CHAPTER IV.

A DECADE OF WORK AT HOME.

1840-1850.

On Dr. Gray’s return from Europe, the University of Michigan not yet

needing his services, he settled in New York to work on the “Flora of

North America.”[122]

In 1841 he made his first journey to the mountains of North Carolina, of

which he wrote an account in the “American Journal of Science” in the

form of a letter to Sir William Hooker.

The country west of the Mississippi was just now opened to exploration,

and for some years continued to afford an immense amount of new material

to the botanist. Dr. Gray, and his friends Dr. Torrey and Dr. Engelmann

especially, interested themselves in sending collectors with the various

expeditious, explorations, boundary surveys, etc., and were kept very

hard at work in studying and distributing the several collections as

they came in. The difficulties of communication were great, postage was

very dear, and the post-office rule that sheets, no matter of what size,

could be sent as one letter, while the addition of any separate

inclosure was utterly forbidden, added difficulties almost

insurmountable to the transmission of any specimen. Even as late as 1850

the large parcels from St. Louis were sent by steamboat to New Orleans

and then by sailing vessel to New York or Boston.

Foreign communication was not much better, as Dr. Gray writes to Sir

William Hooker in March, 1840: “I have been waiting during the winter to

write by some of the steamships, but they have disappointed us, and,

though long expected, none reached us until the arrival of the Great

Western a week or more since, which brought us fifty-six days’ later

intelligence from Europe.”

TO W. J. HOOKER.

NEW YORK, May 30, 1840.

I have been tolerably industrious for some years, but have never labored

as I have done this winter and spring. But I look now for a little

respite, which I greatly need. I have this afternoon written the

description of the last plant we have to give in the 1st volume of the

“Flora” (a new cucurbitaceous genus, of which more anon); have prepared

the last sheet for the press,--that is, of the work proper, which

reaches to page 656 instead of 550, as intended; and have before me

proofs of the supplement extending to page 672; what is yet to come will

make up the volume to 720 pages! It has extended beyond all calculations

or bounds, but we could not stop short. I hope to have done with the

proofs early next week, when I expect to go immediately into the country

and recruit for three or four weeks, for I am quite fagged out. Except,

however, mere fatigue and the usual consequences of loss of rest, I was

never, perhaps, more perfectly in health, and a fortnight or so of

botanizing will restore my strength. You kindly inquire about my plans

and prospects. These are so far favorable that they will give me (D. V.)

another year of nearly undivided attention to the “Flora.” Not long

since I was officially informed that the opening of our university would

be postponed another year, on account of unfavorable times, and the

preparations not being sufficiently advanced. So I am told that I can

have my time nearly all to myself until next spring (1841) if I wish

(which of course I do), but without any salary, which, indeed, I could

not with any propriety take while I perform no duty. By very close

economy I think I shall get on for the year to come, and be able to

accomplish a good deal of botanical work. I am going to pay the Michigan

people a visit, and if they make good their promises made to me a year

ago, as I have reason to think they will, their course towards me will

have been liberal and honorable. I have good reason to hope they will

eventually succeed in their plans.

By the London packet of the 15th of June we hope to send you and other

friends some copies of the “Flora,” parts 3 and 4. There are so many

errors, so much bad printing, and so many things that we could now do

much better, that I regret that any portion was published before my

visit to Europe. Many of the most important corrections are given with

additions, etc., in a supplement, but I hope we shall continue to

improve as we go on. We can work to much greater advantage than before,

from being much better supplied with books, as well as with specimens

and information. Yet often do I wish to be within reach of your

herbarium and library. Long accustomed to these advantages, you can

scarcely appreciate the difficulties we often find. I was to-day wishing

for a look at your Cucurbitaceæ; we have, as you know, but few of the

order.

I shall not be able to visit Florida or any part of the Southern States

this summer; indeed, I fear I shall be debarred from any botanical

journeys for some years. I must direct all my time and strength to our

“Flora.” I hope we may complete another volume by the spring of next

year. The way seems to be opening for increased facilities in sending a

botanical collector to the Rocky Mountains. Our government is about to

establish a line of military outposts quite up to the source of the

Platte, in the principal pass of the mountains; and in a few years I

doubt not we shall have small colonies in Oregon; but I know not when we

shall be able to send a collector. I would like vastly to go after

Grayia myself, but that cannot be at present. Nuttall has been giving a

course of botanical lectures in Boston; and still remains there, I

believe. My attempts to find Wilson’s poem have not yet been successful.

