LETTERS OF ASA GRAY

EDITED BY

JANE LORING GRAY

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1894
Copyright, 1893,
By JANE LORING GRAY.
All rights reserved.

NOTE.

It has been my aim, in collecting and arranging the “Letters” from Dr. Gray’s large correspondence, to show, as far as possible in his own words, his life and his occupation. The greater part of the immense mass of letters he wrote was necessarily purely scientific, uninteresting except to the person addressed; so that many of those published are merely fragments, and very few are given completely. I have made no attempt to estimate his scientific or critical labors, for they are sufficiently before the world in various printed works; but something of the personality of the man and his many interests may be learned from these familiar letters and from even the slight notes.

Dr. Gray began an Autobiography, but went no further than to give a brief sketch of his early life. This fragment is placed, with some notes illustrative of the early conditions in which his youth was passed, at the beginning of the work.

It is owing to the kind assistance of many friends that the Autobiography and Letters are thus presented; among whom should be especially mentioned Professors C. S. Sargent and Charles L. Jackson, Dr. W. G. Farlow, Mr. J. H. Redfield, and Mr. Horace E. Scudder.

J. L. GRAY.

Botanic Garden, Cambridge,
July 1, 1893.

CONTENTS.

Note on the Illustrations. The frontispiece portrait of Dr. Gray is a photogravure from a photograph taken in 1867. The portrait facing [page 286] is from a daguerreotype taken about 1841. The view of the Botanic Garden House, facing [page 358], is from a drawing by Isaac Sprague.

LETTERS OF ASA GRAY.

CHAPTER I.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
1810-1843.

My great-great-grandfather, John Gray, with his family, among which was Robert Gray, supposed to be one of his sons, emigrated from Londonderry, Ireland, to Worcester, Mass., being part of a Scotch-Irish colony.[1] The farm they took up was on the north side of what is now Lincoln Street.

Robert Gray, my great-grandfather, died in Worcester, January 16, 1766. He married Sarah Wiley[2] about the year 1729. They had ten children; the eighth was Moses Wiley Gray, my grandfather, born in Worcester, December 31, 1745. About the year 1769, he married Sally Miller, daughter of Samuel and Elisabeth (Hammond) Miller, of Worcester, and removed to Templeton, Mass. About 1787 he removed to Grafton, Vermont, where his wife died in 1793. In 1794 he removed to Oneida County, N. Y., and settled in the Sauquoit Valley,[3] where he died from injuries received from the fall of a tree, May 8, 1803.

My father, Moses Gray, was the youngest of the (eight?) children of his mother. There were three half-brothers and a half-sister by a second wife, born in Oneida County, none of whom survived my father. He was born in Templeton, Mass., February 26, 1786.[4] He was therefore in his eighteenth year when his father died. He used to say that he had only six weeks of schooling; whether before or after his father’s death I am ignorant. But soon after that event he was apprenticed to a tanner and currier (Mr. Gier) at Sauquoit, in whose employment he must have been for a part of the time after he came of age, for I was born in a little house which had been a shoe-shop on the premises of the tan-yard.

The fact of being born supposes a maternal ancestry. July 30, 1809, my father married Roxana Howard. She was born in Longmeadow, Mass., March 15, 1789; was a daughter of Joseph Howard, who was born in Pomfret, Conn., March 8, 1766, and of Submit (Luce) Howard, born at Somers, Conn., April 3, 1767;[5] and he was the grandson of John Howard of Ipswich,[6] Mass., and of Elisabeth Smith, of the same town. He was the descendant of Thomas Howard, who, with his wife and children, came from Aylesford (or Maidstone), Kent, in the year 1634.

My mother came with her parents to Oneida County and the Sauquoit Valley when only a few years old.[7] Her father there joined a company which set up an iron-forge. One of the early pieces of work of its trip-hammer was to forge off three of my maternal grandfather’s fingers. This appears to have qualified him to be the cleric in charge, or manager, of the office and store of the Paris Furnace Company, which established a small iron-smelting furnace on the Sauquoit, two and a half miles above the village of Sauquoit, in a deep and narrow valley which had the name of Paris Furnace Hollow, now called Clayville, the furnace long since having disappeared, a natural consequence of the exhaustion of the charcoal furnished by the woods of the surrounding hills. My earliest recollections are of Paris Furnace Hollow, for not long after I was born, as aforesaid, in Sauquoit, on the eastern or Methodist side of the creek, on the 18th of November, 1810, my father and mother removed to Paris Furnace with me, their first-born, and set up a small tannery there. Of this I retain some vivid recollections, especially those connected with the first use to which I was put, the driving round the ring of the old horse which turned the bark-mill, and the supplying the said mill with its grist of bark,—a lonely and monotonous occupation.[8] I was sent to the district school near by when three years old; and I either remember some of my performances of that or the next year, or have been told them in such way as to leave the matter doubtful.[9] My earliest distinct recollections of school are of spelling-matches, in which at six or seven years I was a champion.[10] There was a year or two of early boyhood in which I was sent to a small “select” or private school, taught at Sauquoit, by the son of the pastor of the parish; a year or two following, in which I was in my maternal grandfather’s family, near by, as a sort of office-boy; and at the age of twelve, or near it, I was sent off to the Clinton Grammar School, nine miles away, where I was drilled after a fashion in the rudiments of Latin and Greek for two years, excepting the three summer months, when I was taken home to assist in the corn and hayfield. For my father, buying up, little by little, lands which had been cleared for charcoal, had become a farmer in a small way, an occupation to which he was most inclined. So about these times he sold out the tannery and bought a small farm nearer to Sauquoit, mainly of the land which my maternal grandfather had settled on, including the house in which he had married my mother. To it he removed, and there resided until he bought out an adjacent small farm in addition, with an old house very pleasantly situated, which he rebuilt and lived in until after I had attained my majority. But soon after that he bought a small farm close to the Sauquoit village on the western or Presbyterian side, hard by the meeting-house the family had always attended. There my father indulged his special fancy by rebuilding another old house, and the place, after his death, and, much later, after that of my mother, fell to my eldest brother, who still possesses it.[11]

I am not sure, but I think it was after two years of the Clinton Grammar School that I was transferred to Fairfield Academy.[12] Fairfield, Herkimer County, lies high on the hills, between the West and East Canada creeks, seven miles north of Little Falls. I went there first in October, 1825, the date I fix by that of the completion of the Erie Canal. For that autumn, I think in November, I walked one afternoon, along with some other students, down to Little Falls to see there the arrival of the canal-boat which bore the canal-commissioners, with the governor, De Witt Clinton at their head, on their ceremonious voyage from Buffalo to New York city. It reached Little Falls near sunset, and we walked to Fairfield that evening. The reason for my being sent to Fairfield Academy was that the principal of the academy was Charles Avery, uncle of my companion from infancy, Eli Avery, of our town, who died two years ago, who had been educated by the help of Eli’s father, Colonel Avery, one of the owners of Paris furnace. Charles Avery several years later took the professorship of chemistry, etc., at Hamilton College, lived to over ninety, I think, and through all his later years seemed to be very proud of having been my teacher. I cannot say that I owe much to him, even for teaching me mathematics, which was his forte. My capital memory allowed me to “get my lessons” easily, and that sufficed; and I had none of the sharp drilling and testing which I needed. He lingers in my memory in another way. He was sharp at turning a penny in various ways; among them, he for the first year and more jobbed the board of his nephew Eli and myself, who were chums, paying for it in cooking-stoves and the like from Paris furnace, in which through his brother he had an interest, and boarding us round, from one house to another (we had our room in the academy buildings) until the stove which cooked our dinner was paid for. Sometimes our fare was good enough; but one poor widow, who took us in her turn, fed us so much upon boiled salt cod, not always of the sweetest, that the sight of that dish still calls up ancient memories not altogether agreeable. I think it was not at that time, but at a somewhat later date, and with less excuse, that we mended our diet upon one occasion, one winter’s night, by carrying off the principal’s best fowls from the roost, skinning them, as the most expeditious and neatest way, and broiling them in our room as the pièce de résistance, for they were tough, in a little supper we got up.

I here recall a favor which Mr. Avery did me. A year or two after I had taken my M. D., my dear old friend Professor Hadley, of Fairfield Medical College, who had been filling the place at Hamilton College pro tem., made me a candidate for the professorship there of chemistry, with geology and natural science. But my old teacher, Mr. Avery, an alumnus of the college, entered the lists and carried the day. I wonder if I should have rusted out there if I had got the place.

I must go back to say something of my omnivorous reading, which was, after all, the larger part of my education. I was a reader almost from my cradle, and I read everything I could lay hands on. There was no great choice in my early boyhood. But there was a little subscription library at Sauquoit, the stockholders of which met four times a year, distributed the books by auction to the highest bidder (maximum, perhaps, ten or twelve cents) to have and to hold for three months; or if there was no competition each took what he chose. Rather slow circulation this; but in the three months the books were thoroughly read. History I rather took to, but especially voyages and travels were my delight. There were no plays, not even Shakespeare in the library, but a sprinkling of novels. My novel-reading, up to the time when I was sent to school at Clinton, was confined, I think, to Miss Porter’s “Children of the Abbey” and “Thaddeus of Warsaw”—the latter a soul-stirring production, of which I can recall a good deal; of the former nothing distinctly. One Sunday afternoon, of the first winter I was at Clinton, I went into the public room of one of the two village inns, where half a dozen of the villagers were assembled; and one was reading aloud “Quentin Durward,” which had just appeared in an American (Philadelphia) reprint. This was my introduction to the Waverley novels. The next summer, when at home for farm work, I found “Rob Roy” in the little library I have mentioned, took it out and read it with interest. In the autumn, when I went back to school, some college (Hamilton College) students were boarding at the house where I boarded and lodged. One of them, seeing my avidity for books, introduced me to the librarian of the Phœnix Society of the college, which had a library strong in novels, which I was allowed, one by one, to take home for reading. I suppose that I read them every one.[13]

It was intended that I should go to college, and my father could have put me through without serious inconvenience; but he was buying land about this time, and he persuaded me to give up that idea and to go at once at the study of medicine, which I did, in the autumn of 1826, beginning with the session of 1826-27 in the medical college (of the western district), then a flourishing country medical school at Fairfield. I had already attended its courses in chemistry, given by Professor James Hadley (father of Professor James Hadley of Yale College, then a lad), my earliest scientific adviser and most excellent friend. I had a passion for mineralogy in those days, as well as for chemistry. The spring and summer of 1827 I passed in the office of one of the village doctors of Sauquoit, Dr. Priest, and on the opening of the autumn session returned to the medical school at Fairfield.[14] That year, in the course of the winter, I picked up and read the article “Botany” in Brewster’s “Edinburgh Encyclopædia,” a poor thing, no doubt, but it interested me much. I bought Eaton’s “Manual of Botany,”[15] pored over its pages, and waited for spring. Before the spring opened, the short college session being over, I became a medical student, after the country fashion, in the office of Dr. John F. Trowbridge of Bridgewater, Oneida County, nine miles south of my paternal home; continued there for three years, except during the college sessions, where I attended four annual courses before taking my degree of M. D. at the close of the session of 1829-30.[16] The fact will appear, which I did not reveal at the time, that I took this degree six or seven months (I passed my examination, indeed, eight or nine months) before I had attained the legal age of twenty-one. But I looked older, and was in fact such an old stager in the school that no one thought of asking if I was of age. That degree gives me my place high enough on the Harvard University list to entitle me to a free dinner at Commencement.

I have mentioned my interest in botany as beginning in the winter and out of all reach either of a greenhouse or of a potted plant. But in the spring, I think that of 1828, I sallied forth one April day into the bare woods, found an early specimen of a plant in flower, peeping through dead leaves, brought it home, and with Eaton’s “Manual” without much difficulty I ran it down to its name, Claytonia Virginica. (It was really C. Caroliniana, but the two were not distinguished in that book.) I was well pleased, and went on, collecting and examining all the flowers I could lay hands on; and the rides over the country to visit patients along with my preceptor, Dr. Trowbridge, gave good opportunities. I began an herbarium of shockingly bad specimens. In autumn, going back to Fairfield for the annual course of medical lectures, I took specimens of those plants that puzzled me to Professor Hadley, who had learned some botany of Dr. Ives of New Haven, and had made a neat herbarium of the common New England and New York plants, which I studied carefully that winter. At Professor Hadley’s suggestion I opened a correspondence with Dr. Lewis C. Beck of Albany,[17] who was the botanist of the region. The next summer I collected more easily and critically. The summer after, I think, or probably the summer of 1830, I had an opportunity to make a little run to New York, being sent by Dr. Trowbridge to buy some medical books, driving in a one-horse wagon, with my own horse, ninety miles to Albany, thence by steamer to New York over night; one night there, and back next day by boat to Albany, and so driving back to Bridgewater in company with a man of business who joined me in this little expedition. I stopped to see Lewis C. Beck at Albany Academy; there I first saw a grave-looking man who I was told was Professor Henry, who had just been making a wonderful electro-magnet. I had procured from Professor Hadley a letter of introduction to Dr. Torrey, whose “Flora of the Northern United States,” vol. i., was our greatest help so far as it went, and which on that journey I bought a copy of. I took also a parcel of plants to be named. Finding my way to Dr. Torrey’s house in Charlton Street with my parcel and letter, I had the disappointment of finding that he was away at Williamstown, Massachusetts, for the summer. It was not until the next winter that at Fairfield I received a letter from Dr. Torrey, naming my plants, and inviting the correspondence which continued thence to the end of his life.

In addition to Dr. Hadley’s summer course of lectures on chemistry, Dr. Lewis C. Beck used to come and deliver a short course of lectures on botany. He gave this up the year in which I received my M. D., so Professor Hadley invited me to come and give the course instead. The course was given in five or six weeks, beginning in the latter part of May. I prepared myself during the winter, gave this my first course of lectures, cleared forty dollars by the operation, and devoted it to the making of a tour to the western part of the State of New York, as far as Niagara Falls, Buffalo, and Aurora,—a dozen or more miles off,—where I visited an uncle, my mother’s brother, a well-to-do country merchant, also a chum, Dr. Folwell, in Seneca County, high up between the two lakes, where I passed a week or two; thence to Ithaca, and across the country by a stage-coach back to Bridgewater. I hardly know what I did the next autumn and winter, but in early spring a Mr. Edgerton, a pupil of Amos Eaton, at Troy, the professor of natural sciences at the flourishing school of Mr. Bartlett at Utica, died. I applied for the vacancy, received the appointment, and for two or part of three years, minus a long summer vacation, I taught chemistry, geology, mineralogy, and botany, to boys, making with the boys very pleasant botanical excursions through the country round. My first summer vacation, if I rightly remember, was in cholera year, the disease being very fatal in Utica. About the time it made its appearance in New York I started off from Bridgewater, taking a little country stage-coach down the Unadilla to Pennsylvania; visited Carbondale and made a collection of calamites and fossil ferns; thence by stage-coach through the Wind Gap to Easton; thence out to Bethlehem, where I passed a day with old Bishop Schweinitz,[18] gave him a Carex which he said was new, but I told him it was Carex livida, Wahl. (and I was right); back to Easton; thence up to Sussex County, N. J., collecting minerals (Franklinite, etc.); thence to adjacent Orange County, N. Y., collecting spinelles, etc., as well as botanizing; thence down to New York early in September; there I met Dr. Torrey for the first time, and we took a little expedition together down to Tom’s River in the pine barrens, and back to New York in a wood-sloop.

The next year, in the spring, Dr. Torrey went to Europe, sent to purchase apparatus for the New York City University, then just established. He engaged me to go that summer to collect plants in the pine barrens of New Jersey, he to take the half of my collection, paying what would be required to defray my very moderate expenses in the field. I found afterwards that these plants went to B. D. Greene and his brother Copley, then abroad and full of botany; and I have encountered them, i. e., the specimens, in various places, especially in Herb. De Candolle, as “Coll. Greene.” I got down, I hardly now know how, to Tuckerton on the Jersey coast, botanized at Little Egg Harbor, Wading River, Quaker Bridge, and Atsion. While at Quaker Bridge my loneliness was cheered by the appearance of a fine-looking man, who came in a chaise, looking after some particular insect. It proved to be Major Le Conte.[19]

The next winter at Bartlett’s school. In the spring went north to Watertown; visited Dr. Crawe, botanized on Black River, made mineralogical excursions, and back to Utica via Sackett’s Harbor (lake to Oswego, and canal to Utica). After the spring term of school there—I think it was that year, but am uncertain—I took through the summer Professor Hadley’s place at Hamilton College, Clinton; gave for him a course of instruction in botany and mineralogy. This, I have reason to think, was a ruse of my good friend, who wished me to succeed to that professorship, which he was on the point of resigning. Fortunately, Charles Avery, my old academic preceptor, became a candidate and secured the election.

These years are a good deal mixed up, and I cannot settle their dates nor the order of events. Only I know that the next autumn I got a furlough from the school until toward the end of winter, that I might accept Dr. Torrey’s invitation to be his assistant during his course of chemical lectures in the Medical School, and at his house in the herbarium, living with him, and receiving eighty dollars as pay. This I can fix as the winter of 1833-34 or 1834-35. The first century of my “North American Gramineæ and Cyperaceæ” was got out that winter, and it bears the date of 1834.[20] In February or March I went up by stagecoach from New York to Albany, thence to Bridgewater, and so to Utica, to do my work at Bartlett’s school. That finished, made a second trip to the northeast part of the State, collecting in botany and mineralogy with Dr. Crawe, extending the tour to St. Lawrence County, where we found fine fluor-spar and great but rough crystals of phosphate of lime, idiocrase, etc. I wrote some account of these for the “American Journal of Science,” the earliest of my many contributions to that journal. Returning toward autumn to Bridgewater, I there received a letter from Dr. Torrey, informing me that the prospects of the Medical College were so poor that he could not longer afford to have my services as assistant. Bartlett’s school I had resigned from on account of my prospects in New York. And, in fact, the school was then going down, and he [Bartlett] was transferred soon after to Poughkeepsie, where he flourished anew for a time. I was in a rather bad way. But I determined to go to New York, assisted Dr. Torrey as I could, got out the second part of my “North American Gramineæ and Cyperaceæ.” I am not sure whether I was in Dr. Torrey’s family or not, or for only a part of the winter. But in the spring of 1835, I went up to my father’s house for the summer, with some books, among them a copy of De Candolle’s “Organographie” and “Théorie Elémentaire.” These or at least the former came from Professor Lehmann,[21] of Hamburg, with whom for a year or two I had corresponded and exchanged plants, or received books in exchange for plants. I had made a still earlier exchange with Soleirol, a French army surgeon, who had collected in Corsica. While at home I blocked out and partly wrote my “Elements of Botany.” Returned to New York in the autumn; went into cheap lodgings, arranged with Carvill & Company to take my book. I think they gave one hundred and fifty dollars, which was a great sum for me. We got it through the press that winter. John Carey had then come down to New York, and was a great help to me in proof-reading, and the little book was published in April or May, 1836.

I think it was in the autumn of 1836 that the Lyceum of Natural History, New York, having with a great effort erected their hall, on Broadway just below Prince Street, I was appointed curator; had a room for my use, some light pay, proportioned to light duties, and this was my home for a year or two. There I wrote my papers, “Remarks on the Structure and Affinities of the Ceratophyllaceæ” (which dates February 20, 1837),—not a very wise production, and some of the observations are incorrect; also the better paper, really rather good, “Melanthacearum Americæ Septentrionalis Revisio,” published in 1837.

Dr. Torrey had planned the “Flora of North America,” but had not made much solid progress in it. I, having time on my hands, took hold to work up in a preliminary way some of the earlier orders for his use. This was to pass the time for a while, for in the summer of 1836 I was appointed botanist to a great South Pacific exploring expedition, which met with all manner of delays in fitting out, changes in commanders, etc., until finally, in the spring of 1838, Lieutenant Wilkes was appointed to the command, the number and size of the vessels cut down, and the scientific corps more or less diminished. The assistant botanist, William Rich, an appointment of the Secretary of the Navy, was to be left out. I resigned in his favor, having been about that time appointed professor of natural history in the newly chartered University of Michigan. As I had thus far done fully half the work, Dr. Torrey invited me to be joint author in “Flora of North America.” The first part was printed and issued in July, the second in October, 1838, at our joint expense, my share being contributed from the pay I had been receiving while waiting orders as botanist of the exploring expedition.

