Darwin Slept Here - Eric N. Simons [30]
I’m not sure Darwin himself could have answered this question. And he did occasionally consider it. In a delightful concluding chapter in his autobiography titled “An estimation of my mental powers” (a segment dedicated for the most part to lamenting that he no longer enjoyed poetry) Darwin evaluated his mental qualities like this: “I have no great quickness of apprehension or wit . . . My power to follow a long and purely abstract train of thought is very limited; I should, moreover, never have succeeded with metaphysics or mathematics. My memory is extensive, yet hazy. . . . I have a fair share of invention and of common sense or judgment, such as every fairly successful lawyer or doctor must have, but not I believe, in any higher degree.” On the plus side, he wrote, “I think that I am superior to the common run of men in noticing things which easily escape attention, and in observing them carefully,” and “From my early youth I have had the strongest desire to understand or explain whatever I observed,—that is, to group all facts under some general laws.”
That early youth was spent unremarkably, perhaps, but in a way that prepared him well for life on the Beagle: outdoors, and in collecting plants and animals. Darwin’s family hailed from Shrewsbury, a small country town three hours west of London by train. So while Nathan f i nished lecturing sixteen-year-olds on the merits of the roundabout, I went to visit some friends in Shrewsbury who lived a few blocks from Darwin’s old haunts.
Although Shrewsbury has grown a bit since, Darwin was a country boy. He entertained himself in the great outdoors as a child, wandering alone along the Severn River, which wound just behind his home, and where he could dabble in hunting and fishing. He liked collecting all sorts of plants and animals from the outdoors, but became particularly smitten with collecting beetles, a mania apparently quite popular in England at the time. “I will give proof of my zeal,” Darwin wrote in his autobiography. “One day, on tearing off some old bark, I saw two rare beetles and seized one in each hand; then I saw a third and new kind, which I could not bear to lose, so that I popped the one which I held in my right hand into my mouth. Alas it ejected some intensely acrid fluid, which burnt my tongue so that I was forced to spit the beetle out, which was lost, as well as the third one.” A cartoon, drawn at the time by a friend of Darwin’s, shows the young man wearing a top hat and riding a beetle, waving his collector’s net above the caption, “Go it Charlie!”
Within half an hour of arriving in Shrewsbury,