Volume I Part 25 (1/2)

I am very sorry to hear about the British Museum; it would be hopeless to contend against any one supported by Owen. Perhaps another chance might occur before very long. How would it be to speak to Owen as soon as your own mind is made up? From what I have heard, since talking to you, I fear the strongest personal interest with a Minister is requisite for a pension.

Farewell, and may success attend the acerrimo pro-pugnatori.

P.S. I deeply wish you could find some situation in which you could give your time to science; it would be a great thing for science and for yourself.

LETTER 138. TO J.L.A. DE QUATREf.a.gES. Down, July 11th [1862].

I thank you cordially for so kindly and promptly answering my questions.

I will quote some of your remarks. The case seems to me of some importance with reference to my heretical notions, for it shows how larvae might be modified. I shall not publish, I daresay, for a year, for much time is expended in experiments. If within this time you should acquire any fresh information on the similarity of the moths of distinct races, and would allow me to quote any facts on your authority, I should feel very grateful.

I thank you for your great kindness with respect to the translation of the ”Origin;” it is very liberal in you, as we differ to a considerable degree. I have been atrociously abused by my religious countrymen; but as I live an independent life in the country, it does not in the least hurt me in any way, except indeed when the abuse comes from an old friend like Professor Owen, who abuses me and then advances the doctrine that all birds are probably descended from one parent.

I wish the translator (138/1. Mdlle. Royer, who translated the first French edition of the ”Origin.') had known more of Natural History; she must be a clever but singular lady, but I never heard of her till she proposed to translate my book.

LETTER 139. TO ASA GRAY. Down, July 23rd [1862].

I received several days ago two large packets, but have as yet read only your letter; for we have been in fearful distress, and I could attend to nothing. Our poor boy had the rare case of second rash and sore throat...; and, as if this was not enough, a most serious attack of erysipelas, with typhoid symptoms. I despaired of his life; but this evening he has eaten one mouthful, and I think has pa.s.sed the crisis. He has lived on port wine every three-quarters of an hour, day and night.

This evening, to our astonishment, he asked whether his stamps were safe, and I told him of one sent by you, and that he should see it to-morrow. He answered, ”I should awfully like to see it now”; so with difficulty he opened his eyelids and glanced at it, and, with a sigh of satisfaction, said, ”All right.” Children are one's greatest happiness, but often and often a still greater misery. A man of science ought to have none--perhaps not a wife; for then there would be nothing in this wide world worth caring for, and a man might (whether he could is another question) work away like a Trojan. I hope in a few days to get my brains in order, and then I will pick out all your orchid letters, and return them in hopes of your making use of them...

Of all the carpenters for knocking the right nail on the head, you are the very best; no one else has perceived that my chief interest in my orchid book has been that it was a ”flank movement” on the enemy. I live in such solitude that I hear nothing, and have no idea to what you allude about Bentham and the orchids and species. But I must enquire.

By the way, one of my chief enemies (the sole one who has annoyed me), namely Owen, I hear has been lecturing on birds; and admits that all have descended from one, and advances as his own idea that the oceanic wingless birds have lost their wings by gradual disuse. He never alludes to me, or only with bitter sneers, and coupled with Buffon and the ”Vestiges.”

Well, it has been an amus.e.m.e.nt to me this first evening, scribbling as egotistically as usual about myself and my doings; so you must forgive me, as I know well your kind heart will do. I have managed to skim the newspaper, but had not heart to read all the b.l.o.o.d.y details. Good G.o.d!

What will the end be? Perhaps we are too despondent here; but I must think you are too hopeful on your side of the water. I never believed the ”canards” of the army of the Potomac having capitulated. My good dear wife and self are come to wish for peace at any price. Good night, my good friend. I will scribble on no more.

One more word. I should like to hear what you think about what I say in the last chapter of the orchid book on the meaning and cause of the endless diversity of means for the same general purpose. It bears on design, that endless question. Good night, good night!

LETTER 140. TO C. LYELL. 1, Carlton Terrace, Southampton, August 22nd [1862].

You say that the Bishop and Owen will be down on you (140/1. This refers to the ”Antiquity of Man,” which was published in 1863.): the latter hardly can, for I was a.s.sured that Owen, in his lectures this spring, advanced as a new idea that wingless birds had lost their wings by disuse. (140/2. The first paragraph of this letter was published in ”Life and Letters,” II., pages 387, 388.) Also that magpies stole spoons, etc., from a remnant of some instinct like that of the bower-bird, which ornaments its playing pa.s.sage with pretty feathers.

Indeed, I am told that he hinted plainly that all birds are descended from one. What an unblus.h.i.+ng man he must be to lecture thus after abusing me so, and never to have openly retracted, or alluded to my book!

LETTER 141. TO JOHN LUBBOCK (LORD AVEBURY). Cliff Cottage, Bournemouth, September 5th [1862].

Many thanks for your pleasant note in return for all my stupid trouble.

I did not fully appreciate your insect-diving case (141/1. ”On two Aquatic Hymenoptera, one of which uses its Wings in Swimming.” By John Lubbock. ”Trans. Linn. Soc.” Volume XXIV., 1864, pages 135-42.) [Read May 7th, 1863.] In this paper Lubbock describes a new species of Polynema--P. natans--which swims by means of its wings, and is capable of living under water for several hours; the other species, referred to a new genus Prestwichia, lives under water, holds its wings motionless and uses its legs as oars.) before your last note, nor had I any idea that the fact was new, though new to me. It is really very interesting.

Of course you will publish an account of it. You will then say whether the insect can fly well through the air. (141/2. In describing the habits of Polynema, Lubbock writes, ”I was unfortunately unable to ascertain whether they could fly” (loc. cit., page 137).) My wife asked, ”How did he find that it stayed four hours under water without breathing?” I answered at once: ”Mrs. Lubbock sat four hours watching.”

I wonder whether I am right.

I long to be at home and at steady work, and I hope we may be in another month. I fear it is hopeless my coming to you, for I am squas.h.i.+er than ever, but hope two shower-baths a day will give me a little strength, so that you will, I hope, come to us. It is an age since I have seen you or any scientific friend.

I heard from Lyell the other day in the Isle of Wight, and from Hooker in Scotland. About Huxley I know nothing, but I hope his book progresses, for I shall be very curious to see it. (141/3. ”Man's Place in Nature.” London, 1863.)

I do nothing here except occasionally look at a few flowers, and there are very few here, for the country is wonderfully barren.

See what it is to be well trained. Horace said to me yesterday, ”If every one would kill adders they would come to sting less.” I answered: ”Of course they would, for there would be fewer.” He replied indignantly: ”I did not mean that; but the timid adders which run away would be saved, and in time would never sting at all.” Natural selection of cowards!