By this time we had come to see that we did not know enough of the original sources to work up the North American flora properly, and as Dr. Torrey could not get away from home, I was determined to get abroad and consult some of the principal herbaria. On being appointed professor in the University of Michigan, which had as yet no buildings, I made it understood that I must have a year abroad. The trustees of the university in this view gave me, in the autumn of 1838, a year’s leave of absence, a salary for that year of fifteen hundred dollars, and put into my hands five thousand dollars with which to lay a foundation for their general library. I sailed early in November, 1838, in the packet-ship Philadelphia, for Liverpool; went direct from Liverpool to Glasgow; was guest of Dr. William J. Hooker till Christmas—his son, Joseph D. Hooker, was then a medical student; went to Arlary, December 26-7, to visit Arnott; stayed till the day after New Year; thence to Edinburgh for two or three days. Greville was the best botanist, but Graham was the professor, Balfour then a young botanist there. Heard old Monro, Wilson (Christopher North), Chalmers, Traill, Charles Bell, etc., lecture. On way south stopped at Melrose and Abbotsford; coach to Newcastle, Durham (over Sunday), and through Manchester, where rail was taken, to Birmingham and London. Took lodgings till some time in March. Dr. Boott was of course my best friend there. But Hooker and Joseph came up to London for a week. Hooker insisted on taking me in hand as of his party, and so I was introduced to all his friends; took me to the Royal Society, etc.; dined one day with Bentham, to whose house I often went, and who gave me a full supply of letters to the botanists on the Continent. I worked a good deal at the British Museum; Robert Brown was very kind to me, and his assistant, J. J. Bennett, very useful, putting me up to all the old collections and how to consult them. At Linnæan Society, thanks to Boott, had every facility for the Linnæan herbarium. Old Lambert too; he had the Hookers and myself at dinner, and gave me as good opportunity as he could to consult the Pursh plants, etc., in his herbarium, which, not long after, was scattered, but it was in his dining-room, which was very much lumbered, and to be reached only at certain hours. Lindley had me down for a day to his house at Turnham Green, and a little dinner at the close. First visited Kew with the Hookers; called on Francis Bauer, who lived in a house near the river; found him at ninety making beautiful microscopic drawings to illustrate the genera of ferns; and Hooker then arranged for their publication in the well-known volume for which he furnished the text. Saw not rarely N. B. Ward, who lived at Wellclose Square in Wapping, and whose cultivation of plants in closed cases attracted much attention. Went with Ward one day to dine with Menzies, then over ninety; he lived, with a housekeeper, at Maida Vale, or somewhere beyond Kensington.

George P. Putnam, of the firm of Wiley & Putnam, was then resident in London, and through him I managed the expenditure of the money placed in my hands for the purchase of books for the University of Michigan, in a manner that proved satisfactory.

There is still in my possession, but not in reach for ready reference, a file of letters which I wrote home to the Torrey family while I was in Europe. If I were to find them and refresh my memory by them, I should make these notes quite too long. I will therefore trust to memory and touch lightly here and there on my Continental journey. I think it was early in March, 1839, that one morning I took passage on a small steamer from London, Bentham coming to see me off, to Calais; thence diligence for Paris. My lodgings, near the Luxembourg, were not far from the house of P. Barker Webb, to whom I had introductions, and who was very useful to me; he owned the herbarium of Desfontaines. At the Jardin des Plantes were old Mirbel, who occupied himself only with vegetable anatomy, Adrien Jussieu, with whom I corresponded as long as he lived, Brongniart, Decaisne, then aide-naturaliste, and Spach, curator of the herbarium. Jussieu had his father’s herbarium in his study. Besides Michaux’s herbarium at the Jardin des Plantes, I had also to consult, for a few things, the set taken by the actual writer of the “Flora,” L. C. Richard. This I found at the house of his son Achille Richard, botanical professor in the Medical School, living in the Medical Botanic Garden, then occupying a piece of the Luxembourg grounds. The other French botanists I recall were Dr. Montagne, the cryptogamist, a pleasant man, Gaudichaud, whom I saw little of, Auguste St. Hilaire, who I think spent only the winter in Paris. I had an introduction to Benjamin Delessert, who lived in fine style in a hotel in the Rue Montmartre. Lasègue, the librarian, acted as curator to the herbarium (Guillemin had died not long before), which I found occasion to consult only once. I should not forget Jacques Gay, with his large herbarium very rich in European plants. I never dreamed then that so many of them would find their way into our own herbarium. He lived close to the Luxembourg Palace, then the palace of the House of Peers. Gay was the secretary of the Marquis de Semonville, who was a high official there, and so lived near by. He held a weekly reception for botanists, etc., and was a good soul. It was at the herbarium of the Jardin des Plantes that I first made the acquaintance of a botanist of about my own age, Edmond Boissier of Geneva, who was studying some of the plants of his collections in Granada and other parts of Spain, soon after brought out in his work on the “Flora of Granada,” etc.

I left Paris in early spring, by malle-poste to Lyons; passed a day with Seringe; steamer to Avignon, diligence to Nîmes, and thence to Montpellier, where I passed two or three days. Delile and Dunal were the professors; saw Bentham’s mother and sister, then resident there. Diligence to Marseilles, steamer to Genoa, Leghorn, a day at each; to Civita Vecchia; a carriage to Rome, along with an English clergyman; thence back same way to Leghorn, Pisa, Florence. Vetturino to Bologna, Ferrara, Padua (Visiani at the garden), Venice; then steamer to Trieste; a day with Biasoletto, including a botanical excursion, and Tommasini. Fell in there with a young artist of New York, whose name I have forgotten. We took places in the malle-poste together to Vienna, but went on two days ahead to Adelsberg; visited the grotto on a fête day when it was all lighted, and all the country people there in gala trim; that night went on by malle-poste. At Vienna, Endlicher, and his assistant Fenzl, but the latter laid up with lame knee. Never saw him afterward, but we had a long correspondence. Steamer up the Danube to Linz, tramway, etc., to the Gmunden See, and so to Ischl; climbed the Zeimitz, all alone, picked my first Alpine flowers; traveled over night to Salzburg, then to Munich; fine times with Martius and Zuccarini, joined the celebration out in the country of Linnæus’ birthday,—but not the 24th May; I think two or three weeks later. From Munich to Lindau on Lake Constance; thence to Zurich; up the lake to Horgen; walked over to Art; walked up the Rigi; descended the Rigi to take the boat up the lake, missed it, got a man to put me across in Canton Unterwalden; walked to Stanz, slept, walked next morning to Engelberg, and then over the [Joch?] Pass, and down to Meyringen; next day to Interlaken and the Staubbach, next over the Wengern Alp to Grindelwald, next over the Grand Scheideck to valley of Hassli, up to the Grimsel, passed a Sunday in the snow; walked down to the Rhone glacier and down to Brieg; thence partly on foot, partly char-à-banc, to Martigny; made excursion to the Col de Balme to get a good view of Mont Blanc; back to Martigny, down to Villeneuve, and steamer to Geneva. I reached there, I think, July 4; worked there ten days or so, very sharp; De Candolle, father and son, and Reuter[22] the curator; saw again Boissier. Leaving boat at Lausanne, diligence to Freiburg, Berne, Bâle. Got across country, I hardly remember how, to Tübingen, Stuttgart, Heidelberg, Frankfort; thence to Leipzig; made excursion to Dresden, then to Halle, where was Schlechtendal, and where I looked over old Schkuhr’s originals of his Carex plates; thence through Wittenberg to Potsdam and Berlin; worked diligently a week in herbarium. Willdenow, Klotzsch the curator; saw old Link, Kunth, and Ehrenberg. Diligence to Hamburg, where was Lehmann, one of my very earliest correspondents. Steamer from Hamburg to London, late in September. Toward the middle of October went to Portsmouth, and came back to New York in a London packet-ship. Steamers were then only just beginning to make regular trips.

Returning, Michigan University was quite ready to give me a furlough of a year or two, without pay; took hold sharp of “Flora of North America,” and in beginning of next summer (June, 1840) we issued the parts 3 and 4 of vol. i. Then went at the “Compositæ;” was interrupted a while in summer of 1841, when I went with John Carey, and James Constable for a part of the time, on a botanical trip up the Valley of Virginia to the mountains of North Carolina, getting as far as to Grandfather and Roan.

It was, I think, in the spring of 1841 that the first part of the “Compositæ” was published, i. e., vol. ii. pp. 1-184; the second part, to p. 400, was out the next spring. Sometime in January, 1842, I made a visit of two or three days to B. D. Greene in Boston; the first time I ever saw Boston. Came out one day to Cambridge, dined with his father-in-law, President Quincy; the company to meet us was Professor Channing[23] and Professor Treadwell.[24] Sometime in April, I received a letter from President Quincy, telling me that the Corporation of the university would elect me Fisher professor of natural history if I would beforehand signify my acceptance. The endowment then yielded fifteen hundred dollars a year. I was to have a thousand and allow the rest to accumulate for a while. Meanwhile I was to give only a course of botanical lectures, in the second spring term, and look after the Garden. But more work was soon added. I came in July, in the midst of vacation, before Commencement, which was then in September; got lodgings, with room for my then small herbarium, in the house of Deacon Munroe. Went late in September on an excursion to Mount Washington, by way of the Notch, along with Tuckerman, then living at his father’s in Boston. Worked away at “Compositæ,” and in the winter went to New York and carried the remainder through the press. it was issued in February, 1843.

I must not forget that my little “Elements of Botany” had been sold out, and the publishers, Carvill, had gone out of business or died. I prepared in 1841-42 the first edition of my “Botanical Text-Book;” it was in the course of printing when I was appointed to the Fisher professorship, so that I could put that title on the title-page, and have a text-book for my class.

My first session of college work was over about July 1, 1843. The treasurer, Mr. Samuel Eliot, had given me leave to spend a small sum in replenishing the Botanic Garden. I met my friend and correspondent, William S. Sullivant, who had taken strongly to mosses, early in August, on the Alleghanies beyond Frostburg, Maryland (the railroad went only to Cumberland), he coming from Columbus, Ohio, I from Cambridge. There we bought a span of horses and a strong country wagon, and set out on the mountain expedition, some sketch of which is given in the “American Journal of Science” for January, 1846. (The first journey is more particularly detailed in the “American Journal of Science,” xlii., no. 1; 1842?) When Sullivant left me, at Warm Springs on the French Broad, anxious to get home, I was left in a pretty lonely condition.

CHAPTER II.
EARLY UNDERTAKINGS.
1831-1838.

Dr. Gray’s autobiographical fragment closes abruptly, and is valuable chiefly for the glimpse which it gives of his ancestry and his boyhood. He kept no diary, but he carried on a voluminous correspondence, and his letters thus contain a record of his hard-working, eager life. The earliest tell of the struggle for position, his doubts if his loved science could furnish him a maintenance, and his resolution to make any sacrifice if he could devote himself to its study. His wants outside of appliances for scientific investigation were few, and he had a hopeful temper. He said in later life that when he was ready for anything it always came to him, and he never dwelt upon the hardships of his early years; indeed, he forgot them.

After leaving Fairfield Medical College he divided his years between teaching in Bartlett’s school in Utica (some of his old pupils still recall his field excursions with his class, and his eager delight in the search after plants), in journeys botanical and mineralogical, and in some shorter and longer stays in New York, where for a good portion of the time he was a member of Dr. John Torrey’s family. Dr. Torrey was a keen observer, a lively suggester of new theories and explanations, most eminently truthful in all inquiries, and a devout Christian. Mrs. Torrey was a woman of rare character, refined, of intellectual tastes and cultivation, great independence, extremely benevolent, and with a capacity for government and control. She was devotedly religious, not only for herself and her own household, but for all who could possibly come within her influence. It was a new experience to the country-bred young man, and she saw in him many capabilities of which he was as yet himself unconscious. He always said that in his development he owed much to her in many ways. She criticised and improved his manners, his tastes, his habits, and especially, together with Dr. Torrey, exercised a strong influence on his religious life. His parents and family were conscientious, good and faithful church members. But they were not people who talked much, and indeed had little direct oversight of their son after he was fourteen years old, when he left home. He never returned to the family roof after that for more than a few months at a time, and his youthful surroundings away from home were of very varied influence; some of them, though never vicious, were of a decidedly irreligious character. When he entered the Torrey family, the difference in the life, the contrast in the way of meeting trials and sorrows struck him forcibly, and the religious side of his nature was roused, a serious interest awakened, which from that time on made always a strong and permanent part of his character.

Dr. Torrey saw the ability of the young student, and writing to his friend, Professor Henry, in February, 1835, to see if a place could not be found for him at Princeton, says:—

“I wish we could find a place for my friend Gray in the college.... He has no superior in botany, considering his age, and any subject that he takes up he handles in a masterly manner.... He is an uncommonly fine fellow, and will make a great noise in the scientific world one of these days. It is good policy for the college to secure the services and affections of young men of talent, and let them grow up with the institution.... He would do great credit to the college; and he will be continually publishing. He has just prepared for publication in the Annals of the Lyceum two capital botanical papers.... Gray has a capital herbarium and collection of minerals. He understands most of the branches of natural history well, and in botany he has few superiors.”

His friend, Mr. John H. Redfield[25] recalling him in those early days, writes:—

“He had worked with Dr. Torrey in his herbarium in 1834 and in 1835, and in 1834 read his first paper before the Lyceum, a monograph of the North American Rhynchosporæ, which is still the best help we have for the study of that genus. His bachelor quarters were in the upper story of the building, and there he diligently employed the hours not occupied with other duties in studies and dissections, the results of which appeared in several elaborate contributions to the Annals. Dr. Gray’s residence in the building and his position as librarian brought him into frequent and pleasant intercourse with the members of the Lyceum, and in this way began my own acquaintance with him. The interest which he always manifested in making easy the openings to the paths of knowledge for the younger men impressed me greatly. In describing his manner I should use neither the terms ‘imperious’ or ‘impetuous,’ but enthusiastic eagerness would better express its characteristic. He had even then something of that hesitancy of speech which he sometimes manifested in later years, a hesitancy which seemed to arise from thoughts which crowded faster than words could be found for them, and I associate his manner of speaking then with a slight swing of the head from side to side, which my recollections of his later manner do not recall. In person he was unusually attractive, his face, bright, animated and expressive, lit up by eyes beaming with intellect and kindness.”

Dr. Gray began in 1834 his contributions to the “American Journal of Science.” His first paper, printed in May, was “A Sketch of the Mineralogy of a Portion of Jefferson and St. Lawrence Counties, N.Y., by J.B. Crawe of Watertown, and A. Gray of Utica, N.Y.,”[26] and from that time until his death he was a constant contributor of original articles, reviews, and notices of all botanists whose deaths occurred within his knowledge, leaving an unfinished necrology on his desk.

In 1835 his first text-book was written, “Elements of Botany,” and he returned to the same title for his last text-book in 1887. He spent a summer at his Sauquoit home at work upon it; and he once gave a lively account of the warm and noisy discussions which he held with his friend John Carey over style and expressions when he was reading the proofs in his boarding-house in New York, to the great interest of all within hearing. He admitted that it was one of the best lessons in the art of writing he ever had.

Dr. Gray, writing for the “New York World” an obituary notice of John Carey, on his death in 1880, says of him, after a short sketch of his life:—

“Mr. Carey was a man of marked gifts, accomplishments, and individuality. His name will long be remembered in American botany. There are few of his contemporaries in this country who have done more for it than he, although he took little part in independent publication. His critical knowledge and taste and his keen insight were most useful to me in my earlier days of botanical authorship. He wrote several valuable articles for the journals, and when, in 1848, my ‘Manual of Botany’ was produced, he contributed to it the two most difficult articles, that on the willows and that on the sedges....

“Being fondly attached to his memory, and almost the last survivor of the notable scientific circle which Mr. Carey adorned, I wish to pay this feeble tribute to the memory of a worthy botanist and a most genial, true-hearted, and good man.”

It is to be regretted that Dr. Gray’s letters to his old friend are no longer in existence.

His correspondence with Sir William Jackson Hooker, then professor at Glasgow, Scotland, began in 1835.

TO JOHN TORREY.

Bridgewater, Oneida County, N.Y., January 1, 1831.

Dear Sir,—I received your letter, through Professor Hadley, a few weeks since, and I embrace the earliest opportunity of transmitting a few specimens of those plants of which you wished a further supply. I regret that the state of my herbarium will not admit of my sending as many specimens of each as I could wish or as would be desirable to you. I shall be able to obtain an additional supply of most of them during the ensuing summer, when it will give me pleasure to supply you with those, or any other interesting plants which I may meet with. I send you a few grasses; numbered; also a few mosses, etc. When you have leisure, you will oblige me by sending the names of those numbered, and rectify any errors in those labeled. If you should be desirous of additional specimens, please let me know it, and I will supply you in the course of next summer.

You ask me whether I am desirous of obtaining the plants peculiar to New York, New Jersey, etc., or of European plants. I should be highly gratified by receiving any plants you think proper to send me; and will repay you, so far as in my power, by transmitting specimens of all the interesting plants I discover. I know little of exotic botany, having no foreign specimens. I am particularly attached to the study of the grasses, ferns, etc. If you have any specimens to transmit to me, please leave them with Mr. Franklin Brown, Attorney at Law, Inns of Court, Beekman Street, who will forward them to me by the earliest opportunity.

During the next summer, I intend to visit the western part of this State, also Ohio and Michigan. I shall devote a large portion of my time to the collection of the plants of the places I visit. If you know of any interesting localities, or where any interesting plants could be procured, please inform me, and I will endeavor to obtain them for you.

Respectfully yours,
Asa Gray.

Bridgewater, April 6, 1832.

Having a convenient opportunity of sending to you, I improve it to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of October 6, and of the very interesting and valuable package of plants which was duly received a few weeks afterwards. In the course of the ensuing summer, I shall be able to supply you with an additional supply of most of the plants mentioned in your list. Many of these were collected during an excursion to the western part of the State, and are not found in this section of the country.

I have given a copy of this list to my friend Dr. N. W. Folwell of Seneca County, an industrious collector, who is situated in a section rich in plants, and requested him to transmit specimens of these and other interesting plants to you. I think he will be able to furnish you with many interesting plants from that section of country, and I shall be grateful for any favors you may have in your power to confer upon him. I shall be engaged the ensuing summer at Fairfield and at Salina, where I hope to make some interesting collections in natural history. If it is not too much trouble and the specimen is within your reach, may I ask further information with regard to No. 34, in my last package to you. It is a Carex, from the shore of Lake Erie,—growing with C. lupulina but flowering later. Is it not a var. of C. lupulina? from which it appears to differ principally in its pedunculate spikes? It flowers a month later than C. lupulina (August 6).

Will you excuse me for troubling you on another subject? I shall not be able to remain much longer in this place, unless I engage in the practice of medicine under circumstances which will altogether preclude me from paying any further attention to natural history. My friends advise me to spend a few years in a milder climate, our family being predisposed to phthisis, although I am perfectly healthy and robust; and such a course would be very agreeable to me, as I could combine the study of natural history with the professional business which will be necessary for my support. I have thought of the Southern States, but I have for some time been inclined to prefer Mexico, both on account of the salubrity of its climate, and of its botanical and mineralogical riches, which so far as I know have never been very thoroughly explored. My object in troubling you with all this is merely to obtain some information with regard to the natural history of that country. Has the country been explored by any botanist since Humboldt in 1803? And is there still room enough in that branch to repay one for devoting a few years to its investigations?

I am young (twenty-one), without any engagements to confine me to this section of country, and prefer the study of botany to anything else. Although I have not arrived at any positive determination, I have commenced the study of the Spanish language, and find it (with the aid of Latin and French) quite easy. I should be pleased to have your advice on this subject, as you have many sources of information which are beyond my reach. I should be highly gratified if you would state to me what you think of the prospects in Mexico for a person under my circumstances, and whether any other section of country or any other situation presents greater inducements. Under whatever circumstances I may be placed, it will be gratifying to me to continue a correspondence which has, thus far, been so useful to me, and I shall always wish to do all in my power to render it interesting to you. I shall be ready to leave this place by 1st of September next, at which time I shall probably visit New York. Will you write me on this subject as soon as convenient, and very much oblige,

Yours truly,
A. Gray.

P.S. There is within a circuit of some miles, and at this place, a great variety of fossil organic remains, and I am collecting them as extensively as possible. We find trilobites (Asaphus, and occasionally Calymene), a variety of bivalve and a few univalve shells, etc., both in lime rock and greywacke. The celebrated locality of Trenton Falls you are of course acquainted with. Would a suit of them be acceptable to yourself, or the Lyceum of Natural History, New York? And can they be named, so that I can label my collection from them? There may few of them be of any interest, but if you wish it you shall have a suit containing specimens of all I find.