I shall esteem it a piece of good fortune if I succeed. I have engaged a

friend of mine, a bookseller, also to search for it; and when I visit

Philadelphia I shall inquire of some old people who knew Wilson. May God

bless you, my dear friend; kindest, regards and affectionate sympathies

to Lady Hooker.

Faithfully your attached,

A. GRAY.

TO ALPHONSE DE CANDOLLE.

NEW YORK, September 15, 1840.

MY DEAR FRIEND.... I had not forgotten our conversation on the subject

of geographical botany. On my return I found I had a copy, a mere proof,

of the little article I spoke of, and was about to offer it to you, but

on examination it appeared to me much less important than I had supposed

and perhaps led you to expect. But as it may be of some little use, I

now beg you to accept it. I have added, here and there, the scientific

names when the popular names only were mentioned.

The question you suggest as to the effect of the destruction of the

forests on the climate is very interesting, and I think still

unanswered. I fear it will be next to impossible to obtain data, even in

this country, for its satisfactory determination. There are very few

thermometrical observations on record of sufficient extent or exactness,

except for the last eight or ten years. For a year or two I shall not be

able to pay any attention to these subjects except to collect materials.

But I am very desirous to afford you any aid in my power, and will

attend to any suggestions you make, obtain any data which come in my

way, or secure the services of our botanical correspondents scattered

throughout our extended country. Pray tell me how I can aid you. The

annual reports of the regents of the University of the State of New York

are documents submitted annually to our legislature, and printed at

their expense for public use. They relate chiefly to the condition of

our colleges and higher schools, but for six or perhaps nine years past

have also embodied the results of the meteorological observations made

throughout the State under their instructions. The “Reports” are not on

sale, and the earlier numbers are not to be obtained except by some

lucky chance....

The 3d and 4th parts of our “Flora,” of which you speak so favorably,

were sent to you through Baron Delessert, as I have already apprised

you. By the time this work is completed we shall have settled somewhat

accurately the geographical range of our plants, and have laid a good

foundation for the comparison of our flora with that of other regions,

etc. We shall soon begin to print the “Compositæ,” and I trust in early

spring we may see the second volume nearly or quite completed. Pray send

me sometimes loose sheets of your articles or notices (those of your

father and yourself) in the “Bibliothèque Universelle.” I will sometimes

translate them, if you do not object, or otherwise notice them, for the

“American Journal of Science and Arts.”

TO W. J. HOOKER.

NEW YORK, 15th January, 1841.

The dedication of the “Flora” we felt to be both a privilege and a duty;

its favorable reception on your part gives us real pleasure.

I hope I have not offended Link by overstating his age. I am pretty sure

I was so informed by Klotzsch who ought to know. You will now and then

see some little articles or notices of mine in “Silliman’s Journal.” I

prepare these notices merely to awaken and deepen the interest of our

scattered botanists and lovers of plants, most of whom see that journal,

and few of whom have any other means of knowing what is going on in the

botanical world. We have, however, a few promising fellows who take the

“Journal of Botany” or something of the kind. Should I have anything to

communicate of interest to any other than our local botanists, I shall

publish of course under my own name. You will receive with this a little

notice of some European herbaria, which, commonplace as it must be on

your side of the water, is useful to our own people. I have been as

brief as I could, and have taken the pains to drop the first person

singular. I am not sure but I have already sent you a copy through Mr.

Pamphlin. Poor Rafinesque,[123] you know, perhaps, is dead; and I have

attempted the somewhat ungracious task of giving some account of his

botanical writings, which I will send you when printed.

I find that Townsend, Nuttall’s companion, published, while I was

abroad, an account of their journey. I have never seen a copy, and am

told it is out of print; but I must try to find a copy for you. Townsend

being poor, Nuttall waived his intention of publishing in his favor. I

have heard that Townsend wishes to make a journey as collector of birds,

plants, etc. I wish he would go to the southern Rocky Mountains, and

trace them into New Spain. Nuttall has brought home the Grayia. Have you

ever received any more of Nuttall’s plants, or has Boott? He is selling

them to different persons for ten dollars per hundred; just such

specimens as you received through Boott, or sometimes much better and

more copious ones. I have some of his Compositæ in my hands, which Webb

has ordered. He has a considerable number of Oregon and Californian

Compositæ which Douglas did not get (and he failed to meet with many of

Douglas’s), and others in the States; as Pyrrocoma with rays. Nuttall

ought to send all these to you.... I know with considerable accuracy

what plants (Compositæ) are desiderata with you; and I will take the

liberty of writing at once to Nuttall, and asking for such in your name.

