleam Dyke, to Whittlesford, or other pleasant spots near home; and these excursions he enjoyed as much as anyone of the party. As he always wished to have his children with him, one or more generally accompanied him and his wife when they attended congresses or other scientific gatherings abroad.

His house was the scene of many Christmas dinners, the first of which I find any record being in 1886. These meetings were often made an occasion for plays acted by the children; of these the most celebrated was a Cambridge version of _Romeo and Juliet_, in which the hero and heroine were scions of the rival factions of Trinity and St. John's.

Games and Pastimes.

As an undergraduate George played tennis--not the modern out-door game, but that regal pursuit which is sometimes known as the game of kings and otherwise as the king of games. When George came up as an undergraduate there were two tennis courts in Cambridge, one in the East Road, the other being the ancient one that gave its name to Tennis Court Road, and was pulled down to make room for the new buildings of Pembroke. In this way was destroyed the last of the College tennis courts of which we read in Mr. Clark's _History_. I think George must have had pleasure in the obvious development of the tennis court from some primaeval farm-yard in which the _pent-house_ was the roof of a shed, and the _grille_ a real window or half-door. To one brought up on evolution there is also a satisfaction about the French terminology which survives in _e.g._ the _Tambour_ and the _Dedans_. George put much thought into acquiring a correct style of play; for in tennis there is a religion of attitude corresponding to that which painfully regulates the life of the golfer. He became a good tennis player as an undergraduate, and was in the running for a place in the inter-University match. The marker at the Pembroke court was Henry Harradine, whom we all sincerely liked and respected, but he was not a good teacher, and it was only when George came under Henry's sons, John and Jim Harradine, at the Trinity and Clare court, that his game began to improve. He continued to play tennis for some years, and only gave it up after a blow from a tennis ball in January 1895 had almost destroyed the sight of his left eye.

In 1910 he took up archery, and zealously set himself to acquire the correct mode of standing, the position of the head and hands, etc. He kept an archery diary in which each day's shooting is carefully analysed and the results given in percentages. In 1911 he shot on 131 days: the last occasion on which he took out his bow was September 13, 1912.

I am indebted to Mr. H. Sherlock, who often shot with him at Cambridge, for his impressions. He writes: "I shot a good deal with your brother the year before his death; he was very keen on the sport, methodical and painstaking, and paid great attention to style, and as he had a good natural 'loose,' which is very difficult to acquire, there is little doubt (notwithstanding that he came to archery rather late in life) that had he lived he would have been above the average of the men who shoot fairly regularly at the public meetings." After my brother's death Mr. Sherlock was good enough to look at George's archery note-book. "I then saw," he writes, "that he had analysed them in a way which, so far as I am aware, had never been done before." Mr. Sherlock has given examples of the method in a sympathetic obituary published (p. 273)in _The Archer's Register_. {177} George's point was that the traditional method of scoring is not fair in regard to the areas of the coloured rings of the target. Mr. Sherlock records in his _Notice_ that George joined the Royal Toxophilite Society in 1912, and occasionally shot in the Regent's Park. In 1912 he won the Norton Cup and Medal (144 arrows at 120 yards.)

There was a billiard table at Down, and George learned to play fairly well, though he had no pretension to real proficiency. He used to play at the Athenaeum, and in 1911 we find him playing there in the Billiard Handicap, but a week later he records in his diary that he was "knocked out."

Scientific Committees.

George served for many years on the Solar Physics Committee and on the Meteorological Council. With regard to the latter, Sir Napier Shaw has at my request given me his impressions: {178}

It was in February 1885, upon the retirement of Warren De la Rue,
that your brother George, by appointment of the Royal Society, joined
the governing body of the Meteorological Office, at that time the
Meteorological Council. He remained a member until the end of the
Council in 1905, and thereafter, until his death, he was one of the
two nominees of the Royal Society upon the Meteorological Committee,
the new body which was appointed by the Treasury to take over the
control of the administration of the Office. . . .

The Commissioners, collectively known as the Meteorological Council,
were a remarkably distinguished body of Fellows of the Royal Society,
and when Darwin took the place of De la Rue, the members were men
subsequently famous, as Sir Richard Strachey, Sir William Wharton,
Sir George Stokes, Sir Francis Galton, Sir George Darwin, with E. J.
Stone, a former Astronomer Royal for the Cape. . . .