Utica, January 2, 1833.

I received your letter of December 25, and have given the subject of which you write a careful consideration. I may say that I have no objection to the situation you propose, if a proper arrangement can be made.

The terms of my engagement here are these. This situation became vacant by the death of Mr. Edgerton in April last. I was recommended by some of my friends, and finally made an arrangement for one year; took charge of a class in botany and mineralogy on 20th May; closed July 30. Have been at liberty until now; have just commenced a chemical course, to continue nine weeks, which will conclude my duties for the year. The compensation is board, room, washing, fuel, and all other expenses of the kind, for the whole year, or as much of the year as I choose to remain here. All expenses of the laboratory are defrayed (which by the way are not likely to be heavy), and in addition I receive $300. The advantages of the situation are, leisure and the means of a comfortable support. The disadvantages, the school is not incorporated and though now flourishing may not continue so, the scholars are too young, the principal wishes to retain too much of the Eatonian plan to suit me, and they have not furnished the means for the chemical course which I had a right to expect. No arrangement has been made for another year, but I have reason to think I shall be requested to remain another year. I am confident my leisure time would be employed to greater advantage if I was situated so as to have access to good libraries and extensive collections.

At present I can be satisfied with a moderate income, sufficient for a comfortable support, for the purchase of a few books, etc.; but that income must be sure; I cannot afford to run any risks about it. I would willingly collect plants the whole summer, take on my hands the whole labor of preparing and arranging them, but as the proceeds would be absolutely necessary for my support, so they should be certain. I am now advantageously situated for the collection of plants, etc., as, if I choose, I can travel every year with a class who will defray my expenses.

If you still desire to make such arrangement, please to state more explicitly the duties you wish me to perform; how much time can be given to collecting plants; what compensation you can afford me, supposing nearly the whole summer is devoted to making collections, and three fourths of the whole to belong to you,—or propose any plan which would be satisfactory to you, and I will let you know, very shortly, whether I will accept it or not. I had rather leave it to yourself than to make any definite proposition at present. I am confident we can make an arrangement which will be mutually beneficial.

I need not say that I wish to hear from you again on this subject as soon as possible, as I must soon make my arrangements for the ensuing season. How large is the class at the Medical College? I have just returned from a visit at Fairfield; they have a class of about 190. In haste,

Yours very respectfully,
A. Gray.

Utica, January 23, 1833.

Excuse me for troubling you. I have this day received from Dr. L. C. Beck a sheet of a work, now publishing, entitled a “Flora of the Northern and Middle States,” arranged according to the natural system. I have the sheet commencing the species; commences with Ranunculaceæ; it is in 12mo.

As you mentioned that Beck has been very secret in all his proceedings, it occurred to me that very possibly you have heard nothing of it, and I thought it right to let you know. It appears to be after the fashion of De Candolle’s “Prodromus,” condensed descriptions and fine print. He still keeps his Ranunculus lacustris, and has added a new species to that genus, which he calls R. Clintonii, from Rome, Oneida County, N. Y.; the same as published in fifth edition Eaton’s “Manual” under the name of R. prostratus, Lamk. I have never seen their specimens, but have little doubt it is a form of R. repens, which flowers with us from April to September and assumes many forms. Dr. Beck wishes me to send him any undescribed or interesting plants, localities of rare plants, etc. I feel somewhat interested in the work, as I wish it to supersede Eaton’s entirely. (I hear Eaton is coming out with a new edition in the spring. I see Beck means to anticipate him.) But all the undescribed plants I have are in your hands, and it would be improper to send him such at present. He has in his hands an imperfect specimen of Nasturtium natans, De Candolle, which I sent him two years ago. He did not know it; supposed it N. palustre, and I do not know whether he has determined it or no. I will tell him what it is. He has that Ophioglossum and probably will publish it. If you please you can publish this, that Scleria, etc., in Silliman, that is, if you think them new. I will send none of these to Beck, but will give him the localities of some of our most interesting plants.

I have not heard from you since I wrote you on the subject of your letter, but hope you will write me soon. If we can make any arrangement for a year, by its expiration you will know whether or not I shall be of any use to you. I wish to be situated in such a manner as will enable me to advance most rapidly in science, in botany especially.

I succeeded, some days ago, in making the chlorochromic acid of Dr. Thomson (of which you spoke to me when at your house), with chromate of lead, instead of bichromate of potash, which I was unable to obtain. It set alcohol, ether, spirits of turpentine, etc., on fire. I did not try it upon phosphorus. Shall prepare it again in a few weeks for class experiments. I am, Sir,

Yours respectfully,
A. Gray.

Utica, March 22, 1834.

I thankfully acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 1st inst., and am delighted to learn that you contemplate giving a course of botanical lectures before you leave the city. I hope the plan will succeed, and that you will have a large and very fashionable class. My journey was as tedious as rain and bad roads could make it. The first night, being alone in the coach, I was upset by the carelessness of a drunken driver. The top of the coach, striking against a stone wall, was broken in; but I escaped, narrowly indeed, without any injury excepting a few rents in my clothes. At the end of the route, I had the satisfaction of seeing the driver dismissed from his employment. On my arrival at Bridgewater I found a child of my friend and former medical preceptor,[27] a favorite little daughter, dangerously, almost hopelessly sick with inflammation of the brain. I was consequently detained several days, and before I left had the satisfaction of seeing the little patient convalescent. I am now in fine working order and busily engaged in my chemical course.

Dr. Hadley called upon me yesterday and I gave him the little “notions” you sent by me. He was much pleased, but was especially delighted with the condensed sulphurous and anhydrous sulphuric acids.

The principal object of this letter is to consult you in regard to some propositions made me by Professor Hadley. Besides his situation in the Medical College, you are aware that he holds the professorship of chemistry and natural science in Hamilton College. He has just concluded his chemical course in that institution, but in the early part of summer he lectures to the senior class upon botany and mineralogy. As they are about to make some alterations in the college building at Fairfield, his presence will be required there, and he wishes me to take his place for the ensuing term at Hamilton College. I ought also to state that Dr. H. accepted that situation with the intention of holding it but a few years, until the college should have surmounted the trouble in which it was (and is) involved, and from which we have pretty good reason to hope, from the exertions now being made, it will soon be extricated, so that the professorships may be properly endowed. He has given notice of his intention to resign about a year hence; by which time, if ever, the college will be able to place several professorships upon a substantial foundation. Dr. H. has expressed to me a strong desire that I should be considered a candidate for the place, and I strongly suspect that to further that object is one reason for his wishing me to act as his substitute during the ensuing summer. My presence there would be necessary from the 1st of June to the middle of July. Dr. H. has been acting under a nominal salary of $500, being engaged there but thirteen or fourteen weeks. For the summer course I should receive $200. Dr. H. insures me $100 immediately, even if he has to advance it himself, and the whole if funds are in the hands of the treasurer; if not, the whole would be received quite certainly within the year. I have only to say further that the college has now one hundred students, is situated in a beautiful village nine miles from Utica, has the best college buildings of any in the State, has a good faculty, etc. I urged the promise I had made of the visit to Georgia, which this plan would entirely frustrate, but promised to give him a definite answer within a fortnight.

I can scarcely think of postponing my southern tour for another season; but the question comes to this, whether, in the present state of my finances, I had better expend $100 in that visit or earn $200 in the same time. I could also, I think, continue my engagements here in July and August, by which a little more of the trash might be pocketed, and return to New York in time to make a September excursion to the dearly beloved pine barrens of New Jersey, and spend the early part of fall in botanical work, and the winter in your laboratory. The term closes here the 23d of April (a little earlier than I supposed); so if the original plan is pursued I shall be in New York by the 26th of that month. If not, I shall be disengaged for a month, a portion of which I should like to devote, with my friend Dr. Crawe, to the minerals of St. Lawrence County. So rests the case. I told Dr. H. that I should write immediately to you, and be governed in a good degree by your answer.

I have such a dislike to the appearance of vacillation which results from changing one’s plans when fully formed, that were it not for certain ulterior advantages, and that I wish to comply with the wishes, as far as may be, of a person to whom I am much obliged, I should promptly decline Dr. Hadley’s offer.

An idea just this moment strikes me which, in its crude shape, I will communicate. In eight or ten days I can get to the metals. Suppose I could then get excused, and finish my course here next summer in connection with mineralogy, which for these youngsters would do pretty well; reach New York early next month; set out immediately for Georgia, and remain there until the latter part of May; return via Charleston; examine Elliott’s herbarium, and return here by the first of June. I may be quite sure that April and May would be healthy, but could there be plants enough collected, especially Gramineæ, to make it an object? Please say what you think of it. If you think it will do, I see no insuperable objection to carrying it into effect.

A few days ago a letter reached me from Professor Lehmann, in answer to my communication eighteen months ago. He is quite desirous of continuing the correspondence. He is now particularly engaged with Hepaticæ, and is anxious to obtain our species, and especially original specimens of those described by the late Mr. Schweinitz, etc. He has sent a box (which by this time I hope has arrived in New York) containing about five hundred species of plants and several botanical books. He also writes that he has applied to Nees von Esenbeck for dried specimens of all the species of Aster cultivated in his garden in order to transmit them with the monograph by that author; but not having arrived in time they will be sent with his next package. I wish to be particularly remembered to Mrs. Torrey and to Mr. Shaw, not forgetting my lively little friends J——, E——, and M——, whom I very much long to see. I had intended long before this to have written to Mr. Shaw, but have not yet had leisure. Please say to him that I am much obliged for the papers he has been so good as to send me. I wish to know whether he has yet apostatized from the anti-tea-drinking society, of which Mr. S. and myself were (“par nobile fratrum”) such promising members. Please say to him that I have not yet drunk tea, but am doing penance upon coffee, milk, and water.

May I trouble you for the very earliest possible answer to this, which will much oblige

Yours very respectfully,
A. Gray.

Hamilton College, June 9, 1834.

Your letter of the 13th ult., with the bundle of books, was in due time received. Yours of the 2d ult. was received at the same time. I can send you no more copies of “Gramineæ,”[28] etc.; all I brought up are subscribed for and delivered. “Major Downing,” who subscribes for two copies (one for himself and one for his friend the Gin’ral,[29] I suppose), as well as the other subscribers, must wait until fall. I am lecturing here to a small but quite intelligent Senior class, twenty-six in number, just enough to fill three sides of a large table, and time passes very pleasantly. The small fund for the support of this institution will, I think, be secured, but the trustees do not act in concert with the faculty, and it is rumored quarrel among themselves, so that, unless some changes are effected in the board, I fear the college will not be sustained. I shall remain here five weeks longer, and then have a short engagement at Utica. I have promised to make a visit to the north in August. I wish very much that I was able to remain there six or seven weeks, to examine with attention the vegetation of the primitive region in St. Lawrence and Franklin counties. I cannot doubt that the mountains and the banks of the large streams of that region would furnish a rich harvest of plants. That range is an extension of one from the far north, which, passing between the Great Lakes and Hudson’s Bay, crosses the St. Lawrence at the Thousand Islands, and passes through St. Lawrence, Franklin, and Clinton counties. Consequently many sub-alpine plants, such as Anemone Hudsonica, Trisetum molle, Geum triflorum, etc., are found in this region farther south than elsewhere. The mineralogy of the region, also, needs to be farther explored. The expense of such a tour, divided between Dr. Crawe and myself, traveling in a conveyance of our own, will be comparatively trifling.

I find, however, that further supplies of several New Jersey grasses are absolutely required to enable me to make out the necessary number of suits this fall of the first part of my “Grasses.” I see also by the list before me that they (with few exceptions) are in good state as late as the 8th or 10th of September, and that they can all be obtained without proceeding farther south than Tom’s River; so that I have no alternative but to hasten back to New York, and make a flying trip to Tom’s River (or Howel Works at least) early in September. If you meet with Panicum agrostoides, Poa obtusa Muhl., and Poa eragrostis, I shall be much obliged if you will secure for me the needful quantity of specimens. I am making arrangements for securing the bulbs, tubers, and seeds of the rarer plants for Lehmann. I shall take great pleasure in complying with your desire of securing as many as possible for your little garden. Bulbs and tubers I take up after flowering, and place in dry sand. Can you give some instructions as to the best manner of preserving other perennial roots, such as Asters, etc.? If you will give me the necessary instructions, I promise you to spare no exertions to carry them into effect.

I have nearly finished De Candolle’s “Théorie Elémentaire.” I have devoured it like a novel. It ought to be translated, that it may be more generally read in this country, where something of the kind is much needed. By the way, as soon as you receive Lindley’s new elementary work, I hope you will set about preparing an American edition.

This immediate neighborhood is very poor for botanizing. Excepting Cyperaceæ, it furnishes nothing of interest. I shall soon, however, make more distant excursions, so as to include Oneida Lake and the “pine plains.” When I return I shall bring with me a huge bundle of plants, which will show that I have not been idle.

TO HIS FATHER

November 21, 1834.

The class at the Medical College is very small, so that I have no salary here at present. But I have a comfortable and pleasant home, and fine opportunities for pursuing my favorite studies, and for acquiring a reputation that must sooner or later secure me a good place. I have work enough thrown into my hands to support me, with my prudent habits, through the winter. I spend my time entirely at the medical college and at my home here at Dr. Torrey’s, and hold little intercourse with any except medical and scientific men. I am writing two scientific articles on a difficult branch of botany for a scientific journal or magazine, which will give me a little notoriety. Dr. Torrey and myself went last month to Philadelphia, where we stayed a week. We spent our time almost entirely in the rooms of the American Philosophical Society, and of the Academy of Science. We met most of the scientific and other learned men, and spent our time very pleasantly. You shall hear from me again before long. It is not probable that I shall be up before next summer.

TO HIS MOTHER

Saturday Morning, February 7, 1835.

I do not know when I shall see you. I shall be up sometime during the spring or summer if I live so long, but perhaps not until July or August. It is very probable that I shall stay in the city the whole time. I wish very much to spend a few weeks in Georgia, early in the spring, but I see that I shall not be able to do so. My time is spent here very profitably, and I am advancing in knowledge as fast as I ought to wish, but I make no money, or scarcely enough to live upon. Just at present I am rather behindhand, but think that by next fall I shall, with ordinary success, be in better circumstances. It is unpleasant to be embarrassed in such matters, for I should like much to be independent, and this with my moderate wishes would require no very large sum, and I have no great desire to be rich.

Tell father I am very glad he has brought home the remainder of those boxes from Utica. The burning down of one of the buildings of the gymnasium has broken up that school entirely, and it probably will not be revived. I knew Mr. Bartlett would fail soon, and that accident has only hastened the time a little. He has been insolvent for some time. There was a very severe fire within a few rods of us last week; five or six dwelling-houses and other buildings were burned to the ground. Although it was so near us we were sitting at tea entirely unconcerned. Everything is done by the fire companies, and people who crowd about fires are only in the way, without doing any good.

Let me hear from you soon, and you will hear from me again in due season. The lectures in the Medical College will be finished in about three weeks, and then I shall be a little more at leisure.

I am very affectionately yours,
A. Gray.

TO HIS FATHER.

New York, April 6, 1835.

Dear Father,—I have been waiting for some time to see what my plans for the season would be, expecting as soon as that point was determined to write to you. All my arrangements were upset last fall, and the prospects for daily bread have been rather dark all winter—that is for the present; for the future they look as well as I could expect. It is probable now that I shall remain here during the summer; prosecuting the same studies and pursuits in which I am now engaged, unless something else turns up in the mean time....

Tell mother I have for her a copy of Barnes’s “Notes of the Gospels,” but I want to read it myself before I send it up. Perhaps I can’t spare it until I come up. I think you will all be very much pleased with it. I wish I could also send you his “Notes on the Acts and Romans.” Please ask Mr. Rogers, or any of your merchants when they come to New York this spring, to drop a line in the post-office for me, that I may take the opportunity of sending home by them. I wish I could come up this spring, but I see that I shall not be able. Do you take a religious newspaper? Please write to me soon. May the Lord prosper you and keep you all.

Yours truly and affectionately,
A. Gray.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

New York, April 4, 1835.

Dear Sir,—Your kind letter of December 11, with the parcel of books you were so good as to send me, were in due time received, for both of which I beg you to accept my thanks. Perhaps you will do me the favor to accept a copy of the second part of the “North American Gramineæ and Cyperaceæ,” being a continuation of my attempt to illustrate our species of these families, the plan of which, I am gratified to learn, meets your approbation. I inclose in the same parcel the loose sheets of an unpublished portion of the third volume of the “Annals of the New York Lyceum of Natural History,” comprising an attempt at a monography of the genus Rhynchospora. A more perfect copy, with a copy of the engraving, now in the hands of the artist, will be transmitted to you by the earliest opportunity. I also send a little parcel of mosses, nearly all of which were collected in the interior of the State of New York. May I ask you to look them over at as early an opportunity as may suit your convenience, and to return to me the result of your determinations. I do not venture to think that you will find among them anything of especial interest. I very much regret that I am at the present moment unable to forward to you a half a dozen copies of the work of “Gramineæ and Cyperaceæ,” the number you so kindly offer to take charge of. A few species are wanting to complete further suits of the first volume, but these I hope soon to obtain. Not to permit your kind offer to pass wholly unimproved, I hereby transmit to you three copies of vols. 1 and 2 which are at the disposal of any of your botanical friends who may desire to possess the work. If an additional number of copies should be needed they can in a very short time be furnished. With high respect, I remain, dear sir,

Yours truly,
A. Gray.

To William Jackson Hooker, LL. D.,
Regius Professor of Botany in the University at Glasgow.

TO JOHN TORREY.

Sauquoit, N.Y., July 9, 1835.

I am progressing a little with my rather formidable task; in fact I am making haste quite slowly, and am now discussing the mysteries of exogenous and endogenous stems. I have studied little this week, for I found that close confinement was spoiling my health, so I have been taking quite severe exercise almost constantly, by which I am considerably improved already, although my bones ache prodigiously. I have not yet botanized largely. When at Bridgewater I secured all I could find of the new Carex; also C. chordorhiza, which, by the way, Crawe has found in his region. I hope soon to collect more extensively, but in this vicinity there are no plants of especial interest. I have just now a mania for examining and preserving the roots and fruits of our plants (I make notes of everything in a copy of your “Compendium”), and I hope to bring you a collection in this way which will interest, and perhaps be of some use to you. Fruits and ripe seeds are not often to be obtained, at least in a proper state, in our herbaria. I have been examining our Smilax rotundifolia. It is a regular endogenous shrub, although it sometimes dies nearly to the ground, but always sends out a branch from the uppermost node which survives the winter. It branches just as any endogen would, because the terminal bud is killed; the branches are cylindrical, and increase very little in diameter after their production. A cross-section shows the same structure as the rattan, i.e., the vascular and woody bundles are arranged equally throughout the stem. But a great part of the stem is prostrate beneath the surface, and it may be traced back, alive and dead, for several years’ growth. In fact I have not yet succeeded in tracing the stem back to the true root; all I have seen are adventitious roots sent of by the nodes of the stem. This is the only endogenous shrub, I presume, in the Northern States. By the way, the term rhizoma must be used much in descriptive botany, and be extended so as to include all subterranean, nearly horizontal stems, or portions of the stem, which produce roots from any part of their surface and buds from their extremity. It occurs in a great part of herbaceous perennials, and can always in practice be distinguished from the root, although it is still described as root in all the books; witness, Hydrophyllum, Actæa, Caulophyllum, Trillium, Convallaria, and so on to infinity.

I am not yet perfectly satisfied about our Actæas; thus the red-berried one is now perfectly ripe, while the berries of the white one are but half-grown; all the red ones, so far as I have seen, have slender pedicels also, yet the leaves and the rhizomata are exactly alike. By the way, while I was botanizing this afternoon, I met with great quantities of Orchis spectabilis, by far the largest and finest I ever saw; their leaves emulating Habenaria orbiculata. If you care for them in the slightest degree, I will secure a sufficient quantity to fill your garden. O. spectabilis will, while in flower, be a very pretty spectacle....

I remain cordially and truly yours,
A. Gray.

TO HIS FATHER.

New York, September 28, 1835.

I suppose I have been a little negligent in waiting so long before I wrote home, but in truth I did not wish to write until I had something certain to say, and even now I have very little. I met Dr. Hadley in Utica just at dusk on the evening of the day you left me there, so I stayed all night there, and went to Fairfield next day. I stayed at Fairfield until Tuesday afternoon, then went to Little Falls, and arrived in Albany just in time for the evening boat next day, and was in New York at breakfast next morning.