I shall ask for about one hundred Compositæ, and will extend the order

to other plants if you desire it. He has, however, distributed nothing

beyond Compositæ. Pray let me know at once if I have done rightly in

this....

Among Drummond’s Louisiana plants is the rarest of all United States

Compositæ, Stokesia cyanea. It was pointed out to me by Arnott (January,

1839), but I have just examined Greene’s specimens.

A. G.

NEW YORK, 20th May, 1841.

I have diligently labored about four months at Aster, in which, as I

have after all not satisfied myself, I can scarcely hope to satisfy

others; but I do think I have laid a foundation for the student of the

species in their wild state. We had very copious materials, but could

have done little in comparison without the aid of your collection, for

which we cannot be too grateful. I am now occupied with Solidago, which

is difficult enough, no doubt but not to be compared with Aster in this

respect, partly because there are fewer species, and the synonymy much

less involved, but chiefly because there are few in cultivation.

We rejoice to hear that Joseph and the Antarctic Expedition are getting

on so well....

No further tidings of the steamship President! We have not until now

surrendered all hope. One of the passengers, a stranger to me, but an

acquaintance of a friend of mine, had charge of a small parcel for you,

consisting chiefly of proof sheets.

October 15, 1841.

I will send by the next London packet (Quebec) and write more at

leisure. I have to-day sent on board that ship a box for Pamphlin,

containing a parcel of plants for you (all of any consequence of my

small Carolina collection with some others). Few as they are, I trust it

will give me a pleasure I seldom can enjoy--that of adding something to

your herbarium. Mr. Brydges takes also for you the proofs of a gossiping

article on the botany of the southern Alleghanies, etc., which I have

taken the liberty to address to you, and hope it will meet your

approval. I shall send you clean copies, as soon as they are printed.

The article will not appear here until the 1st of January. I send you

also some ripe seeds of Diphylleia for your garden. I have live roots in

the care of a cultivator. If they live shall send you one in the

spring....

I must not forget to mention that my package also comprises a set of

Ohio Mosses from my friend Sullivant, of whom I have often spoken, and

of whom as a botanist we have high hopes, as he has an independence (for

this country), talent, and much zeal. If not too much trouble, I join

with him in requesting you to name them according to the numbers, by

which you will do him great service, as he designs to study and collect

American Musci especially.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

NEW YORK, November 30, 1841.

DEAR DOCTOR,--Don’t hesitate about sending me anything for fear I may

already have it. Very many plants pass through my hands while I am

describing, but my own herbarium is not very rich; and duplicates will

not oppress me. Mr. Carey does not keep European plants except those

identical, or supposed identical, with North American species. Browne,

however, does, and I dare say would be glad to have any you can give

him. They are the gentlemen mentioned in the “Flora.” ...

Eupatorium Engelmannianum, sp. nov. Am. Bor., semina misit Engelmann.

Can this be it, think you? If so pray help me to it; and to anything

else you can, as I mean to give addenda et corrigenda to the Compositæ

at the end of the order, if I ever get through this formidable job. No

wonder seven years’ labor at them ruined De Candolle’s health. You know

he is dead? He died the 9th or 10th of September last....

I send you my article in the January number of “Silliman’s Journal” with

a little one by Sullivant,--by mail. I am extremely busy this winter,

but I hope always to answer your letters promptly, and to attend to your

desires as well as I can, whence I beg you to continue your useful

correspondence.

March 30, 1842.

It is not a great while since I got all the copy ready for the number of

the “Flora” now printing,--during which I could do little else.

Immediately this was done I completed an arrangement with my publishers

for preparing a handsomely got up Introduction or Text-Book of Botany,

for schools, lectures, private students (medical, etc.), which must be

out on the 1st of May next. Owing to illness I have as yet written

almost nothing, and besides have to superintend all the drawings, as

they must be made by a person unacquainted with botany; and at the same

time I have to correct the proofs of about thirteen sheets yet of the

“Flora,” so that I am almost distracted when I think how I am to

accomplish it here, where I have to see personally to almost every

detail. But I must do it, as I hope to lay the foundation for a popular

and--what is of consequence to me--a profitable work.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

NEW YORK, 30th March, 1842.

