Letters of Asa Gray; Vol. 2

by Asa Gray

Cambridge, February 26, 1882.

My dear Sir Edward,—It is high time that I thanked you for a very pleasant letter which at the beginning of the year you kindly wrote me from Failand House, a place which is very green in our memories. It reached us at Washington, where, with Mrs. Gray as my inseparable companion, I went to attend the annual meeting of the regents of the Smithsonian Institution. We were away from home little more than a week, and even in that time we managed to bring in a little visit to friends in Philadelphia.

This miserable trial of Guiteau, of which you already knew unpleasant particulars, was still in progress; but I did not go near the court-room, and could not readily have been induced to do so. The day after I received your letter I met an acquaintance, one of the judges of the Court of Claims (a court for trying claims against the United States government preferred by citizens or others, and much is it to be wished that a mass of claims presented to Congress and cumbering its committees could be passed over to this court), and I drew him into conversation upon the scandal which the trial was causing. He spoke of Judge Cox as a man of ability and high character, referred to the impossibility of shutting the prisoner’s mouth, the expectation that the man’s prolonged revelation of himself before the jury would throw more light upon the case than any amount of expert testimony, which I think was expected to be more contradictory than it actually was, and of the determination to leave no ground for the ordering of a new trial. My friend told me he had been twice in the courtroom, thought the judge might and should have exercised more control, yet that what he saw and heard did not appear to him at the time so indecorous and offensive as it appeared when presented in the newspapers. Indeed, this sensational newspaper reporting is a huge nuisance, and in respect to these matters our highest-class daily papers are little better than the lowest. I suppose the telegraph reporting for the press is all done by one set of men, and the more sensational the reports the more welcome to the papers, which, with few exceptions, print without any selection or discrimination.

I have settled down to my work with enjoyment, but with a growing sense of discouragement growing out of an embarras de richesses. It was natural to find here a great accumulation of collections of North American plants, all needing examination; but unfortunately, they continue to come in faster than I can study and dispose of them. This comes from the increasing number of botanical explorers, and the new facilities offered to them by new railroads along our southwestern frontiers and other out-of-the-way regions. The consequence is, that while new and interesting things are pouring in, which one must attend to, and which are very enjoyable, I do not get ahead with the steady and formidable work of the “North American Flora.” I begin to think it were a happier lot to have the comparatively completed botany of an old country to study, in which your work “were done when ’twere done,” and in which, even if it were not done quickly, you were not called on to do it over and over, to bring the new into shape and symmetry with the old.

By the way, I finally wrote out an article on a question which you once treated, and upon which we more than once conversed, taking for my text a paragraph in Lubbock’s address at York last summer. I had partly promised Mr. Walter Browne to write it, so I sent it to him; and as a proof from the “Contemporary Review” has come back to me, I suppose it may be printed before long.[124] I shall be curious to know what you think of it.

I sent you a portion of a New York religious newspaper containing a sort of review of two books with which I beguiled the voyage last October or November. It is of no great consequence. But I sometimes write such reviews or articles to papers of this kind, which are endeavoring to do their best in bridging over the gap between the thoughts of a former generation, or of our younger days, and of the present day. I believe such articles are now and then helpful.

You supposed that I had seen the “Lyell’s Life and Letters” sooner than I had. To my surprise the volumes are not reprinted in America; and I have only just succeeded in procuring a copy from England.

I have read a good deal of it, and with much interest. The allusion to me, which you referred to, was of course very pleasant. The last chapter of the “Antiquity of Man” had apprised me (for I never had any direct correspondence with Lyell) that we thought much alike on such matters; and we are apt to approve views which agree with our own. I always thought Lyell a very level-headed man,—one with a very judicial turn of mind; and his letters and journal bring this out well, as they do the whole life and the charming character of the man. It is interesting to see how early he took the line which he followed in his whole life’s work, and which has changed the face of geology and philosophical natural history. For, indeed, Lyell is as much the father of the new mode of thought which now prevails as is Darwin. I have said a word about this, which I will try to send you.

That is a noble letter to Mr. Spedding, about the American war. We knew that was in him. During the time of trouble, our then minister in London, Mr. Adams, and Mrs. Adams used to say that Sir Charles and Lady Lyell were almost their only, and their very stanch and efficient supporters.

If you happen to know who the author of “The New Analogy,” by Cellarius, is, I beg you will let me know. Although as a whole it may not amount to much, there are some capital hits in it.