Since my return I have been very busy, and on the whole very comfortably situated. I have got back to my class in the Sunday-school; both teachers and scholars have mostly returned, for they all get scattered during the warm months of the summer; and we are now going on very well. On my arrival here I found a very fine package of dried plants collected by my friend the Rev. John Diell, chaplain for American seamen in the Sandwich Islands. I set about them immediately, and it has taken me nearly all my time this month to study them, but I have now finished them. I shall send my notes about them to Professor Hooker of Glasgow, Scotland, that he may, if he pleases, publish them in the “Journal of Botany,” of which he is the editor. They are of more interest to the people on that side of the water than to us. I have again sat down to writing upon the work in which I have been engaged all summer, and I do not mean that anything else shall tempt me from it until it is finished, although a nice little parcel of weeds from China, sent by S. Wells Williams[30] (son of Wm. Williams), lies at my elbow. As to my book,[31] I am trying to make a bargain with two publishers; the prospects seem pretty fair, and I shall probably get $300, which is the sum I insist on. I shall have a definite answer in a few days. As to my course and occupation for the winter I can say nothing, for I have not hit upon any certain plan. One thing is pretty certain after thinking over the matter quite seriously, and consulting with Dr. Hadley, who is my firm friend in all these matters; I am determined to persevere for a little while yet before I give up all hopes from science as a pursuit for life. I have now, and expect to have, a great many discouragements, but I shall meet them as well as I can, until it shall seem to be my duty to adopt some other profession for my daily bread. I have several plans before me, some of which you would think rather bold; but I have not yet settled upon any of them. As soon as I take any steps at all I will let you know....

I know little of what is going on in the town. I have not been down into the business part of the city over five or six times since I have been here. When Mr. Rogers comes down, if he will let me know where he stops in season, I will see him. I shall write again to some of you in a very short time. Let me hear soon from some of you, and though I have here little time for writing letters, I will give punctual answers. I remain, with love to mother and all the rest,

Very truly yours,
A. Gray.

New York, November 17, 1835.

To-day when I go down town I shall subscribe for the “New York Observer” for you, and pay for a year. The “Observer” and the “Evangelist” are both excellent papers, and I hardly know which to choose. I would send the “Evangelist,” did not Mr. Leavitt fill it up too much with anti-slavery. One should if possible read both.

I am now boarding at 286 Bleeker Street, but when you write to me you may direct as before, as I am at Dr. Torrey’s a part of almost every day. I have a very comfortable and quiet place, for which I pay $4 per week, and keep a fire besides, which I suppose will startle you a little. I hope to obtain the situation of curator to the Lyceum of Natural History in the spring, when their new building is finished. The duties of the situation will take up only a part of my time. I shall have under my charge the best scientific library and cabinet in the city, a couple of fine rooms to live in, and a salary of about $300. But although I can secure pretty strong influence, the best members of the society offering me the place and wishing me to take it, yet it is not certain that we shall bring it about, so I say nothing about it. I shall let you know whenever any changes offer in my situation.

TO JOHN TORREY.

New York, July 11, 1836.

Dear Doctor,—Since your departure several memoranda of more or less consequence have accumulated around me, and (having not yet heard from you) I will now communicate them, together with whatever intelligence I think will interest you. To begin with the most important. I have now (5 P.M.) just returned from your house, where I found a parcel for you (received by mail from Philadelphia, postage the mere trifle of $1.14-1/2), with the Hamburg seal, and the handwriting of our old correspondent, Professor Lehmann. Suspecting it to contain advice of packages of plants or books, I took the liberty to open it. I found two diplomas in high Dutch. Shade of Leopoldino-Carolineæ Cæsar. academiæ naturæ curiosorum! Hide your diminished head, and give way to the Königliche Botanische Gesellschaft in Regensburg!—which being interpreted means, I imagine, the Royal Botanical Society of Regensburg. Now I know as little of Regensburg and the Regensburg people who have done us such honor as a certain old lady did of the famous King of Prussia; but I ratherly think it means Ratisbon....

Box of plants and box of bones are here; the plants certainly look the more antediluvian of the two. The specimens are wretched and mostly devoid of interest. The bones will be served up at the Lyceum this evening.... On the same day last week I received a letter from Dewey,[32] and another from Carey, and according to both their accounts they must have been in raptures with each other. Dewey sends love to friend Torrey, and Carey kind regards to Dr. and Mrs. T. Dewey says Carey is rather savage upon species, and where Carey has not given him a favorable opinion upon any, it would amuse you to see how Dewey has detailed them to me, in order if possible to save the poor creatures’ lives. Dewey has a good spirit and is altogether a most estimable man, and I am sorry that we have to pull down any of his work. I must write him a few things, that it may not come upon him all at once....

Yours truly,
A. Gray.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

New York, April 7, 1836.

Dear Sir,—I take the opportunity of acknowledging the receipt of your two kind letters, which reached me a few weeks since nearly at the same time, one by the Liverpool packet and the other by the Lady Hannah Ellice. Allow me also to thank you for the trouble you have taken in naming the set of mosses, and especially for the beautiful parcel of British mosses you were so good as to send me, which were truly welcome. All British plants are so, as I have next to none in my herbarium; but nothing could be more acceptable than such a complete and authentic suit of the mosses of your country.

As to the Sandwich Island plants, I hardly know what to say. Supposing they might be of some use to you in connection with other collections, I copied the brief notes I made on studying them very hurriedly indeed, and placed them at your disposal. I did not possess sufficient means for determining them in a satisfactory manner, and fear I have committed errors in many cases. You will doubtless detect these at once, and if, on the whole, you think proper to publish them in the “Companion to the Botanical Magazine,” may I ask you to revise the paper, and freely make such corrections and alterations as you think proper. In that case, if you think the notes worthy of publication, I should not object; yet you are equally at liberty to use them in any other way. The parcel contained a specimen of a Composita (from Mouna Kea) which puzzled me extremely, and I was unable to ascertain its genus by Lessing. The anthers are free, or slightly coherent, in all the flowers I examined. Since the parcel was transmitted to you I have seen a specimen of Rhus (from Sandwich Islands) resembling the one in the parcel, except in having pubescent leaves. The latter is therefore improperly characterized, and perhaps will prove to be a well-known species. I shall hope to receive other and more complete specimens from Mr. Diell, and if I am so fortunate will gladly share with so esteemed a correspondent as Dr. Hooker. I hope to send you a parcel by the first opportunity that occurs of sending direct to Glasgow: when I will put up specimens of the mosses you desire, and will send a copy of the “Gramineæ and Cyperaceæ” for the gentleman at Paris who wishes it.

It is so troublesome and expensive to get them bound that I should much prefer, if any of your friends and correspondents should desire them, to send the specimens with labels and loose title-pages, at $4 per volume, each comprising, as you are aware, one hundred species. I may in that way furnish larger and often more perfect or more numerous specimens than in the bound copies. I hope to publish the third (and perhaps also the fourth) volume early next autumn.

Allow me to express my thanks for your kind assistance in various ways, and to say that I shall hereafter (D. V.) prosecute the study of our lovely science with increased zeal. I remain, with sentiments of the highest esteem,

Your much obliged friend,
Asa Gray.

October 10, 1836.

I also beg your acceptance of a copy of a little elementary botanical work published last spring. I do not expect it to possess any particular interest in your eyes; but in this country, unfortunately, no popular and at the same time scientific elementary treatise has been generally accessible to botanical students, and such a work was so greatly needed that I felt constrained to make the attempt, since no better-qualified person could be induced to undertake the labor.

A letter which Dr. Torrey has just received from Mr. Arnott gives me the information that you have honored my attempt at a monograph of Rhynchospora by commencing the reprinting of it in the “Companion to the Botanical Magazine.” I might justly be proud that my first attempt should be thought worthy such notice; but I wish it had been delayed until you could receive the monograph “Cyperaceæ of North America” of Dr. Torrey, in which I had occasion, in the revision of our Rhynchosporæ, to make some important alterations and corrections, as well as to introduce a new species and specify some additional localities. The paper referred to I hope you will receive with this letter.

Except a few extra copies, all the sheets of the monograph “Rhynchosporæ” were destroyed by fire soon after being printed, and when reprinted, about a year since, I added a few observations, notes of additional localities, etc. But owing to a want of careful revision I find there are several errors (several of which are quite material), some of the pen and others of the types. I hope these have been detected and corrected in the course of the reprint. I send herewith the sheets of the paper as published here, with such typographical corrections as now occur to me. Would it not be proper to append a reprint of the revision of Rhynchosporæ in Dr. Torrey’s monograph, a copy of which I hope will reach you with the present letter. If the specimens I send please Mr. Webb I shall be glad. It is the last perfect set I have. Please make no remittance, since the sum is too trifling, and moreover I may soon have some favors to ask as to its disposal. Indeed, I know not why I should not state that there is some probability that I may soon visit the islands of the South Pacific Ocean as a botanist, in the exploring expedition now fitting out under the orders of our government. I am anxious to engage in this work, and I suppose may do so if I choose, but I fear that the expedition, which, if well appointed and conducted, may do much for the advancement of the good cause of science, may be so marred by improper appointments as to render it unadvisable for me to be connected with it. I therefore at present can merely throw out the intimation that I may possibly accompany the naval expedition which is expected to sail early in the spring, and to spend two years in the southern portions of the Pacific Ocean. If so I hope to decide the matter in time to procure many needed works, etc., from England and France. I must here close by subscribing myself, with the highest respect,

Your obedient servant,
Asa Gray.

TO HIS FATHER.

New York, October 8, 1836.

You may recollect that I intimated to you that there was some probability of my changing my situation before a great while. Matters are now in such a state that it becomes proper to inform you that I shall probably be offered the situation of botanist to the scientific exploring expedition, now fitting out for the South Sea by the United States government. This is to be a large expedition, consisting of a frigate, two brigs, a store-ship, and a schooner; it is to be absent about three years. It will sail possibly in the course of the winter, but very probably not until spring. The scientific corps will consist of several persons, in different departments of science, and the persons who will probably be selected are mostly my personal friends: two of them at least having been recommended at my suggestion. The quarters offered us, and the accommodations, will be ample and complete, and the pay will probably be considerable. We hope to obtain over $2500 per year. Had I room here I would write you further particulars, but this will do for the present. I ask whether, if everything is arranged in a satisfactory manner, you are willing and think it best that I should go. I think it not unlikely that the appointments will be made during the present month. A few days ago I was offered the professorship of chemistry and natural history in the college at Jackson, Louisiana (in the upper part of that State, near the Mississippi River), with a salary of $1500 per year. This I at once declined. I do not like the Southern States.

Yours affectionately,
A. Gray.

New York, November 21, 1836.

No appointments are yet made in the scientific corps of the South Sea expedition. The difficulties as to the naval officers are only just settled. There are so many who wish to command that it is impossible to please them all. Captain Jones, the commander, is now in town, and I had the pleasure of seeing him this evening at the Astor hotel. He goes to Boston to-morrow to look after the two brigs fitting out at the navy yard there.

The Secretary of the Navy has written me that when the appointments are made in the scientific corps, the chief naturalists will be called to Washington for a few days, for the distribution of duties among them. If the place for which I ask is given me, it is not unlikely that I may be in Washington early next month. I think you cannot expect E. and myself before about Thanksgiving Day, when if she should have recovered we shall have one reason more than usual for returning thanks to the Author of all good. You did not, it appears, think it a matter of sufficient consequence to say anything about my contemplated voyage; or to offer even an opinion about the matter. Perhaps you thought that, like most people, I only asked advice after I had made up my own mind; and you are not far from correct in this supposition. Still I should have been glad to know that you take some interest in the matter.

As soon as anything is determined upon at headquarters I will let you know....

March 21, 1837.

Since I wrote you last I have been to Washington. I was there at the inauguration and for a few days afterwards. We were not sent for by the Secretary of the Navy, so we had to bear our own traveling expenses, which were not small. When the secretary chooses to convene us, which he seems in no great hurry to do, we shall probably be directed to meet at Philadelphia, or perhaps at New York. There seems to be no doubt but that we shall be here until July.

As they do not choose to advance us any pay yet, money will be very scarce with me for a month or two at least. My engagement at the Lyceum terminated at the close of their year, that is, on the last Monday of last month. So, although I occupy my rooms here until the first of May, I draw no salary.

TO JOHN F. TROWBRIDGE.

New York, November 9, 1837.

Dear Doctor,—Your letter and that of Mrs. T., dated November 7, reached me this afternoon, to which I hasten to reply, as I have been just on the point of writing you for a week past, but have waited from day to day, in the expectation of being able to afford you more definite information than I could have done. It is this, rather than want of time or inclination, that often causes the delay in writing to my friends. The intelligence which concerns us and interests our friends comes in little by little, day by day. Thus, for instance, the scientific corps were ordered to report here to Commander Jones nearly three weeks ago, and they have been here waiting for a long time, for the secretary had neglected to inform Jones of the fact, and he had come back to his home, and only returned here this week. However, we have now reported and shall take possession of our quarters in a fortnight. They are now undergoing some alterations. We have appointed a caterer, advanced each $120, and our stores will now be soon laid in. The purser of our squadron to-day paid us four months’ pay in advance, a very seasonable assistance. My bills having been approved by the government I am now paying them off, and must see to getting all my materials packed up and sent to the vessels, which are now lying at the navy yard, Brooklyn.

This will employ me for a day or two. It is impossible even now to tell you the time of sailing with any certainty. My opinion is that we shall get off about the first or before the 10th of December. It is certain that the ships and stores will not be ready within three weeks, and it would not surprise me, after what I have seen, if we should be kept back longer than you expect. Let us once get to sea and you will not see or hear of so much dilatoriness from us.

November 10. I was prevented from closing my letter last evening by the calling of Professor Henry, who has just returned from a visit of nine months to France and Great Britain. I have been very much engaged all day, and sit down now for a little time, hoping to finish a few letters which have been delayed too long already.

December 5.

I am here yet, and am like to be for a month or so. Commander Jones has been sick for two or three weeks, and I am sorry to say there seems little probability that he will be much better ever. He has a bad cough, and raises blood—is of a consumptive habit. As he has been growing worse, he this morning left for Philadelphia, on his way home. It is thus most probable that we shall have a new commander, and a considerable delay is unavoidable. I think the secretary will be put right this winter by Congress.

Do let me know how Mrs. Trowbridge is. Please send this note to my father, as it is a week or more since I wrote. As soon as anything further is known I will let you know.

Yours very truly,
A. Gray.

July 18, 1838.

Dear Tro,—I find, by turning over some books that have been lying on my table, four reviews which certainly ought to have been sent you long ago, but which have been forgotten in my great hurry for the last week or two. I will send them, with this, to-morrow: so look out for them. I have not heard from you since I wrote you a pretty long epistle.

On the 10th instant I tendered my resignation, or rather requested to be left out in the new arrangement. I supposed that it would have been accepted and no words made; but instead Mr. Poinsett sends me word to come on to Washington and have a talk with him, to learn more definitely what their plans, etc., are, and thinks he will be able to remove my present dissatisfaction, and if not says I may have leave to withdraw, but urges me not to insist upon resigning without coming on to Washington. Dana and Couthony are also invited to come on, Pickering being already there. Though this request reaches me in such a form that I cannot claim my traveling expenses, and probably shall not get them (which is just like this nasty administration), yet I suppose I must go on. The only difficulty is that I am afraid they will ply me with such strong reasons as to prevail on me to hold my situation, particularly as their new plan has the advantage of leaving home all the blockheads and taking the best fellows; and moreover some other very promising offers that I had have not been brought to bear very directly; in fact I see that I should get nothing satisfactory from them for a year or two. I intend to set out for Washington to-morrow afternoon. I shall endeavor to make a very short stay, and if I come to any determination there I will try to let you know.

I have scarcely time to write another letter; so please send this up to my father, who has not heard from me in a good while.

Yours very truly,
A. G.

TO HIS FATHER.

New York, August 6, 1838.

I have resigned my place in the exploring expedition! So that job is got along with. I have been long in a state of uncertainty and perplexity about the matter; but I believe that I have taken the right course. I leave here to-morrow, and am obliged to travel as fast as I can go to Detroit. I shall drop this note on the road somewhere: probably at Utica. I must get as near to Detroit as possible by Saturday evening. I hope to return in the latter part of the month; and intend to make you a visit on my way back.

TO MRS. TORREY.

Batavia, Genesee County, N. Y.
Friday morning, August 10, 1838.

My Dear Mrs. Torrey,—The place from which I write is a very pleasant and flourishing country village; the shire-town of Genesee County, forty-four miles from Buffalo and about thirty-four from Rochester. Here is your humble servant and correspondent “laid up for repairs.” This is, you may say, my first stopping-place since I left New York, from which place I am distant 418 miles. But I may as well begin at the beginning. I left home, as you remember, on Tuesday evening; breakfasted in Albany, dined at Utica, took stage immediately for Buffalo. We took our supper at Chittenango, which Dr. T. will recollect as the Ultima Thule of our peregrinations in the summer of 1826, and near which place we found the Scolopendrium. Riding all night we were at Auburn (a lovely village) by daybreak, and, passing through Geneva, arrived at Canandaigua in time for dinner. We reached Avon, on the Genesee River, by sunset. Here is a famous sulphur spring; and people crowd the dirty hotels and boarding-houses to drink nasty water. We reached the next considerable village, LeRoy, early in the evening; but our next stage, which brought us to this place, only ten miles, was two and a half hours; so it was about midnight when I arrived here, in a very pitiable plight, so thoroughly exhausted I was obliged to leave the coach and betake myself to rest. I was very unwilling to do this so long as I was able to ride, as, had I continued with the coach, I should have reached Buffalo early in the morning and in time for the steamboat, in which case I could expect to reach Detroit Saturday afternoon, making only four days from New York.

I find myself much better this morning, though weak, and so unstable about the epigastrium that I scarcely dare take any food. I have been debating with myself whether to go on directly to Buffalo to-day, and take the steamboat of to-morrow morning for Cleveland, or some other port in Ohio that I may be able to reach by Saturday evening; or to go from this place directly to Niagara Falls, which I could reach before evening, and remain there until Monday morning. I have pretty nearly decided upon taking the former course, as I shall save some time thereby. But I dread a tedious ride in a stagecoach. In either case I hope to have an opportunity of writing again to-morrow evening.

I met Professor Bailey,[33] of West Point, on board the boat in which I came up the river. He had called the evening previous, when both Dr. Torrey and myself were out. He informed me that the professorship of chemistry, etc., was now established by law on the same footing with the other professorships at West Point, and that the pay of all was increased, so that it is now equivalent to that of a major of cavalry; and more than this: he has been successful in obtaining the place for himself. The stage is nearly ready, and I must hasten. Did the doctor meet Mr. Herrick? I have been thinking that, as they do not know each other, the chance of their meeting at the Astor House is but slight. I must have given both him and yourself no little trouble with my expedition trappings; and if Herrick should conclude to stay at home after all, which is not unlikely, we shall lose our labor. However, tell Dr. T. that I will do as much for him whenever he fits out for an exploring expedition!

Cleveland, Ohio, August. 12, 1838,—
the 4th day of my pilgrimage.