The last steamship left Boston so soon after I received your kind letter

that I was unable to answer it by that conveyance. I intended to send

this by the Columbia steamer of the 2d prox.; but I learn that having

broken her shaft in the outward voyage she is to sail back to England;

when it comes to canvas I have more confidence in our old liners, and

therefore send by New York packet.

Have you not seen or heard of Nuttall yet? He sailed for England on

Christmas last, to take possession of property left him by some deceased

relatives.

I should not feel a residence in Michigan as a banishment. I am fond of

a country life. But at present I see almost no hopes of usefulness

there. Like all our new, and some of our old States, they have

squandered the means they once possessed and encumbered themselves

almost irretrievably with debt. On my return from Europe in the autumn

of 1839, I received a letter stating that they had nothing yet for me

to do, and permitting me to spend the winter in New York. In the spring

of 1840, a committee of the regents wrote to me, to relinquish the

provisional salary (of fifteen hundred dollars, on which I had been

placed) for one year from that date, they relinquishing my services for

that period and allowing me to devote my time to the “Flora,” etc. I at

once accepted their proposal; but although another year has now elapsed

since the expiration of the period to which they proposed to limit this

agreement, not a word have I heard officially or unofficially from

Michigan. I have quietly awaited the result, ready at any moment to obey

their call; but having no income for the last two years, I have been

greatly embarrassed, and have struggled through great difficulties, I

scarcely know how. Notwithstanding, I have thought until recently that I

ought not to seek any other situation. I shall now write to Michigan

immediately, inquiring whether, in their present condition, they are

ready to fulfill their engagements with me, or whether they would prefer

to accept my resignation, which I shall offer. I expect, and on the

whole hope, they will accept it.

In December, or nearly the 1st of January last, a friend of mine here,

who had some casual conversation with the President of Harvard

University, wished me to let my name be known as a candidate for the

vacant chair of natural history there. After reflecting for a week or

two, I wrote to B. D. Greene[124] for some information on the subject,

saying that, if freed from other engagements, I would like the botanical

part of the professorship, but not the zoölogy: and that the former,

with the charge and the renovation of the Botanic Garden, would be quite

enough for one.

In January I made a flying visit to Boston, where I had never been, and

knew no one personally but Greene, to whom, and to Professor

Bigelow,[125] I expressed my views; but we none of us expected that

anything would be done at present. I incidentally learned, however, not

long since, that the men of science would generally be well pleased to

have me at Boston, and that some with whom I had almost no acquaintance

were using their influence to that end. I was never more surprised,

however, than this very evening, when I received from President Quincy

an official letter, offering me the professorship provisionally, with a

small salary, to be sure, for the present, but with only the duties of

the botanical portion.

The president states that the endowment is $30,000, yielding an income

of $1,500, which, however, not being adequate to constitute a full

professor’s salary on a permanent foundation, the corporation deem it

both their duty and the interest of the professorship to continue for a

few years, in a modified form, the policy they have hitherto pursued,

and by applying one third of the income annually to the augmentation of

the capital, enable themselves to place the professor of natural

history, at no distant period, on an equal footing with the other

professors of the university. “To this end they propose to limit your

duties, in case you are willing to accept the professorship, to

instruction and lecturing in botany, and to the superintendence

generally of the Botanic Garden (which they wish to renovate); limiting

for the present your annual salary to one thousand dollars;” thus

enabling me, as the communication proceeds to say, to devote all my time

at present to my favorite pursuit, and to go on with the labors I have

in hand. I have reason to hope, also, that by the time they are ready to

give me the full salary, the zoölogical part will be separated from the

professorship, with a distinct endowment. The Botanic Garden has an

endowment of $20,000. If I should take this place, I should hope to see

it better endowed before long, and should immediately set about the

introduction of all the hardy trees and shrubs,--and indeed to enrich it

as fast as possible with all the American and other plants that could be

procured. In that case, separated from yourself by only fourteen to

eighteen days’ navigation, I could hope to be a useful correspondent to

you at Kew, and to show my gratitude for your continued kindness to me.

I must here conclude, by stating that the president’s letter to me is to

be deemed confidential, in case I do not accept the offer. I must

therefore beg you to consider this letter likewise confidential, until

you hear further from me, which you may expect to do as soon as anything

is settled in regard to this matter. I am the less reluctant to leave

New York since our good friend Dr. Torrey is at Princeton, New Jersey

(only four hours from New York), renting his house in town, where for

the present he will only remain during the winter. We have worked so

long together that I shall feel the separation greatly.

