I pity you the infliction of this most unmerciful letter. Pray remember me most kindly to Mrs. Lyell when you arrive at Kinnordy. Tell Mrs. Lyell to read the second series of 'Mr. Slick of Slickville's Sayings.'... He almost beats 'Samivel,' that prince of heroes. Good night, my dear Lyell; you will think I have been drinking some strong drink to write so much nonsense, but I did not even taste Minerva's small beer to-day....
A record of what he wrote during the year 1838 would not give a true index of the most important work that was in progress—the laying of the foundation-stones of what was to be the achievement of his life. This is shown in the following passages from a letter to Lyell (September), and from a letter to Fox, written in June:—
"I wish with all my heart that my Geological book was out. I have every motive to work hard, and will, following your steps, work just that degree of hardness to keep well. I should like my volume to be out before your new edition of the Principles appears. Besides the Coral theory, the volcanic chapters will, I think, contain some new facts. I have lately been sadly tempted to be idle—that is, as far as pure geology is concerned—by the delightful number of new views which have been coming in thickly and steadily—on the classification and affinities and instincts of animals—bearing on the question of species. Note-book after note-book has been filled with facts which begin to group themselves clearly under sub-laws."
"I am delighted to hear you are such a good man as not to have forgotten my questions about the crossing of animals. It is my prime hobby, and I really think some day I shall be able to do something in that most intricate subject, species and varieties."
In the winter of 1839 (Jan. 29) my father was married to his cousin, Emma Wedgwood.[107] The house in which they lived for the first few years of their married life, No. 12 Upper Gower Street, was a small common-place London house, with a drawing-room in front, and a small room behind, in which they lived for the sake of quietness. In later years my father used to laugh over the surpassing ugliness of the furniture, carpets, &c., of the Gower Street house. The only redeeming feature was a better garden than most London houses have, a strip as wide as the house, and thirty yards long. Even this small space of dingy grass made their London house more tolerable to its two country-bred inhabitants.
Of his life in London he writes to Fox (October 1839): "We are living a life of extreme quietness; Delamere itself, which you describe as so secluded a spot, is, I will answer for it, quite dissipated compared with Gower Street. We have given up all parties, for they agree with neither of us; and if one is quiet in London, there is nothing like its quietness—there is a grandeur about its smoky fogs, and the dull distant sounds of cabs and coaches; in fact you may perceive I am becoming a thorough-paced Cockney, and I glory in the thought that I shall be here for the next six months."
The entries of ill health in the Diary increase in number during these years, and as a consequence the holidays become longer and more frequent.
The entry under August 1839 is: "Read a little, was much unwell and scandalously idle. I have derived this much good, that nothing is so intolerable as idleness."
At the end of 1839 his first child was born, and it was then that he began his observations ultimately published in the Expression of the Emotions. His book on this subject, and the short paper published in Mind,[108] show how closely he observed his child. He seems to have been surprised at his own feeling for a young baby, for he wrote to Fox (July 1840): "He [i.e. the baby] is so charming that I cannot pretend to any modesty. I defy anybody to flatter us on our baby, for I defy anyone to say anything in its praise of which we are not fully conscious.... I had not the smallest conception there was so much in a five-month baby. You will perceive by this that I have a fine degree of paternal fervour."
In 1841 some improvement in his health became apparent; he wrote in September:—