Ere this reaches you, a letter which I sent to the post-office in Batavia, New York, will probably have come to hand. The coach called for me before I had finished, and I was obliged to take my portfolio in my hand, and finish, seal, and address the letter in the coach during a moment’s delay at the stage-office. I arrived at Buffalo a few minutes after sunset; stopped at a hotel not very munch smaller than the Astor House, with accommodations scarcely inferior. Learning that a boat was to leave for Detroit and the intervening ports that evening at eight o’clock I secured a passage. The internal organization of the Bunker Hill (and I believe the other boats on the lake are not materially different) is rather odd, but very well adapted to answer the purpose for which it is intended. All the boats carry large quantities of freight, and the whole space beneath the main deck is occupied by merchandise, and by the boilers and fuel. The deck is crowded with boxes, bales, and casks, many of which are directed to places in the far West yet so distant that they have hardly commenced their journey. The after part is occupied chiefly by a sort of cabin for deck passengers (equivalent to steerage passengers), in which men, women, and children, Dutch, Irish, Swiss, and Yankee, are promiscuously jumbled. It is infinitely better, however, than the steerage of packet-ships. The bow of the boat is occupied by a different set of passengers, viz., eight or ten horses, destined to draw sundry wagons which now occupy a very conspicuous situation in front of the promenade-deck. You would suppose there was no room left for cabin passengers. On the contrary, their accommodations, though by no means splendid, are really very comfortable and complete. They occupy what in a North River boat forms the promenade-deck, which here extends nearly the whole length of the vessel, has a ladies’ saloon entirely separate from the gentlemen’s cabin, and three or four private state-rooms for families. The gentlemen’s cabin is fitted up with state-rooms with three berths in each, and as there was only a moderate number of passengers I was so fortunate as to secure a whole state-room to myself, where I enjoyed very comfortable rest. When I rose, we were approaching the town of Erie, Pennsylvania. I made an attempt, while we were detained at the wharf, to get on shore to botanize: but time would not permit, and I consoled myself with the comfortable reflection that the dry and sterile gravely banks of the lake were not likely to afford me anything worth the trouble. We had a strong head wind nearly all day, so that our progress was not very rapid: the surface of the lake was covered with white-caps, and the boat pitched so as sadly to disturb the equanimity of a great part of the passengers. Indeed, although I was at no time sick, I found it the most prudent course to pass a large portion of the time in a recumbent position; and I was heartily glad when, a little before sunset, we came in sight of Cleveland. One or two passengers, destined for Detroit, etc., landed to pass the Sabbath here, among whom was Mr. Baldwin of Philadelphia, the machinist, a member of Mr. Barnes’ church, a very able and interesting man. We are both at the same hotel, and it being much crowded we occupy rooms which open into each other. I had a little time before night-fall to walk through the city (which will ultimately be a very pleasant place, and is now flourishing, but like most Western towns in a very unfinished state). The people show some signs of civilization: they eat ice-cream, which is sold in many places. I tried the article and found it very good,—nearly the same as what I might just at this moment be enjoying at 30 MacDougal Street, were I now there (as I wish I was), for it is more than probable that the notes of the peripatetic vender are falling upon your ear. Returning to the hotel I consulted the city directory, and read an account of the early settlement of this portion of the State, which is the famous Western Reserve once owned by Connecticut and settled mostly by citizens of that State, who brought with them the heretical doctrines and measures which caused the expulsion of the Western Reserve synod last year. But the evening is advancing, and I must break off; and hoping that the approaching Sabbath may be profitable to both of us and that you may be blessed with comfortable health and strength to enjoy it, I bid you good-night.

Sunday evening.—I attended the First Presbyterian Church this morning, expecting to hear Mr. Aikin, the pastor, formerly of Utica; but, instead, we heard President McGuffey of Cincinnati College, who is quite a celebrated man in this State.

Detroit, Tuesday noon.—I improve the first moment I could secure for the purpose to continue my letter, hoping to fill the sheet in time for the next mail.

On Monday (yesterday) morning I went botanizing, but found absolutely nothing. I kept near the shore of the lake that I might see the first steamboat that came in sight, and one was momently expected. It did not arrive, however, until eleven o’clock, and it was a little after noon before we were under way. The wind was very fresh, and the billows of Lake Erie would not have disgraced the Atlantic. It was, however, in our favor, and we made good progress; but for about two hours we had to run in the trough of the sea, so that the boat pitched and rolled sadly. At sunset we arrived at Sandusky in Ohio. The entrance to the bay is very beautiful. The lake is studded with islands of various sizes, all covered with trees, with here and there a house or a cultivated field upon the larger ones. It was dark before we left; the water was still rough. I went into the cabin and read until it was time to occupy my berth. I am not sure whether I told you that I had lost Bishop Berkeley. I left it behind at Avon, where I was too sick to think about it, but the driver promised me faithfully, for value received, to look it up and send it to the stage-office at Buffalo, where I may find it on my return.

I was roused this morning just at daybreak. We were just at Detroit. I established myself at a hotel, got my breakfast, and sallied forth to survey the town, which is larger than I supposed and most beautifully situated. As soon as I thought your friend, C. W. Whipple,[34] might be at his office I called to pay my respects and deliver the doctor’s letter. He was not in; but arrived in a few minutes. He is a good-looking man, but I suspect rather older and a good deal fatter than when you knew him. His black hair has a few silver threads mingled with it, but his countenance is youthful and most thoroughly good-natured. We had some conversation; then went to see Dr. Pitcher, but he was not at home: thence to Dr. Houghton’s house, which is entirely occupied as a store-house for the stuff collected in the State survey. It is astonishing what a prodigious quantity of labor Dr. H. and his companions have done and what extensive collections they have made. Dr. H. is not now at home but is expected to-morrow. We went next to the State-House, but did not find Governor Mason at his office. We looked through the building, at their commencement for a State library, etc., where we met some of the dignitaries of the State. We ascended into the cupola which crowns the building, where we have a most beautiful view of the town and region round about, the roads all diverging from the centre, the noble river, which we could trace from its commencement in Lake St. Clair. The people are evidently very proud of the prospect. By the way, I hear that the doctor’s protégé Dr. Fischer has been here, and has gone on to Indiana to astonish the people with his new fashion of blowing up rocks. He has performed wonders in this way between this place and New York. Whipple thinks they will have some place for him next winter. The university branch in this place has a vacation soon, and a public examination is now going on; thither we next directed our steps. I was introduced to the principal, Mr. Fitch, to whom they give a salary of $1500 per annum. I am informed that they employ no teachers or principals in any of the branches without first submitting them to a thorough examination. We stayed until the examination suspended for dinner, when I returned to my room, and here you see me engaged.—Sunset. After dinner Mr. Whipple called for me, and we went to see Governor Mason at his house. We were introduced to his sisters.... They live in a very good house, quite elegantly furnished. We stayed only a few minutes, all going to Whipple’s office, where a meeting of the board of regents was appointed to be held. It was known that there would be no quorum, so they adjourned until Thursday, when Mr. Mundy is expected back from New York, and a meeting of consequence will be held. I was introduced to Chancellor Farnsworth (who wrote me from the committee), Major Kearsley, Judge Brooks (Whipple’s father-in-law) and others. We all went to the examination, which was, as usual, very stupid, and as it closed we stopped in at the Catholic church—cathedral as it is called—and saw the pictures, of which there are several, some of them valuable. I was struck with a portrait of St. Peter, a stout Paddy-looking fellow with a heavy black beard and mustachios, bare-footed, lugging a pair of keys as large as he could grasp! We expect nearly all hands to go to Ann Arbor on Friday. All speak in glowing terms of the beauty of the location for the university. I had a few minutes’ conversation with Whipple as to the plan of buildings, etc., which satisfied me, but I wait for more information before I attempt to write you about the matter.

I am, so far, pleased on the whole with the prospects here, and think they are more promising than I had at first supposed. I must break off again, as I see Governor Mason has come, as he promised, to give me a call. I had hoped to conclude and fill the sheet ere this. I find that we had the fortune to come through the lake in rather slow vessels. There are several upon the lake which make the trip between Buffalo and Detroit in twenty-six or twenty-seven hours. These are large and really splendid boats, carrying little freight, with richly furnished cabins. I will try to arrange matters so as to come down one of these boats. To-morrow I hope to botanize a little.... Mr. Whipple has also asked me to take a ride up to the foot of St. Clair Lake. Now I have nearly filled this very large sheet, and it is so dark I can hardly see to finish. I shall look at the office to-morrow for a letter from home.

I was asked to-day if I would stay here until toward winter! I said I had rather on the whole be excused!

How are the girls? I must write to them specially as soon as I can. Does the doctor go regularly to market every morning? I hope to get away from here early next week. Best remembrances to the doctor. Adieu.

Detroit, August 16, 1838.

My last letter left here, I suppose, in yesterday morning’s boat, and will reach New York in four days. Since its last date nothing whatever has transpired here of any interest. Dr. Houghton arrived here yesterday morning, and as it was a rainy day I spent near the whole time at his house. He is a very energetic little fellow, and the account of his adventures in exploring the unsettled portions of the State is very interesting. He has slept in a house not more than a dozen nights since the commencement of his surveys this season. Mr. Whipple was somewhat unwell, and. I saw him but for a few minutes. I am now going round to his office to read the newspapers, as a mail from New York must have arrived this morning.

Thursday evening.—I spent the whole morning with Mr. Whipple, who is really a downright clever fellow in both the English and the Yankee senses of the term. We compared notes fully about the university and everything about the matter we could think of. I obtained all the information he could afford me about what they were doing, and contemplated doing. I told him fully what I wished to do, and in everything I believe we understood each other and agreed wonderfully. This is important, because Whipple, although secretary of the board, is not a member; yet he is the moving spirit of the whole, and throws his whole energy into the work. We owe the plan adopted as to the arrangement of buildings, etc., to him, and he carried it over considerable opposition. As I know it is just what will please the doctor I mention it here. It is to have the professor’s houses entirely distinct from both the university building and the dormitories of the students. The grounds are nearly square, and are to be entirely surrounded by an avenue. He proposes to have a university building for lecture-rooms, library, laboratory, etc., but to contain no students and no families; to have two lateral buildings for students and the tutors who have the immediate charge of them. Then to build professors’ houses on the other side of the quadrangle, fronting the main building, each with about an acre of land for yard and garden, by which the houses will not only be away from the students, but at sufficient distance from each other to render them retired and quiet. It is quite a point with him that the professors shall have retired, comfortable houses, so that they shall be subject to no annoyance. By the way, Whipple informed me to-day of something that had turned up quite unexpectedly. Your old friend is about to be made a judge. The appointment is expected to be made by the first of next month. He is induced to accept this place because it will release him from the drudgery of professional business and give him nearly six months of leisure each year: which leisure he wishes to devote to the interests of the university. This will make him a member of the board of regents, of which the judges are ex-officio members.

There was to be a meeting of the regents this evening; but as Lieutenant-Governor Mundy had not arrived there was no quorum. It seems that Mundy has not managed well, and has allowed the plans to be delayed, and Davis, instead of sending the plan he promised, is coming out here to see for himself. So it is probable the plans will not all be in for a month or so. Chancellor Farnsworth, the chairman of the committee appointed to confer with me, called to-day, but I was out. I saw him this evening. Whipple had repeated to him the substance of my conversation with him, and I am desired to commit my plans to writing, that he may embody it in his report at the next meeting of the regents. This I am to do to-morrow (D. V.) and to call on the chancellor to-morrow evening, with Whipple, to talk over the matter. There is every reason to believe that my propositions will be adopted. I say nothing about the subject of salary, and avoid the matter’s being broached until the rest is settled. I shall leave it for them to propose. If they employ me, according to the plan I shall present, they can’t well avoid offering to pay me handsomely. Prospective appointments will be offered erelong (the coming fall or early in winter) to Professor Henry, Professor Torrey, and perhaps one or two others. Whipple expressed a desire to attempt to secure Professor Douglass[35] for the department of engineering, etc. Everything looks well. The board are determined to prescribe a course of studies and training which shall bring the school up at once to the highest standard. I do not think that there exists another board of regents in the country that will compare with this for energy and capability. But I must break off, as I have a pretty important lecture to prepare to-morrow. I am afraid that these long letters, in which I set down everything that happens from morning to night, will prove very tiresome to you; but I have nothing else to write about. I am anxious to get through, when I will return as fast as steamboats and railroads will carry me.

Ann Arbor, August 20.

I snatch the few moments that are left me ere the arrival of the stage that is to take me to Detroit to complete my journal. I broke off, I think, late on Thursday evening. On Friday I kept close to my room until I had finished my letter to Chancellor Farnsworth. I sallied out about 4 P.M., showed my letter to Whipple, who approved it altogether and insisted upon our calling on the governor and showing it to him, in order that he might drive the committee a little, if it should be necessary. The servant told us his Excellency was not at home, but Whipple insisted upon his looking into his private room, before he was too confident. And there sure enough we found him. Mason will be down erelong to take a wife. With his approval, the letter was sent round to the chancellor. Whipple, Pitcher, Houghton, and myself spent the evening at the chancellor’s residence, a very pretty place. Mrs. Farnsworth is very ladylike and agreeable. Both the chancellor and his lady are from Vermont, and are more than usually intelligent. In the morning I started alone for Ann Arbor,—thirty miles by railroad, and ten (the road not being completed) by stagecoach. I left Detroit at nine A.M. (after going to the post office and being much disappointed and grieved to find no letter,—please tell the doctor so), and reached this place about noon. The location is really delightful, and in a very few years it will be the prettiest possible place for a residence. But I must reserve all particulars until I see you, if I am allowed that pleasure; for although there is an attempt to keep me here until after the arrival of Mr. Davis, the architect, who is to be here in about ten days, yet I am anxious, deeply anxious, to get back again. If I wait his arrival I shall necessarily be detained here until about the 10th of September. It would be desirable on many accounts, but—I don’t mean to stay.

The grounds for the university are very prettily situated. The only possible fault I can imagine is that they are too level. I have contrived a plan for the arrangement of the grounds which gives satisfaction to the members of the board here, and I think will suit all. I brought letters to Chief Justice Fletcher and Judge Wilkins. I spent the evening at Dr. Denton’s, one of the regents, with several gentlemen and ladies, married and unmarried. It having been ascertained that I was unmarried, it was suggested that I might possibly lose my heart; but I assure you I was never in less danger. On Sunday attended the Presbyterian church here. The pastor, an amiable and very pious old man, was to preach his last sermon to-day, the people having grown too wise for their teachers. His morning discourse from the text, “Christ commended his love to us in that while we were yet sinners,” etc.,—a very good sermon. In the afternoon his farewell discourse was from Acts xx. 32, and did honor to his heart. (The stage is ready.) At twilight I in fancy transported myself to 30 MacDougal Street, where yourself, the doctor, and the children were singing your evening hymns. I sang to myself, as well as I could, all the hymns you were singing, as I supposed, and wished myself with you. This morning I have been botanizing, and have cured for the doctor some specimens (clusters of Eshcol) of this goodly land. So be prepared for a very favorable report. My pen is abominable, and I have not another moment.

(Detroit), 8.30, Monday evening, August 20.

A pleasant afternoon ride brought me back again to this place, where my first care was to run to the post office, nothing doubting that I should find a letter; but I was wofully disappointed, and yet it is the 20th of the month! This is too bad. Do beseech the doctor to write; and especially if I should be detained here until the fourth or fifth day of next month, as I fear may be necessary, ask him to write every other day until you hear from me again.

I am glad to get back here again on one account. The fare here, which is no great matter, I assure you, is excellent compared with the hotel at Ann Arbor. Indeed, I have not taken my place at a single dinner-table for ten days without being reminded of Charles Lamb and his memorable essay on Roast Pig. Here he might riot in his favorite dish (which is in my opinion wretched stuff), as one of the aforesaid juvenile quadrupeds, with a sprig of parsley in his mouth, has been regularly presented to my eyes ever since I left the State of New York. I am sadly bothered as to the course I should take. I suppose I might be able to leave here on Thursday of this week, and, staying over Sabbath at Oswego (making no stay at the Falls), arrive at my father’s Tuesday evening, and at New York on Friday morning. But before I could reach New York, Mr. Davis, according to his appointment, would be at Detroit, and it is possible that a very few days would enable us to settle almost everything about the arrangement of the grounds, the internal disposition of the university building, and the plan of professors’ houses. I feel so strong a hope that the doctor will be persuaded to take a professorship that I have fixed upon the place for his house, should my plan for the arrangement of the grounds be adopted. And I am very desirous to return to you with the plans in my hands, that I may submit them to Dr. T., Prof. Henry, etc., in time to correct our mistakes and suggest improvements. I see also that if I leave now (although I have explained that I made arrangements on leaving to be back by the first of September, and that it is very necessary I should return by that time), I should lose much of the influence I have acquired, and it is more than probable that some error would be committed that we should not see in time to rectify.

I am anxious that the proper means should be adopted to supply the university and houses with water in abundance, and at such a level that it can be taken into the second story of the professors’ houses; I think you may imagine one reason why I am so solicitous about this matter. I was pleased to find on my arrival here that this subject had already received much attention, and there is a determination, on the part of nearly all the regents I have conversed with, to effect this object at whatever expense. Of the different plans in contemplation only one, I think, will effectually answer the purpose. I have some hope that the subject will be acted upon at the first meeting after Mr. Davis arrives. Before that time I suspect we shall not be able to secure the quorum necessary for the transaction of this and other matters of business. I hope also to secure an appropriation for the library, and philosophical and chemical apparatus. I feel pretty confident of accomplishing this result by early autumn.

This is my last entire sheet of large paper, so you may expect no more such tedious letters, unless I find more like it. But if I do not hear from you, and that speedily, I shall be very unhappy. Ask Dr. T. to open any letters that may have come from Norfolk or Washington, and apprise me of the contents, or take any steps that become necessary. Adieu, my dear friend. May our Heavenly Father bless and keep you and yours is the sincere prayer of your attached,

A. Gray.

TO DR. TROWBRIDGE.

New York, October 1, 1838.

Dear Doctor,—My arrangements are now so far completed that I may say, with as much confidence as we may speak of any event subject to ordinary contingencies, that I hope to sail for London on the first of next month. I am of course hard at work; there is no need to tell you that. The second part of “Flora” we hope, by hard work, to have published about the 20th inst.

Yours truly,
A. Gray.

TO HIS FATHER.

New York, November 7, 1838.

I expect to sail to-morrow for Liverpool in the packet-ship Pennsylvania, unless the weather should prove unfavorable, which is not unlikely. The sailing has already been postponed one day, much to my relief, as, although I have not taken off my clothes for two nights, I am not yet quite ready. I hope to get everything in order before I sleep. You can write to me readily at any time.

I have worked very hard for a few weeks past, but I shall now have a fine time to rest. I am in very good health and spirits.

Mrs. Torrey has a fine boy a few weeks old, and is doing well. Kind remembrances to all, in haste,

Good-by,
A. G.

TO HIS MOTHER.

Ship Pennsylvania, 9th November, 1838.

My Dear Mother,—These few lines will be sent on shore in a few minutes by the pilot, and will soon reach you. We shall be out of sight of land in less than two hours more, with a fine breeze. The ship has some motion, but I am not at all sick yet. We have a fine ship and every prospect of a speedy voyage. I shall write at once from Liverpool. Good-by again to all. Letters are called for. Good-by; remember me in your prayers.

Your affectionate son,
A. Gray.

CHAPTER III.
FIRST JOURNEY IN EUROPE.
1838-1839.

It has been deemed expedient to give a somewhat fuller narrative of Dr. Gray’s first visit to Europe than of his subsequent ones. It was then that he formed many personal acquaintances which ripened into lifelong friendships, and received his first impressions of scenes in nature and art which were to become very familiar. His letters home took the form of a very detailed journal, and it is in extracts from this journal, supplemented by letters to other friends, that this narrative consists.

JOURNAL.

Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool, 12 M., December 1, 1838.

We came up the Channel with a gentle breeze, and anchored at half-past nine. At ten minutes past ten I set my feet on the soil (or rather the stone) of Old England. We were very fortunate in our ship, having made our voyage in twenty-one days; while the England (in which, you may remember, I once had intended to sail), which left New York on the first of November, came to anchor just ten minutes before us (thirty days). The Garrick, which sailed on the twenty-fifth of October, arrived here only on Saturday. I must close this letter early in the morning....

Evening.—This short English day has been occupied in good part in getting my luggage from the ship and through the custom house. I sallied out a little past nine in the morning; went first of all to a tailor and ordered a coat (which is to be finished and delivered this evening); then dispatched my letters for home by the United States; found our own ship just going into dock (what docks they are! but as we have always plenty of water we do not so much need them in New York); arranged my luggage, and then proceeded all hands to the custom house (a large new building, rather imposing in appearance), where I was detained until past three o’clock. I had fifteen pounds of books to pay duty upon (fifteen shillings), and nothing to complain of as to the manner of the examination.... After dinner, visited the market, which on Saturday evening is full and busy. It is about twice the size of all the New York markets put together, and a sight well worth seeing. I examined everything scrutinizingly, but will not trouble you with my observations....

Sunday evening, December 2.—Went this morning to the chapel of the school for the blind. The chanting and singing was very fine, and the sight an interesting one. But to me the solemnity of the church service is by no means increased by being chanted; heard a tolerable sermon. In the evening heard Dr. Raffles.[36] His chapel is a gloomy structure externally, but very neat and comfortable within. Dr. R. preached the first of a series of discourses “On the most remarkable events in the early history of the Israelites,” commencing with the bondage in Egypt, which was the subject this evening; a very good sermon, delivered in an impressive (but rather pompous) manner. I am very anxious to get to Glasgow. I have been living in society, for the last three weeks, by no means to my taste, and most of them are still here. It is not very pleasant to spend a Sabbath alone at a hotel; but I suppose I must needs become accustomed to it.

