Charles Darwin Autobiography
Charles Darwin AutobiographyPREFACECAMBRIDGE 1828-1831."VOYAGE OF THE 'BEAGLE' FROM DECEMBER 27, 1831, TO OCTOBER 2, 1836."FROM MY RETURN TO ENGLAND (OCTOBER 2, 1836) TO MY MARRIAGE (JANUARY 29,FROM MY MARRIAGE, JANUARY 29, 1839, AND RESIDENCE IN UPPER GOWER STREET,RESIDENCE AT DOWN FROM SEPTEMBER 14, 1842, TO THE PRESENT TIME, 1876.MY SEVERAL PUBLICATIONS.WRITTEN MAY 1ST, 1881.Copyright
Charles Darwin Autobiography
Charles Darwin
PREFACE
My father's autobiographical recollections, given in the
present chapter, were written for his children,—and written without
any thought that they would ever be published. To many this may
seem an impossibility; but those who knew my father will understand
how it was not only possible, but natural. The autobiography bears
the heading, 'Recollections of the Development of my Mind and
Character,' and end with the following note:—"Aug. 3, 1876. This
sketch of my life was begun about May 28th at Hopedene (Mr.
Hensleigh Wedgwood's house in Surrey.), and since then I have
written for nearly an hour on most afternoons." It will easily be
understood that, in a narrative of a personal and intimate kind
written for his wife and children, passages should occur which must
here be omitted; and I have not thought it necessary to indicate
where such omissions are made. It has been found necessary to make
a few corrections of obvious verbal slips, but the number of such
alterations has been kept down to the minimum.—F.D.A German Editor having written to me for an account of the
development of my mind and character with some sketch of my
autobiography, I have thought that the attempt would amuse me, and
might possibly interest my children or their children. I know that
it would have interested me greatly to have read even so short and
dull a sketch of the mind of my grandfather, written by himself,
and what he thought and did, and how he worked. I have attempted to
write the following account of myself, as if I were a dead man in
another world looking back at my own life. Nor have I found this
difficult, for life is nearly over with me. I have taken no pains
about my style of writing.I was born at Shrewsbury on February 12th, 1809, and my
earliest recollection goes back only to when I was a few months
over four years old, when we went to near Abergele for sea-bathing,
and I recollect some events and places there with some little
distinctness.My mother died in July 1817, when I was a little over eight
years old, and 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. In the spring of this same year I was sent
to a day-school in Shrewsbury, where I stayed a year. I have been
told that I was much slower in learning than my younger sister
Catherine, and I believe that I was in many ways a naughty
boy.By the time I went to this day-school (Kept by Rev. G. Case,
minister of the Unitarian Chapel in the High Street. Mrs. Darwin
was a Unitarian and attended Mr. Case's chapel, and my father as a
little boy went there with his elder sisters. But both he and his
brother were christened and intended to belong to the Church of
England; and after his early boyhood he seems usually to have gone
to church and not to Mr. Case's. It appears ("St. James' Gazette",
Dec. 15, 1883) that a mural tablet has been erected to his memory
in the chapel, which is now known as the 'Free Christian Church.')
my taste for natural history, and more especially for collecting,
was well developed. I tried to make out the names of plants (Rev.
