SCIENCE AND TRAVEL—THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE
Sir Charles Lyell, in his Principles of Geology, the first edition of which appeared in 1830-1833, says: "If it be true that delivery be the first, second, and third requisite in a popular orator, it is no less certain that travel is of first, second, and third importance to those who desire to originate just and comprehensive views concerning the structure of our globe." The value of travel to science in general might very well be illustrated by Lyell's own career, his study of the mountainous regions of France, his calculation of the recession of Niagara Falls and of the sedimentary deposits of the Mississippi, his observations of the coal formations of Nova Scotia, and of the composition of the Great Dismal Swamp of Virginia—suggestive of the organic origin of the carboniferous rocks.
Although it is not with Lyell that we have here principally to deal, it is not irrelevant to say that the main purpose of his work was to show that all past changes in the earth's crust are referable to causes now in operation. Differing from Hutton as to the part played in those changes by subterranean heat, Lyell agreed with his forerunner in ascribing geological transformations to "the slow agency of existing causes." He was, in fact, the leader of the uniformitarians and opposed those geologists who held that the contemporary state of the earth's crust was owing to a series of catastrophes, stupendous exhibitions of natural force to which recent history offered no parallel. Also enlightened as to the significance of organic remains in stratified rock, Lyell in 1830 felt the need of further knowledge in reference to the relation of the plants and animals represented in the fossils to the fauna and flora now existing.
It is to Lyell's disciple, Charles Darwin, however, that we turn for our main illustration of the value of travel for comprehensive scientific generalization. Born, like another great liberator, on February 12, 1809, Darwin was only twenty-two years old when he received appointment as naturalist on H.M.S. Beagle, about to sail from Devonport on a voyage around the world. The main purpose of the expedition, under command of the youthful Captain Fitzroy, three or four years older than Darwin, was to make a survey of certain coasts in South America and the Pacific Islands, and to carry a line of chronometrical measurements about the globe. Looking back in 1876 on this memorable expedition, the naturalist wrote, "The voyage of the Beagle has been by far the most important event in my life, and has determined my whole career." In spite of the years he had spent at school and college he regarded this experience as the first real training or education of his mind.
Darwin had studied medicine at Edinburgh, but found surgery distasteful. He moved to Cambridge, with the idea of becoming a clergyman of the Established Church. As a boy he had attended with his mother, daughter of Josiah Wedgwood, the Unitarian services. At Cambridge he graduated without distinction at the beginning of 1831. It should be said, however, that the traditional studies were particularly ill suited to his cast of mind, that he had not been idle, and had developed particular diligence in different branches of science, and above all as a collector.
He was six feet tall, fond of shooting and hunting, and able to ride seventy-five or eighty miles without tiring. He had shown himself at college fond of company, and a little extravagant. He was, though a sportsman, extremely humane; had a horror of inflicting pain, and such repugnance at the thought of slavery that he quarreled violently with Captain Fitzroy when the latter condoned the abomination. Darwin was not, however, of a turbulent disposition. Sir James Sulivan, who had accompanied the expedition as second lieutenant, said many years after: "I can confidently express my belief that during the five years in the Beagle, he was never known to be out of temper, or to say one unkind or hasty word of or to any one."
Darwin's father was remarkable for his powers of observation, while the grandfather, Erasmus Darwin, is well known for his tendency to speculation. Charles Darwin possessed both these mental characteristics in an eminent degree. One who has conversed with him reports that what impressed him most in meeting the great naturalist was his clear blue eyes, which seemed to possess almost telescopic vision, and that the really remarkable thing about Darwin was that he saw more than other people. At the same time it will scarcely be denied that his vision was as much marked by insight as by careful observation, that his reasoning was logical and singularly tenacious, and his imagination vivid. It was before this supreme seer that the panorama of terrestrial creation was displayed during a five years' voyage.
No one can read Darwin's Journal descriptive of the voyage of the Beagle and continue to entertain any doubts in reference to his æsthetic sense and poetic appreciation of the various moods of nature. Throughout the voyage the scenery was for him the most constant and highest source of enjoyment. His emotions responded to the glories of tropical vegetation in the Brazilian forests, and to the sublimity of Patagonian wastes and the forest-clad hills of Tierra del Fuego. "It is easy," writes the gifted adolescent, "to specify the individual objects of admiration in these grand scenes; but it is not possible to give an adequate idea of the higher feelings of wonder, astonishment, and devotion, which fill and elevate the mind." Similarly, on the heights of the Andes, listening to the stones borne seaward day and night by the mountain torrents, Darwin remarked: "The sound spoke eloquently to the geologist; the thousands and thousands of stones, which striking against each other, made the one dull uniform sound, were all hurrying in one direction. It was like thinking on time, where the minute that now glides past is irrecoverable. So was it with these stones, the ocean is their eternity, and each note of that wild music told of one more step towards their destiny."
When the Beagle left Devonport, December 27, 1831, the young naturalist was without any theory, and when the ship entered Falmouth harbor, October 2, 1836, though he felt the need of a theory in reference to the relations of the various species of plants and animals, he had not formulated one. It was not till 1859 that his famous work on the Origin of Species appeared. He went merely as a collector, and frequently in the course of the voyage felt a young man's misgivings as to whether his collections would be of value to his Cambridge professors and other mature scientists.