I do not think that Darwin addressed himself spontaneously to
meteorological problems, but he was always ready to help. He was
very regular in his attendance at Council, and the minutes show that
after Stokes retired, all questions involving physical measurement or
mathematical reasoning were referred to him. There is a short and
very characteristic report from him on the work of the harmonic
analyser, and a considerable number upon researches by Mr. Dines or
Sir G. Stokes on anemometers. It is hardly possible to exaggerate
his aptitude for work of that kind. He could take a real interest in
things that were not his own. He was full of sympathy and
appreciation for efforts of all kinds, especially those of young men,
and at the same time, using his wide experience, he was perfectly
frank and fearless not only in his judgment but also in the
expression of it. He gave one the impression of just protecting
himself from boredom by habitual loyalty and a finely tempered sense
of duty. My earliest recollection of him on the Council is the
thrilling production of a new version of the Annual Report of the
Council which he had written because the original had become more
completely 'scissors and paste' than he could endure.

After the Office came into my charge in 1900, so long as he lived I
never thought of taking any serious step without first consulting
him, and he was always willing to help by his advice, by his personal
influence and by his special knowledge. For the first six years of
the time I held a college fellowship, with the peculiar condition of
four public lectures in the University each year and no emolument.
One year, when I was rather overdone, Darwin took the course for me,
and devoted the lectures to Dynamical Meteorology. I believe he got
it up for the occasion, for he professed the utmost diffidence about
it, but the progress which we have made in recent years in that
subject dates from those lectures and the correspondence which arose
upon them.

In Council it was the established practice to proceed by agreement
and not by voting; he had a wonderful way of bringing a discussion to
a head by courageously 'voicing' the conclusion to which it led, and
frankly expressing the general opinion without hurting anybody's
feelings. . . .

It is not easy to give expression to the powerful influence which he
exercised upon all departments of official meteorology without making
formal contributions to meteorological literature. He gave me a note
on a curious point in the evaluation of the velocity equivalents of
the Beaufort Scale, which is published in the Office Memoirs No. 180,
and that is all I have to show in print, but he was in and behind
everything that was done, and personally, I need hardly add, I owe to
him much more than this or any other letter can fully express.

On May 6, 1904, the year of the South African meeting, he was elected President of the British Association.

On July 29, 1905, he embarked with his wife and his son Charles, and arrived on August 15 at the Cape, where he gave the first part of his Presidential Address. Here he had the pleasure of finding as Governor, Sir Walter Hely-Hutchinson, whom he had known as a Trinity undergraduate. He was the guest of the late Sir David Gill, who remained a close friend for the rest of his life. George's diary gives his itinerary--which shows the trying amount of travel that he went through. A sample may be quoted:

August 19 Embark,
,, 22 Arrive at Durban,
,, 23 Mount Edgecombe,
,, 24 Pietermaritzburg,
,, 26 Colenso,
,, 27 Ladysmith,
,, 28 Johannesburg.

At Johannesburg he gave the second half of his Address. Then on by Bloemfontein, Kimberley, Bulawayo, to the Victoria Falls, where a bridge had to be opened. Then to Portuguese Africa on September 16, 17, where he made speeches in French and English. Finally he arrived at Suez on October 4, and got home October 18.

It was generally agreed that his Presidentship was a conspicuous success. The following appreciation is from the obituary notice in _The Observatory_, January 1913, p. 58:

The Association visited a dozen towns, and at each halt its President
addressed an audience partly new, and partly composed of people who
had been travelling with him for many weeks. At each place this
latter section heard with admiration a treatment of his subject
wholly fresh and exactly adapted to the locality.

Such duties are always trying, and it should not be forgotten that tact was necessary in a country which only two years before was still in the throes of war.

In the autumn he received the honour of being made a K.C.B. The distinction was doubly valued as being announced to him by his friend Mr. Balfour, then Prime Minister.

From 1899 to 1900 he was President of the Royal Astronomical Society. One of his last Presidential acts was the presentation of the Society's Medal to his friend M. Poincare.

He had the unusual distinction of serving twice as President of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, once in 1890-92 and again 1911-12.

In 1891 he gave the Bakerian Lecture {182a} of the Royal Society, his subject being "Tidal Prediction." This annual praelection dates from 1775, and the list of lecturers is a distinguished roll of names.

