Kitabı oku: «Famous Men of Science», sayfa 18
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 zoölogy, 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 preëminence 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 "Zoölogy 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."
Lyell wrote to Darwin concerning this book: "It is all true, but do not flatter yourself that you will be believed till you are growing bald, like me, with hard work and vexation at the incredulity of the world."
Darwin's next work, on the "Volcanic Islands Visited during the Voyage of the Beagle," was published in 1844. This book, he said, "cost me eighteen months." His third geological book, "Geological Observations on South America," was published in 1846.
Meantime, tired of smoky London, Darwin purchased a home in Down, a retired village five or six hundred feet above the sea. The house was a square brick building, of three stories, vine-covered, in the midst of eighteen acres. "Its chief merit," Darwin writes to a friend, "is its extreme rurality. I think I was never in a more perfectly quiet country." Here, for forty years, Darwin lived the isolated life of a student, producing the books that made him the most noted scientist of his century. Of these years, Mr. Darwin said: "Few persons can have lived a more retired life than we have done. Besides short visits to the houses of relations, and occasionally to the seaside or elsewhere, we have gone nowhere. During the first part of our residence we went a little into society, and received a few friends here; but my health almost always suffered from the excitement… I have, therefore, been compelled for many years to give up all dinner parties… From the same cause I have been able to invite here very few scientific acquaintances. My chief enjoyment and sole employment throughout life has been scientific work; and the excitement from such work makes me for the time forget, or drives quite away, my daily discomfort."
At Down, Darwin worked for eight years on two large volumes concerning cirripedia (barnacles), describing all the known living species; the extinct species, or fossil cirripedes, were in two smaller volumes. The first books were published by the Ray Society, between 1851 and 1854; the others by the Palæontographical Society. About two years out of the eight were lost through illness. Sometimes he became half discouraged. He wrote a friend, "I have been so steadily going downhill, I cannot help doubting whether I can ever crawl a little uphill again. Unless I can, enough to work a little, I hope my life may be very short, for to lie on a sofa all day and do nothing but give trouble to the best and kindest of wives and good, dear children is dreadful."
Darwin doubted, in after life, "whether the work was worth the consumption of so much time," but Professor Huxley thinks he "never did a wiser thing than when he devoted himself to the years of patient toil which the cirriped-book cost him… The value of the cirriped monograph lies not merely in the fact that it is a very admirable piece of work, and constituted a great addition to positive knowledge, but still more in the circumstance that it was a piece of critical self-discipline, the effect of which manifested itself in everything he wrote afterwards, and saved him from endless errors of detail." Darwin's patient labor is shown by his working "for the last half-month, daily, in dissecting a little animal about the size of a pin's head, from the Chonos archipelago, and I could spend another month, and daily see more beautiful structure."