NEW YORK, 30th May, 1842.

I have the pleasure to inform you that having accepted the offer from

Harvard University of which I apprised you in my letter of April 1, I

was appointed to the professorship on the 30th of April last. The

incessant occupation of this month has prevented me from writing to you

sooner, and still prevents me sending anything beyond this hasty note. I

hope in a week or so to have my new text-book finished, when I shall

visit Cambridge to make the necessary arrangements for my removal

thither. I hope hereafter to be a useful correspondent to you, in the

way of supplying you with seeds and living plants of our own country,

and when I see what can be done with our Garden I shall probably ask you

to aid us. I wish to visit the mountains of Carolina again, in autumn,

to procure roots and seeds....

* * * * *

In the spring of 1842, as his last letter intimated, Dr. Gray was

appointed to the Fisher professorship of natural history in Harvard

College. He was then thirty-one years old. He removed to Cambridge in

July, taking lodgings near the colleges at Deacon Munroe’s, on what is

now James Street.

Before Dr. Gray came to Cambridge he had been elected into the American

Academy (November 10, 1841). He threw himself with the greatest interest

into its work. Scarcely any winter storm kept him from its meetings; all

other engagements had to give way. And when new life began in its

publications, many of his most important papers appeared in its volumes.

He was also influential in establishing a scientific club consisting of

members of the college faculty and

[Illustration: Portrait with A Gray (handwritten)]

other friends in Cambridge. Of this, too, he was a most faithful member.

The club met twice a month at the houses of the different members in

turn, and the one at whose house it met was expected to bring forward

some subject, generally from his specialty, which later was discussed

and criticised. Many of the new interests in science were here first

presented by Dr. Gray.

Among the founders and early members were, Charles Beck, Francis Bowen,

Admiral Davis, Epes S. Dixwell, Edward Everett, President Felton, Asa

Gray, Simon Greenleaf, Thaddeus Mason Harris, Joseph Lovering, Benjamin

Peirce, Josiah Quincy, Jared Sparks, Daniel Treadwell, James Walker,

Joseph E. Worcester, the lexicographer, and Morrill Wyman, M. D. Later,

among those no longer living, were added at different times Louis

Agassiz, Thomas Hill, Joel Parker, Emory Washburn, and Joseph Winlock.

The club is still in existence.

TO JOHN TORREY.

BOSTON, Monday, 25th July, 1842.

MY DEAR DOCTOR,--Having time before the mail closes to write a harried

letter, I hasten to let you know that I have this morning secured

lodgings at Cambridge, at a retired house, off the main road, about

halfway between the colleges and the Garden. For $3.00 per week, I have

two rooms, one pretty large, one moderate (of which I shall make a

bedroom), a small nearly dark bedroom which I shall shelve and use for

my herbarium, and three closets, furnished decently (but not

extravagantly!!), in a house where there can at most be only one other

lodger, and he must ascend by a different staircase from mine,--the

rooms and bed linen, etc., to be kept in order.

I am to board at an adjacent house, to which I have access by a private

gate through the garden. The latter house belongs to Mrs. Peck (widow of

my predecessor), who boards there, and who I see has bestirred herself

to contrive and effect this arrangement. I am to take possession next

Monday. Meanwhile I am Mr. Greene’s guest here, where I have the house

for the most part to myself. I arrived here Friday morning, just in time

to miss the president, who had just started for Portland, and has not

yet returned. I have seen Bigelow, Emerson,[126] etc., and have been

looking about among the libraries here, and endeavoring to arrange

matters so as to procure just, and only such, books for the college as

are wanting. I am pleased to find a complete copy of “Linnæa” at the

library of the American Academy.

I passed last Sunday all alone in Greene’s house. Mr. Emerson met me

coming from Park Street Church, and on telling him that I was of

Orthodox faith, he said he was very glad of it, although not altogether

of that way himself.

I have been only twice to Cambridge, whence I have just returned, and

where you may address your letters. But I can do little there until the

president returns, by which time, however, I must trust to have my list

of books ready. I have just written to Mr. Wiley to send on my boxes,

and hope next week to get nearly in working order. I now think of

remaining here (studying Compositæ, etc.) through the month of August,

and then visiting Mt. Washington, if I can get money and a companion (I

shall ask Oakes), and in September going (via New York?) to western New

York, where I wish to collect roots and seeds as extensively as may be.

