Part 6 (1/2)
Charles Darwin was the grandson of Erasmus Darwin, who, as we have seen, arrived independently at conclusions concerning the origin of species very similar to those of Lamarck, and embodied his views in poems, which, at the time of their publication, achieved a considerable popularity. In the younger philosopher, however, imagination was always kept in subjection by a determination to '_prove_ all things' and 'to hold fast that which is good'; though, in other respects, there were not wanting indications of the existence of hereditary characteristics in the grandson.
Born at Shrewsbury and educated in the public school of that town, Charles Darwin from the first exhibited signs of individuality in his ideas and his tastes. The rigid cla.s.sical teaching of his school did not touch him, but, with the aid of his elder brother, he surrept.i.tiously started a chemical laboratory in a garden tool-house. From his earliest infancy he was a collector, first of trifles, like seals and franks, but later of stones, minerals and beetles.
At the outset, only the desire to possess new things animated him, then a wish to put names to them, but, at a very early period, a pa.s.sion arose for learning all he could about them. Thus when only 9 or 10 years of age, he had 'a desire of being able to know something about every pebble in front of the hall-door,' and at 13 or 14, when he heard the remark of a local naturalist, 'that the world would come to an end before anyone would be able to explain how' a boulder (the 'bell-stone'
of local-fame) came to be brought from distant hills--the lad had such a deep impression made on his mind, that he says in after life, 'I _meditated_ over this wonderful stone[95].'
At the age of 16, he was sent to Edinburgh University to prepare himself for the work of a doctor--the profession of his father and grandfather.
But here his independence of character again a.s.serted itself. He found most of the lectures 'intolerably dull,' so he occupied himself with other pursuits, making many friends.h.i.+ps among the younger naturalists and doing a little in the way of biological research himself.
That he was not altogether dest.i.tute of ambition in the eyes of his companions, however, is, I think, indicated by an amusing circ.u.mstance.
In the library of Charles Darwin, which is carefully preserved at Cambridge, there is a copy of Jameson's _Manual of Mineralogy_, published in 1821, which was evidently used by the young student in his cla.s.swork at Edinburgh. In this a quizzical fellow-student has written 'Charles Darwin Esq., M.D., F.R.S.'--mischievously adding 'A.S.S.'! Even for geology, the science to which in all his after life he became so deeply devoted, young Darwin conceived the most violent aversion; and as he listened to Jameson's Wernerian outpourings at Salisbury Crags, he 'determined never to attend to geology,' registering the terrible vow 'never as long as I lived to read a book on Geology, or in any way to study the science[96].'
As it became evident that Charles Darwin would never make a doctor, his father, after two years' trial, sent him to Cambridge with the object of his qualifying for a clergyman. But at Christ's College, in that University, he again took his own line--which was not that of divinity--riding, shooting and beetle-hunting being his chief delights.
Nevertheless, at Cambridge as at Edinburgh, he seems to have shown an appreciation for good and instructive society, and in Henslow, the judicious and amiable Professor of Botany, the young fellow found such sympathy and kindly help that he came to be distinguished as 'the man who walks with Henslow[97].'
After achieving a 'pa.s.s degree,' Darwin went back to the University for an extra term, and by the advice of Henslow began to 'think about' the despised Science of Geology. He was introduced to that inspiring teacher, Sedgwick, with whom he made a geological excursion into Wales; but though he said he 'worked like a tiger' at geology, yet he, when he got the chance of shooting on his uncle's estate, had to make the confession, 'I should have thought myself mad to give up the first days of partridge-shooting for geology or any other science[98].'
There is a sentence in one of the letters written at this time which suggests that, even at this early period in his geological career, Darwin had begun to experience some misgivings concerning the catastrophic doctrines of his teachers and contemporaries. He says:--
'As yet I have only indulged in hypotheses, but they are such powerful ones that I suppose, if they were put into action but for one day, the world would come to an end[99].'
Was he not poking fun at other hypotheses besides his own?
Darwin's real scientific education began when, after some hesitation on his father's part, he was allowed to accept the invitation, made to him through his friend Henslow, to accompany, at his own expense, the surveying s.h.i.+p _Beagle_ in a cruise to South America and afterwards round the world. In the narrow quarters of the little 'ten-gun brig,'
he learned methodical habits and how best to economise s.p.a.ce and time; during his long expeditions on sh.o.r.e, rendered possible by the work of a surveying vessel, he had ample opportunities for observing and collecting; and, above all, the absence of the distractions from quiet meditation, afforded by a long sea-voyage, proved in his case invaluable. Very diligently did he work, acc.u.mulating a vast ma.s.s of notes, with catalogues of the specimens he sent home from time to time to Henslow. He had received no careful biological training, and Huxley considered that the voluminous notes he made on zoological subjects were almost useless[100]. Very different was the case, however, with his geological notes. He had learned to use the blowpipe, and simple microscope, as well as his hammer and clinometer; and the notes which he made concerning his specimens, before packing them up for Cambridge, were at the same time full, accurate and suggestive.