I was not fully aware, until yesterday, how much cause we had for thankfulness at our safe arrival. The gales which we encountered off the Irish coast have caused a great number of shipwrecks, and it is feared that many lives are lost. The England escaped most narrowly.

Feather’s Inn, Chester, Monday evening.—I have, my dear friend, the singular pleasure of writing and addressing to you another leaf of my journal from a city which was founded, according to the directory which lies before me, “in the year, 917 B.C., at which time Jehosaphat and Ahab governed Israel and Judah,”—the only walled and fortified city in England of which the walls are yet in a state of preservation. The city was rebuilt by Julius Cæsar, and was an important Roman station; and there yet remain many vestiges of Roman occupancy; a hypocaust is still to be seen under the hotel in which I am now staying,—so it is said, for I have not yet seen it, having arrived here after dark. But I expect to be very much interested in this queer old town, for which I owe thanks to Dr. Torrey, since it was his recommendation that induced me to come here. I have scampered about the streets this evening, bought some lithographic views, studied the directory, and am prepared for a busy day between Chester and Eaton Hall, should I live till to-morrow. But it is time I should tell you briefly how I got here. This morning soon after breakfast I walked out to the Botanic Garden, delivered a note of introduction to Shepherd,[37] who received me rather politely, inquired after Dr. Torrey, and showed me through the greenhouses. The establishment is not where it was when Dr. T. was here, but was removed further out of town, two or three years ago. The garden occupies eleven acres; the site is well chosen; but being newly planted there is of course little to see. The hothouses are very well, but not extensive; the collections not particularly interesting, except for some old plants that have belonged to the establishment many years.

I took my cloak and umbrella (necessary articles these!), and at 3 P.M. crossed the Mersey in a small uncomfortable black steamboat, about as much inferior to our Hoboken or Brooklyn ferry-boats as a Barnegat wood-schooner is to a packet-ship; and at Birkenhead took an outside seat for Chester (ten miles), though it rained often and blew hard and cold; had a good view of the country until about five miles from Chester, when it grew dark; saw little villages, farm-houses and cottages, cows, etc., all of which is much more interesting to me than the smoky town of Liverpool. I have seen several little things that are new to me. Let us see what I can recollect at the moment. Hedges of holly—those I am pleased with, particularly when sheared and clipped. The prettiest fence is a stone wall over-topped with a close hedge of holly. Ivy in profusion covering great walls, trees, etc., etc.,—we have nothing to compare with it; a flock of rooks,—very like crows, but larger; an English stagecoach,—more of that anon; a coach and four with postilions,—fine. But I must stop here.

P. S.—Liverpool again, Tuesday evening.—I have accomplished a good day’s work to-day. Rose early, made the circuit of the city of Chester on the walls before breakfast, explored all about the town; visited the cathedral, walked to Eaton Hall, four miles and back again; and then, finding there was no coach in the morning until nine o’clock, took an evening coach, and returned here ten P.M., much gratified, but a little fatigued; so good-night. A. G.

Glasgow (Woodside Crescent), December 12, 1838.

I do not just now feel like a traveler. I have been for almost a week, if not at home, yet the next thing to it, in the truly hospitable mansion of our good friends here, where I was received with that cordial kindness which you, having experienced before me, can well understand. Indeed I owe it chiefly to you, who I assure you are not forgotten here. Ecce signum. Both Sir William and Lady Hooker call me, oftener than anything else, by the name of Dr. Torrey. I answer to the name promptly, and am much flattered to be your representative.

I have just stuck fast here, busy among the plants from morning till night. I have been out of the house but twice (except to church on Sunday): once a walk into town with Mr. Hooker, Senior (kind and amiable old man, who insists upon taking me about, and showing me whatever he showed you), and once with Sir William to the Botanic Garden. I am anxious to improve every moment here, where there is so much to be done and such ample means. Arnott has written, inviting me to spend some time with him, which I hope to do, visiting him from Edinburgh, there being now no coach to Stirling or Kinross, from Glasgow direct.... Sir William has given me many interesting plants; we have settled many points of interest. He had our new Nuttallia all figured for the Supplement to “Flora Borealis Americana” as a new genus, and we have recently found it among plants from the Snake country, which, with Douglas’s and other Californian plants, he is publishing as a supplement to “Beechey’s Voyage.” I begged him to adopt the name Nuttallia. He offered at once to publish it as of Torrey and Gray, but I would not consent to this, and I am sure you would agree with me. He has in different ways a great share of Nuttall’s so far,—Pickeringia for instance (which is a shrubby Baptisia), Kentrophyta, etc. I shall be kept here ten days longer, I think; no one else abroad is so rich in North American botany or takes so much interest in it. I am requested to study all his Sandwich Island plants (including my own parcel here), and make an article for the “Annals of Natural History” while here. I think I will, if on looking over the parcels I think I can do the subject justice. Can’t Knieskern[38] safely make the excursion to Sante Fé in the coming spring? If he can, and will work hard, he will make $1000 clear of expenses! All the collectors make money. Hooker is very anxious about it. I hope to find the fifty copies of “Flora” at Wiley & Putnam’s on reaching London. I hope you have seen the partner at New York on the subject, and that the “Flora” will be advertised fully in London before I reach there. But I must close. Don’t fail to write very often. Sir William and Lady Hooker and all the family, old, young, and middle-aged, all send their most affectionate regards. I sit over against your portrait at dinner. It is very like you....

TO JOHN TORREY.

Kinross, Wednesday evening, January 2, 1839.

My journal will inform you of all my movements and doings, and also of the arrival of your welcome letter by the Liverpool, while I remained at Sir William’s. I am much distressed at the thought of your anticipated engagements with Princeton, and wish very much that you could have felt yourself warranted in delaying until after the expected meeting of the regents of the Michigan university, which was to take place on the 10th of December. While there is the slightest hope remaining I do not like to relinquish the thought that we may hereafter work together and live near each other. The fear that this may not be the case has of late rendered me much more anxious to obtain books and specimens, in order that I may get on by myself in case I shall be compelled to work alone. I need not attempt to tell you how much I have enjoyed my visit to Hooker. He is truly one of Nature’s noblemen. We worked very hard for twenty days, and I would have been glad to have stayed as much longer; for as yet I have looked into few books. All the collections of Carex placed in Boott’s hands have been returned to Hooker, and I assisted him in arranging them and selecting for his herbarium; in the course of which I have obtained specimens of nearly all the Northern and Oregonian ones, including one or two which have come in recently, of which I have, when there were duplicates, specimens also for you. The return numbers of those sent you were in many cases strangely misplaced, and Boott has often been sadly confounded. He has studied the genus very critically, hypercritically I may say; for he makes new species where we should think there were too many already. We went over Hooker’s Grasses in the same way, and I have obtained numerous specimens and much useful information which we shall presently require. On Christmas day Joseph Hooker selected from a large Van Dieman’s Land collection a suite of specimens as far as they have been studied (to Calycifloræ), in which there is in almost every instance a specimen for each of us....

In looking over the recent collections from the Snake country, and Douglas’s Californian, I recognized a great portion of Nuttall’s,[39] but by no means all. There was a single specimen of Kentrophyta in excellent fruit; another of Astrophia, with neither flower or fruit, collected long ago by Scouler and mixed in with a species of Hosackia, to which genus I am not sure that it is not nearly allied. Nuttall has made too many Hosackias! The copy of “Flora,” with my notes, has gone round to London, so that I cannot now communicate many curious things noted in the second part. But how did we overlook the Hosackia crassifolia twice over! I am glad you have the fruit of Chapmannia. I am a little afraid of Stylosanthes, of which there is a sort of monograph by Vogel in the current volume of the “Linnæa;” but no plurifoliate ones appear. Hooker has a curious new genus of Chenopodiaceæ, from the Rocky Mountains, figured for the “Icones,” which he wishes to call Grayia! I am quite content with a Pig-weed; and this is a very queer one.

At Glasgow, although my stay was prolonged to twenty days, I was unable in that time to accomplish all I wished with Hooker; and you may be sure we lost no time, and that I could spare very little to visit those objects of interest passing by. I did not omit, however, as you may well suppose, to visit the High Church (the old Cathedral), where I spent an interesting hour, having contrived to go there alone that I might enjoy myself in my own way. From this I visited the new cemetery, which occupies the summit of a hill adjacent to and overlooking the Cathedral. On the very summit, raised on a tall column, is a colossal figure of old John Knox in the attitude of preaching, but ever and anon he seems to cast a scowling look down upon the Cathedral, as if he were inclined to make another attempt to demolish its walls. And well he might, for if what I hear be true, I fancy he would find the preaching now heard within its walls almost as destitute of savor as when the shrine of the Virgin Mary occupied its place in the chapel which bears her name. The Cathedral is now undergoing some repairs; the seats, etc., for the church which occupied the nave are taken away, so that the fine nave presents nearly the original appearance. But the crypt, said to be the finest in the kingdom, is now closed and the key in the possession of an architect at Edinburgh, so that I could not obtain admittance. It was in this place, perchance you may recollect, that the first meeting of Rob Roy with Osbaldistone took place. My Scotch reminiscences have been greatly revived to-day. To-day I have for the first time seen and tasted—only tasted—the two Scotch national dishes, viz., singed sheep’s head and a haggis!

I had arranged to leave Glasgow on the morning after Christmas, when Sir William insisted on my staying at least over Wednesday to sit for my portrait! I contrived, however, to sit on Tuesday (Christmas day), when I was done in about four hours, in the same style as Sir William’s other botanical portraits, and with so much success that it was unanimously proclaimed to be a most striking likeness; in fact the most successful of all the artist’s attempts are said to be this and that of Dr. Torrey, by whose side, it seems, I am destined to be suspended!—a compliment with which I may well feel highly gratified. I believe it is a capital likeness.

I dined out only once at Glasgow, at the house of Mr. Davidson, a very rich don who has made all his money in business here.

Late in the day I went into town to secure a place in the early coach for Stirling and also a bed for the night, as well as to select some little Christmas presents for the Misses Hooker. In the evening Sir William had several friends to dinner, and soon after the breaking up of the evening party I took my leave of these kind friends with no small regret; my contemplated visit of ten days has been prolonged to just twice that number. And now, as we have fairly bid adieu to the old year, I must also bid good-by to you for the present, wishing you, not as the mere compliment of the season, but with all my heart and soul,—a happy New Year. The last New Year I well remember; several of its predecessors also I have had the pleasure of spending with you. I pray God we may be preserved and have a happy meeting before another new year comes.

JOURNAL.

Kinross, Wednesday Evening, January 2, 1839.

I left Glasgow at seven o’clock A.M. on the morning of the 26th December, on the top of a stage-coach bound for Stirling, so famous in song and story,—distant about thirty miles from Glasgow. I arrived about half past ten, in the midst of a heavy rain.

On leaving Stirling for Perth, I took an inside place, as the storm still continued, but it shortly cleared up, and I rode on the outside nearly the whole journey. The only place worth noticing, or rather which I have time to notice, through which we passed was Dumblane, which is just one of those dirty Scotch villages which defy description. If “Jessie the flower of Dumblane” lived in one of these comfortless and wretched hovels I’ll warrant her charms are much overpraised in the song. Here I saw for the first time a genuine ruin; that of the large and once important Cathedral, founded in 1142. During the short-lived establishment of Episcopacy in Scotland I think that the good Leighton was for a time rector of Dumblane. Just beyond Dumblane we passed the field of Sheriff-muir, and beyond this, at the little village of Ardoch, I passed, without being aware at the time, the finest and most entire Roman camp in Britain; we passed some fine country-seats on the road; had a long way the distant Grampian Hills, on which “my father fed his flocks,” in full view; and somewhat late in a fine moonlight evening, I arrived at Perth. As the stage which passed Arlary left Perth at nine o’clock in the morning, and I could not afford to spend a day here, I of course saw little of this famous town.... A pleasant ride brought me to Arlary at eleven o’clock A.M., and Arnott was by the roadside awaiting my arrival. I was sorry to learn that he is not a general favorite among his brother botanists; but although most of them possess greater advantages, he has but one superior in Great Britain, and in most departments very few equals. He received me with great kindness, and I have spent a few days with him very pleasantly indeed. He is a hearty, good fellow, and improves vastly on acquaintance. I was exceedingly pleased with Mrs. Arnott, who is exceedingly amiable and lively. On Sunday it stormed terribly, so that we were unable to leave the house. On Tuesday I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Arnott, Mr. Wemyss, the clergyman of the parish, another clergyman, etc., at Mr. Barclay’s, Arnott’s father-in-law, about six miles from Arlary. About one o’clock to-day, taking leave of Mrs. A. I rode with Arnott to Kinross, and leaving Arnott to write some letters at the hotel in the mean time, I took a boat to Loch Leven Castle,—the prison of the lovely and ill-fated Mary Queen of Scots....

On returning to the hotel I found that Arnott had picked up the dominie of his parish, and had our dinner in readiness. The expected coach arrived soon after, but was crowded. I am consequently obliged to wait for the mail which passes about two o’clock in the morning, and by which, if I am so fortunate as to obtain a seat, I may expect to reach Edinburgh before daybreak.

Waterloo Hotel, Edinburgh,
Thursday evening, January. 3, 1839.

This is my first day in Auld Reekie; and my first business, on sitting down by my quiet and comfortable fireside, shall be to give you a brief account of this day’s work. After taking a reasonable modicum of tea I spent the whole of last evening at Kinross in writing, until two o’clock, at which hour the mail-coach punctually made its appearance; and there was fortunately room inside. We drew up at the post office at Edinburgh at half past six in the morning (raining as usual). I took possession of a very comfortable, even elegant room, very different from the six feet by nine bedrooms of most hotels. This is the finest hotel I have yet seen; the Adelphi at Liverpool is not to be mentioned in comparison. I threw myself on the bed and slept for an hour or two. On waking I drew up the curtains of my windows, and had all at once a magnificent view of this picturesque city, which startled me. From descriptions and a few prints I have somewhere seen I find I had formed a very correct view of this city, as far as it went. It is the finest town I have seen or expect soon to see. It owes much of its beauty to its peculiar site, and to the manner in which the old town acts as a foil to the new. Immediately after breakfast I sallied forth, walked down the street, uncertain which of my letters of introduction I should first attempt to deliver; decided for Greville;[40] so I crossed the North Bridge, which is thrown not over a river but over a part of the town, into the old town, crossed High Street, passed the huge block of buildings occupied by the university, plain and heavy without, but the spacious court within very imposing; and a few minutes’ walk brought me to Dr. Greville’s residence, which looks in front upon a large public square, and on the other the green fields extend up almost to the house,—a complete rus in urbe. Dr. Greville received me very kindly, and seemed well pleased to receive Dr. Torrey’s letter; made many affectionate inquiries, and urged me to stay with him while I remained in town. I was predetermined to decline all invitations of this kind in Edinburgh, but found I could give no reasons for doing so that would not seem strange. Dr. Greville said he well knew I should be obliged to stay either with him or Dr. Graham,[41] who would never let me off; so, as I thought Dr. Greville would prove the most useful and edifying acquaintance, I accepted his invitation and promised to send my luggage sometime to-morrow. We set out to call on Professor Graham; walked over into the New Town, the squares, rows, terraces, and crescents all very fine; called at Professor G.’s, who was as usual out; left Dr. Torrey’s letter and my own card. Left to myself again, after promising to meet Dr. Greville at dinner at the house of a friend of his, I directed my steps to the Castle, which, crowning a high cliff much like that of Stirling, nearly or quite perpendicular except on one side, is visible from almost every part of the city.... Walked far away to Inverleith Terrace to leave my letters for Mr. Nicoll;[42] returned, dressed for dinner, passed an agreeable humdrum evening at a small family party; returned to the hotel, read two American newspapers (little news), found a good fire in my room, and sat down to make these desultory notes. As to all the rest of what I have seen I may have more to say another day. Good-night!

St. George’s Square, 12 M., January 4, 1839.

Before I retire to rest I must hastily and very briefly record my doings to-day, just by way of keeping in good habits; as I am engaged to breakfast at an early hour with Dr. Graham I must soon go to bed. Rose at half past nine (recollect I had not slept the previous night),—a snowstorm. Sight-seeing being out of the question, went to the university, just in time to hear the latter part of Dr. Hope’s lecture (Light Carburetted Hydrogen and Safety Lamp); fine-studied and rather formal manner,—did not wear his gown or ruffles at the wrist! Experiments few but rather neat. In cutting off flame with wire gauze he varied the experiment in a way I had not previously seen, viz., by throwing a jet of ether upon the gauze, which burnt below but did not kindle above,—a very pretty effect. He looks to be not above sixty-five, although he must be ten years over that age. Next heard Professor Forbes,[43] a handsome man of very elegant appearance; a most elegant and lucid lecturer; delivered my note of introduction from Professor Silliman; received me very kindly, but I was obliged to leave at once to hear a lecture from Professor Wilson, the famous Christopher North, one of the most extraordinary men living, very eccentric, a gifted genius, and a man of the most wonderful versatility of powers. The subject to-day was the Association of Ideas. The lecture was rather striking, original in manner, with a few flights of that peculiar eloquence which you would expect from Christopher North. Next heard Dr. Monro (Anatomy); very prosy; the class behaved shockingly, even for medical students! Lastly I heard Professor Jameson[44] a stiff, ungainly, forbidding-looking man, who gave us the most desperately dull, doleful lecture I ever heard. It was just like a copious table of contents to a book,—just about as interesting as reading a table of contents for an hour would be; I may add just as instructive! Dined in a quiet way with Dr. Pardie, a young physician to whom I brought a letter from James Hogg; his wife is a cousin of James; went from the table to the college to hear a botanical lecture from Professor Graham; returned to tea and spent the evening. I found I had quite unexpectedly met with profitable acquaintance, as Dr. and Mrs. Pardie were active and ardent Christians, of the Baptist persuasion, and people of a very delightful spirit. They were well acquainted with Mr. Cheever of Salem, who spent some time in Edinburgh previous to his journey to Palestine. I passed a very pleasant evening, and promised to call on them again before leaving town. Returned in the midst of a violent snowstorm to Dr. Greville’s, where I am now domesticated, having sent up my baggage from the hotel.

Saturday evening.—Rose this morning at half past seven; and at half past eight, according to engagement, went over to the other side of the town with Dr. Greville, to breakfast with Dr. Graham, and then visit the Botanical Garden (deep snow). We looked about the garden, or rather the greenhouses, until afternoon; much gratified with the splendid collections; but the Sabbath draws nigh, and I cannot go on to tell you more about it now. Called on Mr. Nicoll on my return; made a provisional engagement to meet him at breakfast on Monday and examine his sections of woods. Ran about the streets; left a note at the house of Arnott’s brother, to make arrangements (as we have done) for visiting Parliament House, etc., on Monday; returned to Greville’s, dressed for dinner, and looked over books, etc., until Professor Graham and Dr. Balfour,[45] secretary of the Botanical Society, arrived; dined; passed a pleasant evening; after family worship had a little conversation with Dr. Greville, retired to my room, and now, as I am at the bottom of the page and my watch says ten minutes to twelve,—to bed. Adieu.

Monday evening.—Two days have passed since I have taken up my pen to communicate to you my little diary. I still remain domesticated at Dr. Greville’s, where I am received with the greatest kindness, and am as happy as I can be away from home. I like Dr. G. and family much, there is so much true Christian feeling and simplicity. Dr. G. seems much to regret that he was unable to meet Dr. Torrey in Edinburgh. Yesterday was the first Sabbath of the new year, and I heard two sermons adapted to the season; one in the morning, in an Episcopal chapel (the one to which this family belong) from Mr. Drummond, the text being the latter clause of Hebrews viii. 13; a most excellent, faithful, and godly sermon. In the afternoon I occupied a seat Dr. Greville was so kind as to secure for me in the Old Greyfriars (Scotch) Church, which is so crowded that without this precaution you can hardly expect to get into the church when Dr. Guthrie preaches. He is the most striking preacher I ever heard. I could not help comparing him with Whitfield. The text was the first clause of Eccles. ii. 11. I dare not attempt to give you any idea of the discourse. I wish you could have heard it. In this church-yard the remains of the early martyrs of Scotland repose, not far from the Grassmarket, where they were mostly offered up. I stood upon the very spot to-day where they suffered. We had a terrible wind all last night, which, with the rain, carried off nearly all the snow. The morning was so stormy that I could not fulfill my conditional engagement to breakfast with Mr. Nicoll and look at his curiosities. So I repaired to the university at ten; heard Sir Charles Bell,[46] the professor of surgery,—a decent lecturer, but not remarkable. At eleven I heard the celebrated Dr. Chalmers, the professor of divinity. The old man has a heavy, strongly-marked Scotch countenance, which, however, brightens very much when he is engaged in his discourse. His manner is rather inelegant and his dialect broad Scotch and peculiar. But the matter is so rich that he carries all before him. Every word is full of thought, and he occasionally rose to a very powerful eloquence. He is much beloved, and is considered by all parties, perhaps, as the strong man of Scotland. The subject of his lecture this morning was the advantage (and the abuse) of Scripture criticism. It was a treat to hear him. He paid a high compliment, in the course of his remarks, to our Moses Stuart.