I will soon make out a list of some things I would like Knieskern to get

for me in the pine barrens.

Tell E., also, that I must write her about a learned lady in these

parts, who assists her husband in his school, and who hears the boys’

recitations in Greek and geometry at the ironing-board, while she is

smoothing their shirts and jackets! reads German authors while she is

stirring her pudding, and has a Hebrew book before her, when knitting [?

netting--A. G.]. There’s nothing like down East for learned women. Why,

even the factory-girls at Lowell edit entirely a magazine, which an

excellent judge told me has many better-written articles than the “North

American Review.” Some of them, having fitted their brothers for college

at home, come to Lowell to earn money enough to send them through!!

Vivent les femmes. There will be no use for men in this region,

presently. Even my own occupation may soon be gone; for I am told that

Mrs. Ripley (the learned lady aforesaid) is the best botanist of the

country round. But the mail is about to close; this nasty steel pen

refuses to write; dinner is ready, and so with love to all, I subscribe

myself,

Yours most affectionately,

A. GRAY.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

CAMBRIDGE, 30th July, 1842.

MY DEAR SIR WILLIAM,--It is indeed a long time since I have heard from

you; although, indeed, I can well suppose that, in your new

situation,[127] you are too much occupied to write frequently to your

friends on this side of the ocean. Having finished my little “Botanical

Text-Book” (a copy of which is sent you through the publishers, Wiley &

Putnam, who have an office in Stationer’s Court, Paternoster Row), and

packed up my things at New York, I have just taken possession of my

situation at Cambridge. The Botanic Garden, which has a good location,

contains over seven acres of land, and the trees have well grown up. It

already contains some good American plants, and I shall immediately

commence a plan of operations with the view of accumulating here, as

fast as possible, the phænogamous plants, etc., of the United States and

Canada; and hope to supply you with such of our indigenous species as

you may desire. I wish I could know what plants are likely to be

acceptable to you, that I may not send you what you already have. I must

postpone to next year my contemplated visit to the mountains of

Carolina, where I can make a fine collection of interesting plants for

cultivation. Perhaps I can also visit Labrador next year. This autumn I

must confine myself to an excursion to the White Mountains, to the

western part of New York, and to the pine barrens of New Jersey. I shall

most gladly share the seeds and roots I collect with you. My good friend

Mr. Sullivant, also promises me the living Sullivantia and many other

interesting plants.

Let me also say, my dear sir, that any duplicates you can spare us from

your noble institution will be truly acceptable and in the highest

degree useful to us, as we have very few exotics and hot-house plants.

We have a good gardener, and I think I can promise you that whatever you

choose to give us shall be sedulously taken care of.

Dr. Torrey is now at Princeton. I had the pleasure of spending a week

with him not long since, and hope to visit him again early in the

autumn. I shall miss him very much. I am here more favorably situated

with respect to books than at New York. I hope next week to begin again

with the “Flora,” and perhaps to finish the Monopetalæ.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

CAMBRIDGE, 26th July, 1842.

MY DEAR DOCTOR,--I hope to get settled here, and in working order in a

week or so; to work at Compositæ, all next month, and to occupy a part

of September and October in collecting the roots and seeds of plants, of

the White Mountains, of western New York, etc., for our Botanic Garden

here; which I wish to renovate, to make creditable to the country and

subservient to the advancement of our favorite science. I wish to see

growing here all the hardy and half-hardy plants of the United States

(as well as many exotics, etc.), and shall exert myself strenuously for

their introduction. The Garden contains seven acres; the trees and

shrubs are well grown up; we are free from debt, and have a small fund.

The people and the corporation are anxious that we should do something,

and I trust will second our efforts.

Allow me therefore to say that yourself and your friend Lindheimer[128]

in Texas would render me, and also the cause of botany in this country,

the greatest aid (which I will take every opportunity of publicly

acknowledging), if you will send me roots or seeds of any Western

plants, especially the rarer, and those not yet figured or cultivated

abroad. But nothing peculiar to the West and South will come amiss. I am

calling on all my correspondents to assist me in this matter; which, by

giving me the opportunity of examining so many living plants, will

vastly increase the correctness of our “Flora.” I shall not be idle

myself. I will defray all expenses of collection and transportation

(boxes may be sent via New Orleans, directly to me at Boston). If you

wish to cultivate anything that I have or can procure, it shall be

forthcoming. Pray let me hear from you on this subject.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, 15th September, 1842.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--Your letter of the 6th inst. awaited my return from the

White Mountains last evening, and I must drop you a hasty reply by this

day’s mail. I started for the mountains almost at a moment’s warning.