In 1897 he lectured at the Lowell Institute at Boston, and this was the origin of his book on _Tides_, published in the following year. Of this Sir Joseph Larmor says {182b} that "it has taken rank with the semi-popular writings of Helmholtz and Kelvin as a model of what is possible in the exposition of a scientific subject." It has passed through three English editions, and has been translated into many foreign languages.

International Associations.

During the last ten or fifteen years of his life George was much occupied with various International bodies, _e.g._ the International Geodetic Association, the International Association of Academies, the International Congress of Mathematicians, and the Seismological Congress.

With regard to the last named it was in consequence of George's report to the Royal Society that the British Government joined the Congress. It was however with the Geodetic Association that he was principally connected.

Sir Joseph Larmor (_Nature_, December 12, 1912) gives the following account of the origin of the Association:

The earliest of topographic surveys, the model which other national
surveys adopted and improved upon, was the Ordnance Survey of the
United Kingdom. But the great trigonometrical survey of India,
started nearly a century ago, and steadily carried on since that time
by officers of the Royal Engineers, is still the most important
contribution to the science of the figure of the earth, though the
vast geodetic operations in the United States are now following it
closely. The gravitational and other complexities incident on
surveying among the great mountain masses of the Himalayas early
demanded the highest mathematical assistance. The problems
originally attacked in India by Archdeacon Pratt were afterwards
virtually taken over by the Royal Society, and its secretary, Sir
George Stokes, of Cambridge, became from 1864 onwards the adviser and
referee of the survey as regards its scientific enterprises. On the
retirement of Sir George Stokes this position fell very largely to
Sir George Darwin, whose relations with the India Office on this and
other affairs remained close, and very highly appreciated, throughout
the rest of his life.

The results of the Indian survey have been of the highest importance
for the general science of geodesy. . . . It came to be felt that
closer co-operation between different countries was essential to
practical progress and to coordination of the work of overlapping
surveys.

For the further history of George's connection with the Association, I am indebted to the Secretary, Dr. van d. Sande Bakhuyzen.

On the proposal of the Royal Society the British Government, after
having consulted the Director of the Ordnance Survey, in 1898,
resolved upon the adhesion of Great Britain to the International
Geodetic Association, and appointed as its delegate, G. H. Darwin.
By his former researches and by his high scientific character, he,
more than any other, was entitled to this position, which would
afford him an excellent opportunity of furthering, by his
recommendations, the study of theoretical geodesy. . .

We cannot relate in detail his valuable co-operation as a member of
the Council in the various transactions of the Association, for
instance, on the junction of the Russian and Indian triangulations
through Pamir, but we must gratefully remember his great service to
the Association when, at his invitation, the delegates met in 1909
for the 16th General Conference in London and Cambridge.

With the utmost care he prepared everything to render the Conference
as interesting and agreeable as possible, and he fully succeeded.
Through his courtesy the foreign delegates had the opportunity of
making the personal acquaintance of several members of the Geodetic
staff of England and its colonies, and of other scientific men, who
were invited to take part in the Conference; and when after four
meetings in London the delegates went to Cambridge to continue their
work, they enjoyed the most cordial hospitality from Sir George and
Lady Darwin, who, with her husband, procured them in Newnham Grange
happy leisure hours between their scientific labours.

At this conference Darwin delivered various reports, and at the
discussion on Hecker's determination of the variation of the vertical
by the attraction of the moon and sun, he gave an interesting account
of the researches on the same subject made by him and his brother
Horace more than 20 years ago, which unfortunately failed from the
bad conditions of the places of observation.

In 1912 Sir George, though already over-fatigued by the preparations
for the Mathematical Congress in Cambridge, and the exertions
entailed by it, nevertheless prepared the different reports on the
geodetic work in the British Empire, but, alas, his illness prevented
him from assisting at the conference at Hamburg, where they were
presented by other British delegates. The conference thanked him,
and sent him its best wishes, but at the end of the year the
Association had to deplore the loss of the man who in theoretical
geodesy as well as in other branches of mathematics and astronomy
stood in the first rank, and who for his noble character was
respected and beloved by all his colleagues in the International
Geodetic Association.

