he could tell us on every insect, shell, or fossil collected, for he had attended to every branch of natural history. After our day’s work we used to dine at some inn or house, and most jovial we then were. I believe all who joined these excursions will agree with me that they have left an enduring impression of delight on our minds.

“As time passed on at Cambridge I became very intimate with Professor Henslow, and his kindness was unbounded; he continually asked me to his house, and allowed me to accompany him in his walks. He talked on all subjects, including his deep sense of religion, and was entirely open. I owe more than I can express to this excellent man. His kindness was steady. When Captain Fitzroy offered to give up part of his own cabin to any naturalist who would join the expedition in H.M.S. Beagle, Professor Henslow recommended me as one who knew very little, but who, he thought, would work. I was strongly attached to natural history, and this attachment I owed in large part to him. During the five years’ voyage he regularly corresponded with me, and guided my efforts; he received, opened, and took care of all the specimens sent home in many large boxes; but I firmly believe that, during these five years, it never once crossed his mind that he was acting towards me with unusual and generous kindness.

“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 principle came into play no power on earth could have turned him one hair’s breadth....

“In intellect, as far as I could judge, accurate powers of observation, sound sense, and cautious judgment seemed predominant. Nothing seemed to give him so much enjoyment as drawing conclusions from minute observations. But his admirable memoir on the geology of Anglesea shows his capacity for extended observations and broad views. Reflecting over his character with gratitude and reverence, his moral attributes rise, as they should do in the highest character, in pre-eminence over his intellect.”

The young man’s modesty is conspicuous in the above narrative. He does not see how his own transparent candour, his desire to learn, his respect for those who were already masters of science, won upon the great men with whom he came in contact. It was by no means as “one who knew very little” that Henslow recommended Darwin to Captain Fitzroy, but as “a young man of promising ability, extremely fond of geology, and indeed all branches of natural history.” “In consequence,” says Fitzroy, “an offer was made to Mr. Darwin to be my guest on board, which he accepted conditionally. Permission was obtained for his embarkation, and an order given by the Admiralty that he should be borne on the ship’s books for provisions. The conditions asked by Mr. Darwin were, that he should be at liberty to leave the Beagle and retire from the expedition when he thought proper, and that he should pay a fair share of the expenses of my table.”

Darwin had taken an ordinary or “poll” degree in 1831 and was admitted a Master of Arts in 1837. In the interval he had become truly a Master of Science, which at that time was adequately recognised by no university in the British dominions. The memorable voyage of the Beagle, a little barque of 242 tons, was at first delayed by heavy gales which twice drove her back; but she finally sailed from Devonport on December 27, 1831. The object of the expedition was to complete the survey of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, to survey the shores of Chili, Peru, and some Pacific Islands, and to carry a chain of chronometrical measurements round the world.

Professor Henslow’s interest in his young pupil’s progress is shown by the fact that in 1835 (December 1) he printed some extracts from his letters, for distribution among the members of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, in consequence of the notice excited by some geological observations they contained, which had been read before the society on the 16th of November previous. The following points having a personal reference to the traveller may be quoted. On August 15, 1832, Darwin wrote from Monte Video, “I might collect a far greater number of specimens of invertebrate animals if I took up less time over each: but I have come to the conclusion that two animals with their original colour and shape noted down will be more valuable to naturalists than six with only dates and place.” Here we see the accuracy which was the source of much of his after-success. On November 24, 1832, he writes from the same place, “As for one little toad, I hope it may be new, that it may be christened ‘Diabolicus.’ Milton must allude to this very individual, when he talks of ‘squat like a toad.’” In March, 1834, writing from East Falkland Island, he says, “The whole of the east coast of the southern part of South America has been elevated from the ocean since a period during which mussels have not lost their blue colour.” Describing his examination of the central peaks of the Andes in Chili, he says, April 18, 1835, “I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed some of these views; it is worth coming from England, once to feel such intense delight. At an elevation of from ten to twelve thousand feet, there is a transparency in the air, and a confusion of distances, and a sort of stillness, which give the sensation of being in another world.”

Coming now to Darwin’s Journal as first published in 1839, forming the third volume of Fitzroy’s narrative, the 7th of January, 1832, on which the Peak of Teneriffe was seen suddenly illumined, while the lower parts were veiled in fleecy clouds, is noted as “the first of many delightful days never to be forgotten.” On the 16th the Cape de Verde Islands were reached, and their volcanic geology was carefully explored. Darwin was already equipped with the first volume of Lyell’s famous “Principles of Geology,” published in 1830, the second following in 1832; and in the second edition of his journal, published in 1845, he acknowledges with grateful pleasure “that the chief part of whatever scientific merit this journal and the other works of the author may possess, has been derived from studying the well-known and admirable ‘Principles of Geology.’” He was already noting the diffusion of minute organisms and impalpable dust by winds,4 and was much surprised to find in some dust collected on a vessel 300 miles from land particles of stone more than a thousandth of an inch square. After this, he remarks, one need not be surprised at the diffusion of the far lighter and smaller sporules of cryptogamous plants.

The volcanic island of St. Paul in the open Atlantic was touched at on February 16th, and it afforded the young naturalist a text for destroying the pretty ideas as to stately palms and birds taking possession of newly-formed oceanic land; at any rate, here were only two species of sea birds, no plants, and the fauna was completed by a number of insects and spiders of no very exalted habits. Fernando Noronha was passed on February 20th, and at last the South American continent was