Emerson, who was to accompany me, being called down to Maine, wrote me

unexpectedly to meet him on Monday or Tuesday of last week at the Notch.

I had just time to look up Tuckerman,[129] the very morning of his

arrival! and to get his consent to meet me on Monday morning at the cars

for Dover. Monday evening we reached Conway, New Hampshire, thirty miles

from the White Mountains (full in sight); and Tuesday, in a one-horse

wagon, we reached and botanized up the Notch to Crawford’s at its head.

Emerson had been there, and returned to his father’s in Maine, having

learned his brother’s arrival from France in the ship that brought

Tuckerman. We made two ascents to the higher mountains; slept out one

night; cold weather; a good deal of rain, but had some very fine weather

for views. We saw the ocean distinctly, which is only possible under

favorable circumstances. I made a fine collection of living plants,

which was the chief object. Although too late for botanizing, yet I got

many good alpines in fruit, some few in flower. When I see you, which I

trust will be soon, I will tell you particulars, and bring specimens of

the few plants collected that will be needed in your herbarium.

I have seen the president this morning, and find that Mr. Lowell has

returned, but all are so busy that I doubt if they will settle anything

about our affairs until the last of next week. Consequently I shall be

kept here all next week. I shall immediately, at Mr. Quincy’s desire, or

rather approval of my intimation, draw up a plan of my wishes for the

management of the Garden, and shall ask for a specific appropriation, of

small amount, for obtaining live plants, paying bills of transportation,

etc. If I succeed, I may then be able to engage Knieskern to procure

some New Jersey plants, as well as go to western New York myself; but I

fear this delay, with the advancing season, will perhaps prevent the

latter.

Saturday afternoon, 5th December, 1842.

The parcel of Compositæ, etc., of the Far West has only just come in. I

have looked over the Compositæ with some excitement. Some few new and

the old help out Nuttall’s scraps, etc., very well. Tetradymias this

side of the Rocky Mountains!! Some new Senecios, especially, from the

mountains, near the snow line. How I would like to botanize up

there!...

I wish we had a collector to go with Frémont. It is a great chance. If

none are to be had, Lieutenant F. must be indoctrinated, and taught to

collect both dried specimens and seeds. Tell him he shall be

immortalized by having the 999th Senecio called S. Fremontii; that’s

_poz._, for he has at least two new ones....

I have the privilege of expending one hundred dollars in botanical

illustrations,--to be the property of the college and to be increased

from time to time. How do you advise me to proceed in the matter?

Though greatly behindhand, I must get Compositæ all done this month.

Then if you could have the Lobelias and Campanulas ready, I think we

could print the latter part of January, and I get everything off my mind

and ready for teaching 1st of March....

This letter you see has no beginning, as I have scribbled down memoranda

for a day or two past, as they occurred to me. I am deep among Thistles,

which are thorny (though I see that they are satisfactionable, all but

one little group of two or three species), and have been considerably

interrupted, or I should have written you sooner.

TO MRS. TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, Wednesday evening, December 14, 1842.

It is some time since I have written to Princeton, and longer since I

have heard from any of you; for I believe you are every one in my debt.

This, however, has not restrained me from writing, and I have only

waited until a proposition very unexpectedly made me a few days ago

should be disposed of. I have been invited to lecture before the Lowell

Institute next year, and have had the hardihood to accept! A celebrated

lawyer here says that he never hesitates to take any case that offers,

to be argued six months hence! I have taken this in much the same way.

But when the time draws near I dare say I shall call myself a very great

fool. But it is now neck or nothing. The money will be really very

useful to me; to decline the offer, coming from one of the most

influential of the corporation of the college, would have had an

unfavorable effect on my prospects, which moderate success will greatly

advance. The pay is $1,000 for twelve lectures, or $1,200 if they are

repeated in the afternoons. Instead of the latter, I have proposed to

give a collateral, more scientific course of about twenty lectures, with

a small ticket-fee to render the audience more select, and for which I

should get about $500, making $1,500 in all. The Institute will pay for

full illustrations. Mr. Lowell offered at once to engage me for two or

three years; but I told him he had best wait to see how I succeeded. Mr.