The weather growing by this time more tolerable, I walked about town,—visited the Parliament House, the Library of the Writers to the Signet; passed through the Grassmarket, returned here, looked at plants with Dr. Greville; dined; received a parcel from Sir William Hooker containing a few plants I had accidentally left (a few he had given me). A very kind letter informed me that he would be in London about the same time with me (which I had in part expected, and about which hangs a tale I must write soon), and also a fine parcel of letters of introduction for me, both to persons on the way to London, and also on the Continent,—to Delessert, De Candolle, Martins, Endlicher, Humboldt, etc. Truly he is a kind man; he has laid me under lasting obligations. He asks me to say to Dr. Torrey that his Grace of Bedford is anxious to receive also the Hudsonia ericoides from New Jersey, and he will be greatly obliged if he will send a box of it to Woburn early in the spring. Attended this evening a meeting of the Royal Society, Dr. Abercrombie[47] (author of “Intellectual Powers,” etc.) in the chair. Dr. A. is at the head of the profession here; is greatly esteemed, and is a most exemplary Christian. An interesting paper was read by Professor Forbes, of whom I have spoken before; a man whom from his very youthful appearance you could never have imagined as the successful candidate to the professor’s chair against Dr. Brewster. But Dr. Brewster is no favorite in Edinburgh. Other distinguished men were there. I was introduced to Professor Christison,[48] had some pleasant conversation; promised, if practicable, to hear him lecture to-morrow at nine A.M., and look at his museum of materia medica. We had tea after the adjournment, according to the usual custom here, which is a very pleasant one. I only count upon two days more in Edinburgh, and have yet much to do. I am anxious to reach London, where I hope there are letters for me. Good-night. May God bless you all, and keep you.

Melrose, January 10, 1839, Thursday evening.

On the 8th inst., Tuesday, I went immediately after breakfast to the university and heard Professor Christison’s lecture, Materia Medica. He is an excellent lecturer. I spent a half hour with him, in looking over his cabinet of preparations, which contains a large number of fruits, etc., preserved in strong brine instead of spirits. I acquired some useful information concerning the best way to close the jars, for which he has some very neat plans. Then I heard Professor Forbes again; elegant as usual, but he did not succeed very well in his experiments. The next hour I had a rich treat. I heard another lecture from Professor Wilson, on the Association of Ideas, which on this occasion he noticed in a more practical view than before. He recited, in his glowing manner, several passages from Virgil, and a long one from Milton, and gave a long and most eloquent analytic commentary upon each, far exceeding anything of the kind I ever heard before. After visiting the library of the university—a most magnificent room—I set out for Holyrood House.... I bought one or two poor prints, a cast of the seal-ring of Mary, plucked a bit of holly from a bush standing by the place by the altar before which Mary was married to Bothwell, and reluctantly took my leave. There was yet some time remaining, so I set out to climb Arthur’s Seat, which rises abruptly behind Salisbury Crags to the height of eight or nine hundred feet. I attained my wish, and had a beautiful view, from the summit, of the city beneath my feet, and the wide country around. I descended more rapidly than I went up, though at some risk to my neck. Returned to Dr. Greville’s, where I dined and spent all the evening.

I had engaged yesterday to breakfast with Dr. Graham. I therefore set off early for that purpose; afterward accompanied him to the Garden, examined the grounds, etc., passed some time in the splendid palm-house. I spent some portion of the morning also with Mr. Nicoll, examining with the microscope his beautiful collection of recent and fossil wood in thin slices; learned how to prepare them. Then arranged my affairs to leave Edinburgh in the morning. In the evening Dr. Greville and myself dined with Mr. Wilson (gentleman naturalist), the brother of the gifted Professor Wilson; himself almost equally gifted, but with a more healthy tone of mind. He interested us so much that our stay was prolonged until nearly the “wee short hour ayont the twal,” when we parted, after a pressing invitation to visit him at his country residence in case I ever visited Scotland at a more pleasant season. Taking leave of my kind friends the Grevilles, I was early this morning on my way to Melrose. I have been received with the utmost kindness, not only by this agreeable and most excellent family, but among all the acquaintance I have made in Edinburgh. I had purchased for you a collection of hymns, etc., edited by Dr. Greville and his pastor, Mr. Drummond, with which I was very much pleased, and doubt not you would like them much. But Dr. Greville saw it, and afterwards insisted on sending a much handsomer copy to Dr. Torrey, which was accordingly placed in my hands for him. Melrose is about thirty-six miles from Edinburgh, on one of the routes to Newcastle. We came upon the Tweed among a rugged range of hills, at first a very small stream; followed it along the sinuous valley for a long way, until it became a pretty considerable river, for Great Britain; at length the valley grew wider, softer, and in the proper season, doubtless very beautiful. A smaller stream joined it at some distance before us, and as its opening vale came into view, the driver—I beg his pardon, coachman—pointed with his whip to the opposite side and said, “Abbotsford; “ and true enough the turrets of this quaint castellated house were distinguishable, in the midst of a grove mostly of Scott’s own planting, near the banks of the Yarrow. We soon after crossed the Tweed, at the place where the White Lady frightened the sacristan in “The Monastery; “ the scene of which, you know, was laid at Melrose and in the neighborhood. The fine old ruin of Melrose Abbey now came into view, half surrounded by a dirty little Scotch village. Here I abandoned the coach until to-morrow, secured a gig, and was soon on my way to Abbotsford.... I walked back from Abbotsford, noticing more particularly the beauty of the valley, and the fine Eildon Hills which rise behind Melrose, from whose summit, it is said, a very beautiful prospect may be obtained. I then spent the remainder of the afternoon about Melrose Abbey, the most beautiful ruin I have ever seen or expect to see; more beautiful than I had imagined, and just in that state of dilapidation in which it appears to the greatest advantage as a ruin, for were it entire it would be indeed magnificent. I feel now as if I should never care to see another ruin of the kind; and therefore I shall not visit Dryburgh Abbey (where Scott is buried), as I had intended; although I suppose we shall pass by nearly in sight of it to-morrow. I wish I could bring you some sketch or print that would give you some idea of Melrose, but I fear this is impossible. The exquisite carvings in stone, especially, cannot be appreciated until they are seen. It is said (I forget the lines) that Melrose should be seen by moonlight, and this I can well imagine; but this evening there is neither moonlight nor starlight....

Durham, Saturday evening, January 12, 1839.

Soon leaving the Tweed we crossed a range of hills, and came down into the fertile Teviotdale, so famous in border story. Again leaving this valley, we wound our way up the Jedwater, a tributary of the Teviot, rising high up in the Cheviot Hills, just on the line between England and Scotland. We passed Jedburgh, a Scotch village of considerable size and importance, dirty and comfortless of course. Here is an old abbey, which I should have been loth to pass by had I not seen Melrose; thence we ascended the Jed for many a weary mile, until we reached its source high among the Cheviot Hills. Our course was literally “over the mountain and over the moor,” for after a tedious ascent we crossed the boundary line at an elevation of fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. We were by this time thoroughly drenched with mist and rain; the wind forbidding the use of our umbrellas. We immediately commenced our descent, and just at dusk stopped for a hasty dinner at Otterbourne, so famous in the history of the border warfare as the place of the memorable Chevy Chase. It was too dark to see the cross erected to mark the spot where Percy fell. Pass we over the ride from this to Newcastle, as we saw nothing, though we passed near some places of interest,—Chillingham, the residence of the Earl of Tankerville, for example,—and arrived at Newcastle about nine o’clock in the evening. In the morning I delivered notes of introduction from Hooker and Greville to George Wailes, Esq., one of the active members of the Newcastle Natural History Society; visited their fine building and really splendid museum, especially rich in fossil remains and also in the British birds; made arrangements for correspondence and exchange with the Michigan State Survey; was introduced to a botanist or two; visited the castle built by Robert, brother of William the Conqueror, if I recollect aright, which has stood firmly for many a year, and may stand for centuries more, or as long as the world standeth.... Arrived at Durham at eight in the evening. I called almost immediately upon Professor Johnston[49] and delivered Doctor Torrey’s letter and parcel, when we recognized each other as fellow-passengers in the coach from Newcastle, he being a Scotch gentleman,—looking very like my friend Couthouy of the exploring expedition,—whom I was far from imagining would prove to be the professor in the Durham University; took my tea and spent the greater part of the evening with him. He told me he was just about to send a parcel to Doctor Torrey by a friend going next week to America. I must embrace this opportunity to send my letters, now forming a somewhat bulky parcel....

Spent Monday with Professor Johnston in his laboratory, witnessing the progress of some analyses of resins, etc., in which he is now much engaged; also went through the old castle, now used for the university; dined with Professor Johnston at four clock; returned to the hotel.... Took my tea with him, and he accompanied me at half past nine to the coach office whence I took coach for Leeds. I have little to say about Durham University, promising as it is in some respects, because they have adopted the monkish system of Oxford and Cambridge to the fullest extent; the professors and tutors except Johnston are all clergymen; the curriculum includes nothing but classics, a little mathematics, and less logic; their professor of natural philosophy never lectures; they give their professor of chemistry, mineralogy, and geology just fifty pounds a year (nothing for his experiments), and require no one to attend his lectures.

But now I must record some painful news, just learned to-day, which has shocked me exceedingly, but which you will have heard of long ere this reaches you; viz., the loss of the noble ship Pennsylvania, the death of Captain Smith, the first and second mate, and some of the passengers, I hardly yet know how many. I had grown much attached to this ship, and thought highly of its officers, who had been kind to me....

London, January 17, 1839, Thursday evening.

This is dated at this modern Babylon, where I arrived about nine o’clock last evening. I stopped at the White Boar, Coventry Street, Piccadilly; had a quiet night’s sleep; rose early this morning, and had breakfasted and was on my way to Dr. Boott’s[50] (24 Gower Street) before ten o’clock. I found Doctor B. at home; was kindly received and was introduced to his wife, mother, children, and a brother from Boston who is now with him; spent an hour or two with him; heard that Hooker was in town. Though not a public day went to the British Museum; inquired for Brown (Mr. Brown, for he does not like to be called Dr.), and was so fortunate as to find not only the man himself I was so anxious to set my eyes on, but also Hooker, Joseph Hooker, Bennett,[51] and Dr. Richardson.[52] Passed an hour or two. Brown invited Hooker and me to breakfast with him on Saturday morning; went out with Hooker; first to the Linnæan Society; introduced to David Don,[53] a stout Scotchman, and looked through the rooms of the society. Don offered to give me every possible facility in my pursuits, but of course I said nothing to him about Pursh’s[54] herbarium at Lambert’s, of which he was formerly curator; for since he married Lambert’s housekeeper, or cook, I forget which, Lambert will not allow him to come into the house. From here Hooker took me,—stopping by the way at Philip’s, one of the most eminent painters, whose gallery we saw,—to the house of Lambert[55] himself, the queerest old mortal I ever set eyes on. But Carey’s description of the man was so accurate that I should have known him anywhere. I was of course invited to breakfast with him any morning at nine; he showed us his Cacti stuffed with plaster of paris, among others a very curious one called muff-cactus, which really looks just like a lady’s muff and is not much smaller. Lambert’s specimens are the only ones known, and he gave for them something like a hundred guineas,—the old goose! A woman has the care of his collections in place of Don. She stuffs the cacti and seems quite as enthusiastic as old Lambert himself. We went next to the Horticultural Society’s rooms in Regent Street in hopes to find Mr. Bentham; but instead we met Lindley, who received us very politely; he asked me to send him my address the moment I was settled in lodgings.... Here I parted from Hooker for the present, declining an invitation to join him at the dinner of the Royal Society’s Club, for which I was afterwards almost sorry, as I should have met there Hallam, the historian, and some other distinguished men, as also Brown, whose peculiar dry wit is said to have abounded greatly. Hooker seems as anxious to serve me and aid me here in London as at his own home. He is the most noble man I ever knew. Thence I took a cab and drove into the City, through Temple Bar, down Fleet Street; drove round St. Paul’s, to the office of Baring Brothers & Company, who are to be my bankers and to whom my letters here may now be addressed; thence to the office of Wiley & Putnam in Paternoster Row; did not see Mr. Wiley, but learned that the copies of our “Flora” had not arrived, which I am very sorry for, and don’t know how to account for it; called at C. Rich’s, but found no letters, which was a sad disappointment indeed; thence back here to dinner. At eight o’clock went to Somerset House to attend a meeting of the Royal Society, where again I met Hooker and Dr. Richardson. Brown was also present, for the first time in eight years. Royle[56] was in the chair, at which the botanists present sneered much, as they evidently think him too small a man to fill the seat occupied by Newton, etc. I don’t know how he happened to be one of the vice-presidents. I was introduced to him after the meeting, as also to many others. J. E. Gray,[57] who was very polite, gave me and Joseph Hooker tickets for Faraday’s lecture of to-morrow evening, invited me to dine with him to-morrow, etc. I was glad to make the acquaintance of Mr. Criff[58] (or Clift) the curator of the Hunterian Museum, the man who exposed Sir Everard Home, who invited us to come and see that museum. While we were conversing, a gentleman, whom Hooker did not at the time recognize, addressed us, and after some conversation with me asked me if I would like to be introduced to Sir Astley Cooper, and see his museum. I answered of course that it would be a great gratification, when he introduced himself as Bransby Cooper, the nephew of Sir Astley,—of whom I have heard formerly not a little,—gave me his address, and Joseph Hooker and myself are to call on him on Monday next. I was introduced also to Dr. Roget,[59] but saw not so much of him as I could wish; so you see I have met more distinguished men in one day than I might elsewhere meet with perhaps in a whole life. But I must break off; I am engaged to breakfast in the morning with Hooker, to meet also Dr. Richardson....

White Bear, Piccadilly, 18th January, 1839, Friday evening.

I am not yet in private lodgings, but hope to be so to-morrow. You must not expect me to mention half the things I see in a day here in this busy metropolis, where as yet everything I have seen has been viewed in the most desultory manner. I breakfasted with Hooker and Richardson, who left me for a half hour at the Adelaide Gallery, where I saw very many things to interest me, which we will not stop to talk of now, as I hope to be there again; among other things, a live Gymnotus or Electrical Eel, which gives powerful shocks, they say, for I did not choose to feel it myself. Thence we visited the Museum of the Zoölogical Society, for which Dr. Richardson not only procured us free admittance, but procured for us an order to visit the Zoölogical Gardens; made calls with Hooker, whom Joseph and I left with the Chancellor of the Exchequer in Downing Street, while we passed by Westminster Hall and Abbey down to Bentham’s, who has a beautiful residence as retired as the country. Found Bentham an exceedingly pleasant and amiable man; spent an hour or two, till Hooker came in; accepted an invitation to dine with him to-morrow; went into the City; introduced to Richard Taylor,[60] at his printing-office; were all invited to breakfast on Tuesday morning next; went to Longman’s famous bookstore and warehouse; one of the young Longmans politely showed us over the building, showed us room after room filled with solid literature,—a most surprising quantity; went by St. Paul’s again, saw the Bank, etc.; took an omnibus again to West End; passed by the London University, etc. Joe Hooker and I went to dine with J. E. Gray, who has taken it into his head to show us no little attention; he has lately married a rich wife, a widow, much older than himself; I was quite pleased with her. Went to the Botanical Society,—poor concern; and then to hear Faraday give the first lecture of the season at the Royal Institution, Mr. Gray having kindly offered us tickets. I was unexpectedly introduced to Faraday just before the lecture; pleasant man, with a very quick and lively expression of countenance. The lecture was on Electrical Eels, etc.; most elegant lecturer he is; brilliant and rapid experimenter. I hope to hear him again.

Saturday evening, January 19.—I am now in lodgings, No. 36 Northumberland Street, near Northumberland House, Charing Cross, in the room just vacated by Dr. Richardson; sixteen shillings a week, and a shilling for my breakfast when I choose to take it here. It is half past eleven. I have just come in; no fire, but fortunately my occupation for to-day is soon told. Hooker, Joe, and I breakfasted with Brown at his house, and stayed with him until four o’clock in the afternoon! I have a good deal to say about him, but not here. He is a curious man in other things besides botany. He has a few choice paintings, and a few exquisite engravings he has picked up on the Continent. I coveted them for you. They are just what we should be delighted to have. I dressed for dinner, then drove with my luggage to my present lodgings, and then took up Hooker and Joe for Bentham’s to dinner at half past six, where we met Lindley and Mr. Brydges; the dinner was just the beau ideal of taste and simple elegance. In the drawing-room coffee was served up, and in a half hour Assam tea. I am greatly pleased with Bentham, and delighted with Mrs. B. But more of this anon. We are to breakfast with him on Monday, and then make up a party to Kew and the Horticultural Gardens. The house he lives in, a pleasant place, plain but tastefully furnished and arranged, was the one where Jeremy Bentham lived....

Tuesday evening, January 22.—I have to account for myself for two days past, but fortunately this can be done in general terms in few words. Were I to enter very fully into particulars I should fill several sheets. Yesterday Sir William Hooker, Joseph, and I breakfasted according to appointment with Bentham, and set out, although the day was rainy, for a visit to the Horticultural Gardens at Chiswick. We went in an omnibus, and I noticed on the way Apsley House (Duke of Wellington), and the monument to his Grace in Hyde Park, near his house (what is the good of honors, indeed, if one cannot see them?), Holland House, which I saw from some distance, etc. We found Lindley at the Gardens, and looked through the grounds. They have very few hothouses as yet, but have just dug the foundation of a very splendid one, which is, however, to form one wing merely of the general plan. We went to Kew, about two miles farther, and looked through those fine old grounds and gardens. The hothouses and the collections in them were much larger and more interesting than I had anticipated. They are particularly rich in New Holland and Cape plants. There is a new conservatory for large plants, a fine one certainly, which cost six thousand pounds, and the roof was taken from the greenhouse at Buckingham Palace, and therefore cost nothing. It seems an extravagant job, and Mr. Bentham feels sure a much better one of the same size could be built for four thousand pounds. While here we paid a visit to Francis Bauer,[61] now eighty-five years old, and much broken down, but still hard at work, and making as beautiful drawings as ever (beyond comparison excellent), and as delicate microscopical examinations. He has lately been working at fossil Infusoria, and showed me figures of Bailey’s plate in “Silliman’s Journal” which he had copied. He was greatly pleased when I offered to send him specimens of the things themselves. He showed me the original red snow from arctic America, and also his splendid drawings. Returned to town, and dined with Bentham.

This morning we breakfasted with Richard Taylor in the City; and went afterwards to the College of Surgeons, by appointment Hooker had made, to see Professor Owen, and the fine museum of the college under his charge (John Hunter’s originally); a magnificent collection it is, in the finest possible order; and the arrangement and plan of the rooms is far, very far better and prettier than any I have seen. I shall make some memoranda about it. We there met Mr. Darwin, the naturalist who accompanied Captain King in the Beagle. I was glad to form the acquaintance of such a profound scientific scholar as Professor Owen,—the best comparative anatomist living, still young, and one of the most mild, gentle, childlike men I ever saw. He gave us a great deal of most interesting information, and showed us personally throughout the whole museum. I am every day under deeper obligations to Sir William Hooker, to whom I owe the gratification of forming so many acquaintances under such favorable circumstances. Hooker stays over night often at his brother-in-law’s, Sir Francis Palgrave, the great antiquarian and Saxon scholar, Keeper of the Records, of whom I have read so much in the “British Review.” His eldest daughter, Maria, is spending the winter there. On Hooker’s return on Monday he was so kind as to bring me an invitation from Lady Palgrave to dine with them on Saturday, which will be the last I shall see of Hooker, as he is to set out on Monday for home. In the afternoon we spent an interesting hour in looking through the vast halls of the British Museum, particularly through the sculpture, the Elgin marbles, Egyptian antiquities, etc. These last are much more grand than I had supposed. Indeed, I was struck with wonder. I hope sometime to spend a day or two in looking through these rich collections. Called on Lyell the geologist.