Sir Joseph Larmor writes: {186}

Sir George Darwin's last public appearance was as president of the
fifth International Congress of Mathematicians, which met at
Cambridge on August 22-28, 1912. The time for England to receive the
congress having obviously arrived, a movement was initiated at
Cambridge, with the concurrence of Oxford mathematicians, to send an
invitation to the fourth congress held at Rome in 1908. The proposal
was cordially accepted, and Sir George Darwin, as _doyen_ of the
mathematical school at Cambridge, became chairman of the organising
committee, and was subsequently elected by the congress to be their
president. Though obviously unwell during part of the meeting, he
managed to discharge the delicate duties of the chair with
conspicuous success, and guided with great verve the deliberations of
the final assembly of what turned out to be a most successful meeting
of that important body.

Personal Characteristics.

His daughter, Madame Raverat, writes:

I think most people might not realise that the sense of adventure and
romance was the most important thing in my father's life, except his
love of work. He thought about all life romantically, and his own
life in particular; one could feel it in the quality of everything he
said about himself. Everything in the world was interesting and
wonderful to him, and he had the power of making other people feel
it.

He had a passion for going everywhere and seeing everything; learning
every language, knowing the technicalities of every trade; and all
this emphatically _not_ from the scientific or collector's point of
view, but from a deep sense of the romance and interest of
everything. It was splendid to travel with him; he always learned as
much as possible of the language, and talked to everyone; we had to
see simply everything there was to be seen, and it was all
interesting, like an adventure. For instance, at Vienna I remember
being taken to a most improper music hall, and at Schonbrunn hearing
from an old forester the whole secret history of the old Emperor's
son. My father would tell us the stories of the places we went to
with an incomparable conviction and sense of the reality and
dramaticness of the events. It is absurd, of course, but in that
respect he always seemed to me a little like Sir Walter Scott. {187}

The books he used to read to us when we were quite small, and which
we adored, were Percy's _Reliques_ and the _Prologue to the
__Canterbury Tales_. He used often to read Shakespeare to himself, I
think generally the historical plays; also Chaucer, _Don Quixote_ in
Spanish, and all kind of books like Joinville's _Life of St. Louis_
in the old French.

I remember the story of the death of Gordon told so that we all
cried, I think; and Gladstone could hardly be mentioned in
consequence. All kinds of wars and battles interested him, and I
think he liked archery more because it was romantic than because it
was a game.

During his last illness his interest in the Balkan war never failed.
Three weeks before his death he was so ill that the doctor thought
him dying. Suddenly he rallied from the half-unconscious state in
which he had been lying for many hours, and the first words he spoke
on opening his eyes were, "Have they got to Constantinople yet?"
This was very characteristic. I often wish he was alive now, because
his understanding and appreciation of the glory and tragedy of this
war would be like no one else's.

His daughter Margaret writes:

He was absolutely unselfconscious, and it never seemed to occur to
him to wonder what impression he was making on others. I think it
was this simplicity which made him so good with children. He seemed
to understand their point of view, and to enjoy with them in a way
that is not common with grown-up people. I shall never forget how
when our dog had to be killed he seemed to feel the horror of it just
as I did, and how this sense of his really sharing my grief made him
able to comfort me as nobody else could.

He took a transparent pleasure in the honours that came to him,
especially in his membership of foreign Academies, in which he and
Sir David Gill had a friendly rivalry or "race," as they called it.
I think this simplicity was one of his chief characteristics, though
most important of all was the great warmth and width of his
affections. He would take endless trouble about his friends,
especially in going to see them if they were lonely or ill; and he
was absolutely faithful and generous in his love.

After his mother came to live in Cambridge I believe he hardly ever missed a day in going to see her, even though he might only be able to stay a few minutes. She lived at some distance off, and he was often both busy and tired. This constancy was very characteristic. It was shown once more in his many visits to Jim Harradine, the marker at the tennis court, on what proved to be his death-bed.

His energy and his kindness of heart were shown in many cases of distress. For instance, a guard on the Great Northern Railway was robbed of his savings by an absconding solicitor, and George succeeded in collecting some 300 pounds for him. In later years, when his friend the guard became bedridden, George often went to see him. Another man whom he befriended was a one-legged man at Balsham, whom he happened to notice in bicycling past. He took the trouble to see the village authorities, and succeeded in sending the man to London to be fitted with an artificial leg.

In these and similar cases there was always the touch of personal sympathy. For instance, he pensioned the widow of his gardener, and he often made the payment of her weekly allowance the excuse for a visit.

In another sort of charity he was equally kindhearted, viz., in answering the people who wrote foolish letters to him on scientific subjects--and here as in many points he resembled his father.