Darwin has recorded in his autobiography the wonderful effect produced on his mind by the reading of the first volume of Lyell's _Principles_--an effect very different from that antic.i.p.ated by Henslow[101]. From that moment he became the most enthusiastic of geologists, and never fails in his letters to insist on his preference for geology over all other branches of science. Again and again we find him recording observations that he thinks will 'interest Mr Lyell' and he says in another letter:--
'I am become a zealous disciple of Mr Lyell's views, as known in his admirable book. Geologising in South America, I am tempted to carry parts to a greater extent even than he does[102].'
Before reaching home after his voyage, the duration of which was fortunately extended from two to five years, he had sent home letters asking to be elected a fellow of the Geological Society; and, immediately on his arrival, he gave up his zoological specimens to others and devoted his main energies for ten years to the working up of his geological notes and specimens.
It may seem strange that the grandson of Erasmus Darwin should in early life have felt little or no interest in the question of the 'Origin of Species,' but such was certainly the case. He tells us in his autobiography that he had read his grandfather's _Zoonomia_ in his youth, without its producing any effect on him, and when at Edinburgh he says he heard his friend Robert Grant (afterwards Professor of Zoology in University College, London) as they were walking together 'burst forth in high admiration of Lamarck and his views on Evolution'--yet Darwin adds 'I listened in silent astonishment, and as far as I can judge without any effect on my mind[103].'
The reason of this indifference towards his grandfather's works is obvious. All through his life, Darwin, like Lyell, showed a positive distaste for all speculation or theorising that was not based on a good foundation of facts or observations. In this respect, the att.i.tude of Darwin's mind was the very opposite of that of Herbert Spencer--who, Huxley jokingly said, would regard as a 'tragedy'--'the killing of a beautiful theory by an ugly fact.' Darwin tells us himself that, while on his first reading of _Zoonomia_ he 'greatly admired' it--evidently on literary grounds--yet 'on reading it a second time after an interval of ten or fifteen years, I was much disappointed; _the proportion of speculation being so large to the facts given_.' Huxley who knew Charles Darwin so well in later years said of him that:--
'He abhors mere speculation as nature abhors a vacuum. He is as greedy of cases and precedents as any const.i.tutional lawyer, and all the principles he lays down are capable of being brought to the test of observation and experiment[104].'
What then, we may ask, were the facts and observations which turned Darwin's mind towards the great problem that came to be the work of his after life? I think it is possible from the study of his letters and other published writings to give an answer to this very interesting question.
In November 1832, Darwin returned to Monte Video, from a long journey in the interior of the South American Continent, bringing with him many zoological specimens and a great quant.i.ty of fossil bones, teeth and scales, dug out by him with infinite toil from the red mud of the Pampas--these fossils evidently belonging to the geological period that immediately preceded that of the existing creation. The living animals represented in his collection were all obviously very distinct from those of Europe--consisting of curious sloths, anteaters, and armadilloes--the so-called 'Edentata' of naturalists. And when young Darwin came to examine and compare his _fossil_ bones, teeth and scales he found that they too must have belonged to animals (megatherium, mylodon, glyptodon, etc.) quite distinct from but of strikingly similar structure to those now living in South America. What could be the meaning of this wonderful a.n.a.logy? If Cuvier and his fellow Catastrophists were correct in their view that, at each 'revolution'
taking place on the earth's surface, the whole batch of plants and animals was swept out of existence, and the world was restocked with a 'new creation,' why should the brand-new forms, at any particular locality, have such a 'ghost-like' resemblance to those that had gone before? It is interesting to note that, just at the same time, a similar discovery was made with respect to Australia. In caves in that country, a number of bones were found which, though evidently belonging to 'extinct' animals, yet must have belonged to forms resembling the kangaroos and other 'pouched animals' (marsupials) now so distinctive of that continent. But of this fact Darwin was not aware until after his return to England in 1836.
Among the objects sent from home, which awaited Darwin on his return to Monte Video, was the second volume of Lyell's _Principles_, then newly published; this book, while rejecting Lamarckism, was crowded with facts and observations concerning variation, hybridism, the struggle for existence, and many other questions bearing on the great problem of the origin of species. I think there can be no doubt that from this time Darwin came to regard the question of species with an interest he had never felt before.
It is of course not suggested that, at this early date, Darwin had formed any definite ideas as to the _mode_ in which new species might possibly arise from pre-existing ones or even that he had been converted to a belief in evolution. Indeed in 1877 he wrote 'When I was on board the _Beagle_ I believed in the permanence of species' yet he adds 'but as far as I can remember _vague doubts_ occasionally flitted across my mind.' Such 'vague doubts' could scarcely have failed to have arisen when, as happened during all his journeys from north to south of the South American Continent, he found the same curious correspondence between existing and late fossil forms of life again and again ill.u.s.trated.
But towards the end of the voyage, an even stronger element of doubt as to the immutability of species was awakened in his mind. When he came to study the forms of life existing in the Galapagos Islands, off the west coast of South America, he was startled by the discovery of the following facts. Each small island had its own 'fauna' or a.s.semblage of animals--this being very strikingly shown in the case of the reptiles and birds. And yet, though the _species_ were different, there was obviously a very wonderful 'family likeness' to one another between the forms in the several islands and between them all and the animals living in the adjoining portion of the continent. Surely this could not be accidental, but must indicate relations.h.i.+ps due to descent from common ancestors!