We dined with Dr. Roget, the secretary of the Royal Society, where we met Sir Francis Staunton, a great Oriental scholar and traveler, Professor Royle, Dr. Boott, and two others whose names I forget. But best of all Dr. Boott brought me a letter from Dr. Torrey, dated December 25 (Christmas), and I soon contrived to get into a quiet corner to read it; right glad I was to hear from home once more; I will answer it to-morrow. We left very early, as Hooker was to go to Hampstead, where Sir Francis Palgrave resides. Joe and I walked with him, till he should find a stage; but as none overtook us and the night was fine we walked the whole way, three or four miles, and having left Sir William safe and sound, and seen Sir Francis Palgrave for a moment, the remainder of the family having retired to rest, Joe and I walked back again to town. I confess I am a little tired, and am quite willing to go to bed. A Dieu.

Wednesday, January 23, 1839.—Breakfasted and dined with Mr. Bentham, and studied plants with him all day and a good portion of the evening, excepting an hour or so in the morning when we walked out, and Bentham took me through the splendid house of the Athenæum Club, and we also visited the National Gallery, and saw fine paintings in great numbers from almost every artist ancient or modern. It is very near my lodgings, and I intend to visit it again. Here are some of West’s original pictures, and likewise the paintings or sketches of Hogarth from which his well-known engravings were taken. They are much more expressive than the prints. E. would enjoy many of them very much, and especially some of Wilkie’s of the same kind.

I am to take my breakfast in my lodgings to-morrow morning, which I have as yet done but once. I sent yesterday my letter of introduction to William Christy, who lives out of town, and received to-day a most polite invitation to dine with him to-morrow, and meet Hooker and Joe.

Thursday.—Breakfast at home. Call with Joe Hooker on Bransby Cooper, and then on Sir Astley Cooper; pleasantly received, saw some very curious preparations; spent the morning with Bentham, and dined at Mr. Christy’s, Clapham Road, where I spent an agreeable evening. Returning, wrote a letter to Dr. Torrey to go by mail to-morrow to Bristol for the Great Western.

Friday evening.—I breakfasted at my lodgings this morning, and afterwards walked out with Sir William and Joe Hooker to Regent’s Park; went to the Coliseum to see the Panorama of London, and well worth seeing it is. It will save me a visit to the top of the dome of St. Paul’s, I think, for the Panorama is said to be more perfect than nature. I will say no more about it, as Dr. Torrey has seen it. The illusion is perfect, were it not for some unseemly cracks in the sky! We called on Dr. Boott; then went into the City. Our object was to visit the museum at the India House (where the poet Lamb spent so great a portion of his life). I made the acquaintance, of Dr. Horsfield,[62] the curator, who also collected the best part of the museum in Java and India. He is an American, if you can so call a man who has not been in the country since the year 1800. I was much interested with the library, which contains a vast quantity of Indian idols, sculptures, and antiquities, as well as fine Chinese curiosities. It is immensely rich, also, in Indian, Persian, and Arabic manuscripts; the finest in the world in such things. Some of the Persian (Arabic) manuscripts are most beautifully illustrated, or illuminated, and the writing is neater than you can conceive. Here is preserved also an original petition of the India Company to Oliver Cromwell, with the answer in his own rough and strong handwriting.[63] ... We dined at Lambert’s, where we found Robert Brown, Mr. Ward,[64] who had been looking for me, and immediately asked me to name a day to see his plants in the Wardian cases, and an evening erelong to examine some thirty or forty first-rate microscopes which he has in his house; also Dr. Bostock, Mr. Benson, a legal gentleman, a great scholar and author; and last, not least, yet certainly almost the last person I should have expected to see, Lady Charlotte Bury (formerly Lady Charlotte Campbell), whom you will remember as the author of that book on the secret history of the court of George IV. and his Queen, of which we read together, that summer, the deeply interesting review by Brougham. Lady Bury is now supposed to be sixty years old, and was for a long time considered as the handsomest woman in Great Britain; she still looks well, though too embonpoint, and dresses like a young lady, with short sleeves. She is of a high family, a sister of the present Duke of Argyll, and is certainly talented; she is said to be quite poor. Her daughters are married into families of rank, except one (Miss Bury) who was with her mother at Lambert’s, whom Sir William Hooker thought remarkably handsome, but I did not. As I have not a high respect for Lady Bury’s character I did not throw myself into her circle, and saw almost nothing of her the whole evening. We came away early.

Saturday evening.—I paid a visit, this morning, in company with Joe Hooker, to the Zoölogical Gardens in Regent’s Park, where we saw all kinds of four-footed beasts, and fowl, and creeping things. There are four giraffes, but none quite so large as those we saw in New York. There were a very fine orangoutang, very gentle and amiable, a curious spider-monkey, and other curious animals in great plenty. The finest residences I have seen in London are those which look upon Regent’s Park. Returning, we called upon Lambert, Saturday being a kind of public day with him, and there met that Nestor of botanists, Mr. Menzies,[65] whom I found a most pleasant and kind-hearted old man; he invited me very earnestly to come down and see him, which I will try to do some day. Meanwhile I expect to meet him on Tuesday at Mr. Ward’s.

We just had time to go down into the City to call on Mr. Putnam (publisher) and to learn that copies of the “Flora” had arrived, but were not yet cleared from the custom-house; then took the Hampstead coach to dine at Sir Francis Palgrave’s. Excepting Hooker and Joe, I almost forget who the guests were. I was not interested in any of them particularly. Sir Francis was very agreeable; his conversational powers are almost equal to his erudition. His lady, who looks very much like Lady Hooker, is, like all that family, learned and accomplished. I was glad also to meet Hooker’s eldest daughter.

The boys interested me much; I think I never saw more intelligent lads. Sir Francis asked me to call at the Chapter-House, Westminster Abbey, his office as Keeper of the Records, and he would show me the Domesday Book. How a sight of it would electrify Dr. Barrett! He asked me at dinner the meaning of the term locofoco as applied to a party in the United States. I gave him the story of the meeting in Tammany Hall which gave rise to the designation, which afforded much amusement.

Sunday evening, January 27.—I was better prepared than last Sabbath, for I took pains to call yesterday at the office of the Religious Tract Society, and found where Baptist Noel preached. It is St. John’s Chapel, at considerable distance from here. Nevertheless I attended there to-day, and have reason to be glad that I did so, for I heard a most excellent sermon in the morning, from Psalm ciii. 10-12. Mr. Noel is a most simple, winning preacher, and his sermon was the most thoroughly evangelical and earnest I ever heard from an Episcopal pulpit. I wish I could give you some idea of it. I took notes for your benefit as well as I could, and have written them out, but they will give you a very imperfect idea of it. The church, a large one, with double galleries around three sides, was crowded. This afternoon his assistant, Mr. Garwood, preached, and there was room enough, but we had a good sermon. This Mr. Garwood, you may have seen by the papers, has lately been persecuted a little by his bishop, for acting as secretary to the London City Mission. Both he and Mr. Noel are doing much good in raising the standard of piety and active benevolence in the church they belong to. I hope by next Sunday to inquire out Dr. Reed’s church. I have not been out this evening, but have employed myself in copying out my poor notes on the morning sermon, which I trust soon to forward to you.

Monday evening, January 28, 1839.—I spent the morning with Bentham, by appointment, with whom I breakfasted and looked at Leguminosæ until two P.M.; then joined Joe Hooker (took leave of Sir William this morning, who has returned to Glasgow, via Woburn); made calls, among others on Dr. Rostock, who received me very politely; we then dined together at a chop-house; called on Dr. Boott, spent an hour or two in his very pleasant family; then attended a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society, in which all that interested me was a paper by Professor Robinson of New York, on some interesting matters of ancient geography connected with his travels in Asia Minor. The paper was sent to the Geographical Society by a learned German geographer; it excited much interest....

London, January 24, 1839.—I have so far been seeing men and things chiefly, but have had one or two botanical sittings with Bentham, who is a thoroughly kind and good fellow. He immediately had all the remaining parcels of Douglas’s Californian and Oregon plants sent down to his house, and has supplied me as well as he could; and a valuable parcel I shall have of them....

I have seen considerable of Brown, and like him much better than I thought, although he is certainly peculiar. The day we breakfasted with him we remained until four P.M., and he offered to show anything I wished at the British Museum. He showed us all Bauer’s drawings in his possession (I have since seen Francis Bauer). He has much more general information than I supposed; is full of gossip, and has a great deal of dry wit.

He is growing old fast, and I suspect works very little now, and I fear there is not very much more work now to be expected of him. He knows everything!...

I spent a good part of yesterday with Bentham, and was to have met Hooker at the Geological Society in the evening; but botany prevailed and I stayed with Bentham, and was a little sorry afterwards, as I should have seen at the society Whewell! Daubeny! Chantry the sculptor, etc.—I have bought a colored copy of Wallich’s “Plantæ Asiatiecæ Rariores,” 3 vols. fol., very fine, for £15; the publishing price was £36,—the present price by Henry Bohn, who has bought up not only this but almost every other expensive British work on natural history, is £26. It is not yet come round from Edinburgh. I will soon send it to you.... I have seen the “Atakta Botanica” of Endlicher, where there is a plate of Ungnadia (not Ungnodia, as spelled in “Companion to the Botanical Magazine”), but no letter-press as yet....

January 30, Wednesday evening.... Yesterday morning Joe Hooker and myself breakfasted together, and then paid a visit to Westminster Abbey, which we examined in every part, from Poets’ Corner to Henry VII.’s Chapel....

As we left the Abbey (where, by the way, we were most thoroughly chilled with our long stay), we went into the Chapter House adjoining, a very antique building crammed with old records and musty manuscripts, and Sir Francis Palgrave kindly showed us the famous Domesday Book, which is in a perfect state of preservation; all the writing perfectly distinct, and so plainly executed that we could read it, here and there, with moderate facility. He showed us a copy of a treaty made with France by Cardinal Wolsey, of which the immense seal appended was cut in gold, and of the most elaborate workmanship. We saw also the original papal bull sent to Henry VIII., constituting him “Defender of the Faith”! We went from this to Westminster Hall; saw the large room, which is very fine; looked into the Court of Exchequer, and saw the Lord Chancellor and other judges in their full-bottom wigs, most funny to behold, I assure you; and the barristers with their queer horse-hair wigs, frizzled on the top of their heads, but tied up into nice and regular curls behind, which fall upon their shoulders. The case of the Canadian prisoners was then under consideration. We then rode in an omnibus to the City and visited St. Paul’s Church, which, grand as it is, does not show to advantage after Westminster Abbey. The monumental statuary is very fine; some of it I would mention, but the extreme lateness of the hour obliges me discreetly to break off and finish my account of the day hereafter. Bon soir, or rather Bon jour!

Thursday evening.... To commence where I broke off with Tuesday. We went to dine, by appointment, with Mr. Ward, the plant-case man, at three P.M., which hour was appointed for the purpose of showing us the plant-cases, etc., by daylight. Ward is one of the most obliging men I ever knew. I was perhaps a little disappointed in his plants, but this is the very worst season of the year, particularly in London, and his house, which is in the heart of the city, near London Docks, is very badly situated as to light. But I have learned something from him, and feel confident that I shall be able to manage our plant-cases much better hereafter. Menzies was there, and a truly kind-hearted old man he is. I was to have returned in time to spend the evening at Bentham’s, but owing to the stormy weather I did not reach my lodgings till it was too late. On Friday (a snowy day) I was out rather late; went to Bentham’s, where I spent the whole morning, dined with him and Mrs. Bentham, three in all!—they have no children, and live in the most cosy and quiet way you could imagine—and spent the whole evening with him in labeling plants which he selected for me from his duplicates. To-day, Joseph Hooker having concluded to postpone till this evening his departure for Glasgow, and having written accordingly to Ward to meet us, we visited the famous greenhouses and conservatories of Loddiges. Miss Maria Hooker was with us, having come out from Hampstead for the purpose. It is rather a long ride to Hackney, but we were well repaid. The collection of Orchideæ is immense and very beautiful, but a very small portion is now in flower. The palm-house, ample and magnificent as it is, rather disappointed me; it seemed not so much larger than that of the Edinburgh garden, and the plants are not in such nice order. Loddiges was very kind to me. Ward selected a few pretty plants for Miss Hooker. I forgot for the moment that there was such a world of waters between us, and was on the point of selecting some for you know whom; I am not sure that I did not bring some after all.

Loddiges took us to his house and showed his collection of humming-birds, which is the finest in the world. He had nearly 200 species, and usually several specimens of a kind, very beautifully mounted and arranged. You can’t imagine how beautiful they are! They are his great pets, and I do not wonder. I returned through the City, stopped a few moments at the British Museum, dined with Joe Hooker at his hotel near me, and shortly after saw him start for Glasgow. I sent by him a copy of “Outre Mer” to Lady Hooker. At nine P.M. I went to the meeting of the Royal Society, heard a paper read of the Hon. Fox Talbot’s on the power of objects not only to sit for, but to draw their own portraits, which has just been making a great noise in France. It is done by the influence of the light of the sun upon paper prepared by nitrate or chloride of silver. Talbot seems to have found out all about it long ago, but the French have published first. I will write the doctor more particularly about it, and send the “Athenæum” containing the account when it appears.

I have neglected to say that I received two days ago a very kind note from Lindley inviting me to come down to his place, dine with him on Sunday next, stay all night, spend Monday at his herbarium, and meet a few botanical friends at dinner, and return next morning. I declined of course the invitation as far as it related to Sunday, but accepted it for Monday, and offered to get down to Turnham Green in time to breakfast with him. This morning I received another note from him, pointing out the way in which I may reach his house in time. I have also a letter from Francis Bauer, inclosing some European Infusoria, in return for a few of Bailey’s I gave him. I will send a portion to Professor Bailey.

Friday evening, February 1.—I spent the earliest part of the morning in my own room; then went to Lambert’s, and commenced the examination of Pursh’s plants. After dining in a simple way by myself, I went to Bentham’s, by appointment, to spend the evening in looking out duplicate plants. I found him and Mrs. B. sitting cosily together in the study. We had a cup of tea and some chat, and then fell to work until half past eleven, when I came away walking as usual by Westminster Abbey, of which I often get very good nocturnal views.

Saturday evening, February 2.... Brown has been very kind to me, in his peculiar way. I have seen him but twice since Hooker and I breakfasted with him, but I hope soon to be at work at the British Museum and to see more of him. He is very fond of gossip at his own fireside, and amused us extremely with his dry wit, but in company he is silent and reserved. I have found out also that it does not do to ask him directly any question about plants. He is, as old Menzies told us, the driest pump imaginable. But although he will not bear direct squeezing, yet by coaxing and very careful management any one he has confidence in may get a good deal out of him. He tells me that Petalanthera, Nutt., is a published genus, and promises to give me all the information about it I desire. I asked him some question about the manner in which the vessels of ferns uncoil. He at once remarked, “They unroll like a ribbon”! Quekett has been examining them, so has a botanist in India; all are much interested in them. I placed Bailey’s specimens afterwards in his hands and also some of the Infusoria, which he expressed himself much pleased with when I saw him at Lambert’s. By the way, the Infusoria were sent by Bailey himself. I delivered also the parcel for Lindley, and gave the rest I had mostly to Dr. Roget, Mr. Lyell,[66] and Francis Bauer, who were all very glad to get them. I have saved a few for Mr. Ward’s microscopical party which he is to give on Wednesday of week after next.... I shall also order, for Sullivant, Hooker’s “Icones Plantarum,” which will be continued, as Hooker furnishes all the matter for nothing and gives the plates, finding paper and everything. Although there is not so much detail as I could wish, yet it is becoming a very valuable collection for a student of natural orders....

Monday evening.—I have seen the original Taxus nucifera, of Thunberg, both leaves and fruit. Arnott should have paid more attention to it. It is very like Torreya! and doubtless a congener,—and so Brown insinuates. I will see more about it soon. A new edition of Lindley’s “Introduction to Botany” is preparing! Sullivant wants, I suppose, a microscope of single lenses—a good working instrument—and an achromatic. This last I think I shall procure for him in London, where they produce more perfect instruments than the French. Can you send Bentham the Lindernias? He wishes much to examine them; send good corollas.

Arnott seems to think much more of Nees von Esenbeck than anybody else. It is generally thought he is in his dotage, and a sad, very sad splitter of straws....

I had some thoughts of going to Paris via Leyden, to see if I can coax anything out of Blume, but he seems to have behaved rather strangely to all the English botanists I have yet met with. You ask whom I liked best in Scotland: Hooker is all in all!

A new Antarctic expedition is planned; indeed is settled upon nearly, to be commanded by James Ross. But a part of the administration throw difficulties in the way. If it goes Joseph Hooker is to be the naturalist.... By the way, Corda’s “Memoir on Impregnation of Plants” turns out to be mere humbug, and it seems there is little dependence to be placed upon him....

Tell Bailey I am every day getting information that will be valuable to him, in the microscopical way. I have a new correspondent for him, Mr. Edwin J. Quekett,[67] 50 Wellclose Square, London, an excellent microscopist. I will write soon what he wants, and he will send through me some microscopical objects.

P. S.—I have just had the offer of a chance to examine Walter’s herbarium as much as I like!—to take it into my possession for a week if I like! and that after I had nearly given up all hopes of it.

February 5, eleven o’clock, evening.... I think I mentioned in those letters how yesterday was spent, viz., that I rose early, took stagecoach for Turnham Green, near Chiswick, where Lindley resides, breakfasted and spent the day. Lindley was certainly very civil. Mrs. Lindley is a quiet lady of plain manners and apparently very domestic habits. Miss Drake, whose name appears as the artist in all of Lindley’s plates almost, was present, and is, I judge, a member of his family, and perhaps a relative of Mrs. Lindley. I saw Lindley’s splendid “Sertum Orchidaceum,” and a much more luxurious work, the “Orchidaceæ of Mexico and Guatemala,” by Bateman, a very large-paper work à l’Audubon. We looked over some families together in a desultory way, and I took up the Lupines and compared ours carefully with Lindley’s, which were named by Agardh. At dinner met Dr. Quekett and Mr. Miers,[68] a traveler in Brazil. On reaching my room I found a note from Bell, the zoölogist (to whom I brought a letter from John Carey, but left at his house, not being able to see him), inviting me dine as his guest at the Linnæan Club, before the meeting of the Linnæan Society. Fortunately, as I do not like club-dinners, I had previously accepted Bentham’s invitation to dine quietly with him and Mrs. B. on that day, so I sent a note of declinature. I have already told you of my failure, by my own carelessness, of seeing the opening of Parliament, which I regret, as I should like to see the peers in official costume, and the peeresses in full dress.

It did not break my heart, but I returned to Bentham’s and looked over plants until the hour approached to take my place in the park to see the queen, and—what is finer—her superb horses, with what success I have already said; thence to the Horticultural Society, where I received the welcome letters. After dispatching my parcel of letters I took a cab for Bentham’s, as it was raining finely, where we dined in his quiet, elegant way. I don’t think Dr. Torrey saw enough of him, at least in his own house, to appreciate him fully....

You may well infer from my being so much with him that he is my favorite....

Wednesday evening.—After breakfast to-day I went to Lambert’s, thinking to finish nearly the examination of Pursh’s plants, but I found Lambert on the point of going out, though the morning was unpleasant. So I was obliged to retrace my steps; and as a dernier ressort I went to the British Museum, and commenced my examination of the Banksian Herbarium. Brown was there most of the time, but did very little except to read the newspaper and crack his jokes. I broke off at four o’clock; went down to the City, called on Mr. Putnam, took a parcel of late American newspapers away with me, dined, went up to Dr. Boott’s, where I spent the evening so pleasantly that eleven o’clock arrived before I thought of it. It is now twelve. On my return here I found my parcel had arrived from Edinburgh, the beautiful copy of Wallich’s work, a very complete and pretty set of British Algæ from Dr. Greville, and some letters of introduction for the Continent which he has obligingly favored me with. I must write a letter of thanks to-morrow....

Went to Ward’s to see the tunnel.... We had tea, Miss and Mrs. Ward regaled us with music,—and both play extremely well; then Ward and I looked over plants until nearly half past ten, when we had supper, a very substantial one, and I took my leave, arriving at my lodgings a little after twelve....