His sister, Mrs. Litchfield, has truly said {190} of George, that he inherited his father's power of work and much of his "cordiality and warmth of nature, with a characteristic power of helping others." He resembled his father in another quality, that of modesty. His friend and pupil, Professor E. W. Brown, writes:

He was always modest about the importance of his researches. He
would often wonder whether the results were worth the labour they had
cost him, and whether he would have been better employed in some
other way.

His nephew Bernard, speaking of George's way of taking pains to be friendly and forthcoming to anyone with whom he came in contact, says:

He was ready to take other people's pleasantness and politeness at
its apparent value and not to discount it. If they seemed glad to
see him, he believed that they _were_ glad. If he liked somebody, he
believed that the somebody liked him, and did not worry himself by
wondering whether they really did like him.

Of his energy we have evidence in the _amount_ of material contained in his collected works. There was nothing dilatory about him, and here he again resembled his father, who had markedly the power of doing things at the right moment, and thus avoiding waste of time and discomfort to others. George had none of a characteristic which was defined in the case of Henry Bradshaw, as "always doing something else." After an interruption he could instantly reabsorb himself in his work, so that his study was not kept as a place sacred to peace and quiet.

His wife is my authority for saying that although he got so much done, it was not by working long hours. Moreover, the days that he was away from home made large gaps in his opportunities for steady application. His diaries show in another way that his researches by no means took all his time. He made a note of the books he read, and these make a considerable record. Although he read much good literature with honest enjoyment, he had not a delicate or subtle literary judgment. Nor did he care for music. He was interested in travels, history, and biography, and as he could remember what he read or heard, his knowledge was wide in many directions. His linguistic power was characteristic. He read many European languages. I remember his translating a long Swedish paper for my father. And he took pleasure in the Platt Deutsch stories of Fritz Reuter.

The discomfort from which he suffered during the meeting at Cambridge of the International Congress of Mathematicians in August 1912 was, in fact, the beginning of his last illness. An exploratory operation showed that he was suffering from malignant disease. Happily he was spared the pain that gives its terror to this malady. His nature was, as we have seen, simple and direct, with a pleasant residue of the innocence and eagerness of childhood. In the manner of his death these qualities were ennobled by an admirable and most unselfish courage. As his vitality ebbed away his affection only showed the stronger. He wished to live, and he felt that his power of work and his enjoyment of life were as strong as ever, but his resignation to the sudden end was complete and beautiful. He died on December 7, 1912, and was buried at Trumpington.

HONOURS, MEDALS, DEGREES, SOCIETIES, ETC.

_Order_. K.C.B. 1905.

_Medals_. {192a}

1883. Telford Medal of the Institution of Civil Engineers.

1884. Royal Medal. {192b}

1892. Royal Astronomical Society's Medal.

1911. Copley Medal of the Royal Society.

1912. Royal Geographical Society's Medal.

_Offices_.

Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Plumian Professor in the University.

Vice-President of the International Geodetic Association, Lowell Lecturer at Boston U.S. (1897).

Member of the Meteorological and Solar Physics Committees.

Past President of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, {193} Royal Astronomical Society, British Association.

_Doctorates_, _etc._, _of Universities_.

Oxford, Dublin, Glasgow, Pennsylvania, Padua (Socio onorario), Gottingen, Christiania, Cape of Good Hope, Moscow (honorary member).

_Foreign or Honorary Membership of Academies_, _etc._

Amsterdam (Netherlands Academy), Boston (American Academy), Brussels (Royal Society), Calcutta (Math. Soc.), Dublin (Royal Irish Academy), Edinburgh (Royal Society), Halle (K. Leop.-Carol. Acad.), Kharkov (Math. Soc.), Mexico (Soc. "Antonio Alzate"), Moscow (Imperial Society of the Friends of Science), New York, Padua, Philadelphia (Philosophical Society), Rome (Lincei), Stockholm (Swedish Academy), Toronto (Physical Society), Washington (National Academy), Wellington (New Zealand Inst.).

_Correspondent of Academies_, _etc._, _at_

Acireale (Zelanti), Berlin (Prussian Academy), Buda Pest (Hungarian Academy), Frankfort (Senckenberg. Natur. Gesell.), Gottingen (Royal Society), Paris, St. Petersburg, Turin, Istuto Veneto, Vienna. {194}