W.A. Leighton, who was a schoolfellow of my father's at Mr. Case's
school, remembers his bringing a flower to school and saying that
his mother had taught him how by looking at the inside of the
blossom the name of the plant could be discovered. Mr. Leighton
goes on, "This greatly roused my attention and curiosity, and I
enquired of him repeatedly how this could be done?"—but his lesson
was naturally enough not transmissible.—F.D.), 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 brother ever had this
taste.One little event during this year has fixed itself very
firmly in my mind, and I hope that it has done so from my
conscience having been afterwards sorely troubled by it; it is
curious as showing that apparently I was interested at this early
age in the variability of plants! I told another little boy (I
believe it was Leighton, who afterwards became a well-known
lichenologist and botanist), that I could produce variously
coloured polyanthuses and primroses by watering them with certain
coloured fluids, which was of course a monstrous fable, and had
never been tried by me. I may here also confess that as a little
boy I was much given to inventing deliberate falsehoods, and this
was always done for the sake of causing excitement. For instance, I
once gathered much valuable fruit from my father's trees and hid it
in the shrubbery, and then ran in breathless haste to spread the
news that I had discovered a hoard of stolen fruit.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 we 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.I can say in my own favour that I was as a boy humane, but I
owed this entirely to the instruction and example of my sisters. I
doubt indeed whether humanity is a natural or innate quality. I was
very fond of collecting eggs, but I never took more than a single
egg out of a bird's nest, except on one single occasion, when I
took all, not for their value, but from a sort of
bravado.I had a strong taste for angling, and would sit for any
number of hours on the bank of a river or pond watching the float;
when at Maer (The house of his uncle, Josiah Wedgwood.) I was told
that I could kill the worms with salt and water, and from that day
I never spitted a living worm, though at the expense probably of
some loss of success.Once as a very little boy whilst at the day school, or before
that time, I acted cruelly, for I beat a puppy, I believe, simply
from enjoying the sense of power; but the beating could not have
been severe, for the puppy did not howl, of which I feel sure, as
the spot was near the house. This act lay heavily on my conscience,
as is shown by my remembering the exact spot where the crime was
committed. It probably lay all the heavier from my love of dogs
being then, and for a long time afterwards, a passion. Dogs seemed
to know this, for I was an adept in robbing their love from their
masters.I remember clearly only one other incident during this year
whilst at Mr. Case's daily school,—namely, the burial of a dragoon
soldier; and it is surprising how clearly I can still see the horse
with the man's empty boots and carbine suspended to the saddle, and
the firing over the grave. This scene deeply stirred whatever
poetic fancy there was in me.In the summer of 1818 I went to Dr. Butler's great school in
Shrewsbury, and remained there for seven years still 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 foot-path
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.Nothing could have been worse for the development of my mind
than Dr. Butler's school, as it was strictly classical, nothing
else being taught, except a little ancient geography and history.
The school as a means of education to me was simply a blank. During
my whole life I have been singularly incapable of mastering any
language. Especial attention was paid to verse-making, and this I
could never do well. I had many friends, and got together a good
collection of old verses, which by patching together, sometimes
aided by other boys, I could work into any subject. Much attention
was paid to learning by heart the lessons of the previous day; this
I could effect with great facility, learning forty or fifty lines
of Virgil or Homer, whilst I was in morning chapel; but this
exercise was utterly useless, for every verse was forgotten in
forty-eight hours. I was not idle, and with the exception of
versification, generally worked conscientiously at my classics, not
using cribs. The sole pleasure I ever received from such studies,
was from some of the odes of Horace, which I admired
greatly.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.Looking back as well as I can at my character during my
school life, the only qualities which at this period promised well
for the future, were, that I had strong and diversified tastes,
much zeal for whatever interested me, and a keen pleasure in
understanding any complex subject or thing. I was taught Euclid by
a private tutor, and I distinctly remember the intense satisfaction
which the clear geometrical proofs gave me. I remember, with equal
distinctness, the delight which my uncle gave me (the father of
Francis Galton) by explaining the principle of the vernier of a
barometer with respect to diversified tastes, independently of
science, I was fond of reading various books, and I used to sit for
hours reading the historical plays of Shakespeare, generally in an
old window in the thick walls of the school. I read also other
poetry, such as Thomson's 'Seasons,' and the recently published
poems of Byron and Scott. I mention this because later in life I
wholly lost, to my great regret, all pleasure from poetry of any
kind, including Shakespeare. In connection with pleasure from
poetry, I may add that in 1822 a vivid delight in scenery was first
awakened in my mind, during a riding tour on the borders of Wales,
and this has lasted longer than any other aesthetic
pleasure.