Lowell told me that he was in treaty with two of the most distinguished

orthodox divines in this country for courses on Natural Theology and the

Evidences of Christianity; the one to commence next year, the other the

year after. I do not doubt one is President Wayland. Who can the other

be? Tell Dr. Torrey he hopes to get Faraday next year; and Mr. Owen the

year after.

I should not wonder if my appointment were in some degree owing to a

little piece of generosity in a small way that I played off not long

since. The president has once or twice asked me to hear the Freshmen

next term in a course of recitations from a text-book on general natural

history as a matter of favor, as he did not wish Mr. Harris or any one

else to perform this duty; and offering me, of course, additional

compensation, I suppose $200 or so. I found, however, that this pay

would come from the funds of the Garden, let who would perform the duty.

So to prevent that, I offered to perform the duty, but to receive no pay

for it. At the same time, however, I got the corporation to appropriate

$100 for illustrative botanical drawings, which otherwise would have

come out of my own pocket. So you see I have work enough ahead, if I

live, to give me both occupation and anxiety. I have been driving away

at the “Flora,” of late, very hard, hoping to come to New York to print

next month; when all this matter must be laid aside, and I must prepare

for my lectures, etc., for next term, which commences about the first of

March.

I am very tired, having been in Boston all day,--at tea at Mr. Albro’s,

our good pastor, where I met Mr. Dana, father of “Two Years before the

Mast” Dana, and passed the rest of the evening at Professor

Peirce’s.[130] To-morrow I hope to have for study; but the next day I

shall be obliged to go again to Boston, and perhaps stay till evening

for a soirée at Mr. Ticknor’s.

The Latimer case has greatly increased the abolition feeling in this

State, besides showing that the recent decision of the Supreme Court

will in fact operate in favor of the runaway slave. It is not probable

that another slave will ever be again captured in Massachusetts. There

is a petition to Congress in circulation, designed simply to express the

feelings of Massachusetts, which will probably be signed by almost every

person in the State.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, January 3, 1843.

Your letter, truly welcome after so long an interval, reached me

yesterday. I should have been very glad to be with you during the

holidays, but cannot think of leaving before I finish these interminable

Compositæ. I hoped to have accomplished this on Saturday last; all but

taking up some dropped stitches; but was a good deal interrupted last

week. The December number of “Annals and Magazine of Natural History”

(of which Professor Balfour is the botanical editor) contains a very

complimentary notice of the “Botanical Text-Book,” accompanied with a

few judicious selections, which shows that the writer has looked it over

carefully; and winds up by terming it the best elementary treatise (as

to structural botany) in the English language. So easy is it to get

praise where it is not particularly deserved!...

My great object for next year is to attempt to raise $10,000 from some

of our rich men, to rebuild our greenhouse on a larger and handsome

scale. There are a few men, who have never given anything to the

college, who may perhaps be induced to give for this object.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

CAMBRIDGE, MASS., February 13, 1843.

I note with interest what you propose in regard to Lindheimer’s

collections for sale in Centuriæ, fall into your plans, and will

advertise in “Silliman’s Journal” (and in “London Journal of Botany”)

when all is arranged. Pray let him get roots and seeds for me. I will do

all I can for him. But if the Oregon bill passes, a party under

Lieutenant Frémont, or some one else, will go through the Rocky

Mountains to Oregon; and parties of emigrants or explorers will go also.

Now why not send Lindheimer in some of these? Probably the government

party would afford him protection, and probably he might be formally

attached to the party. Frémont will not take Geyer;[131] but I believe

he wants some one. The interesting region (the most so in the world) is

the high Rocky Mountains about the sources of the Platte, and thence

south. I will warrant ten dollars per hundred for every decent specimen.

If he collects in Texas, eight dollars per hundred is enough. I write in

haste, hoping this plan may strike you favorably and be found

practicable. Let me know at once. The opportunity should not be lost. Do

send Lindheimer to the Rocky Mountains if possible.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

CAMBRIDGE, February 28, 1843.

I found your most welcome letter on my return from New York a few weeks

since, and have since sent it to Dr. Torrey, who was equally delighted

with myself at the opportunity of hearing from you.

Our term opens to-day, and I am just on the point of commencing my

course of botanical lectures, which is rather formidable to a beginner.

So you will excuse my hasty letter. I would not miss to-morrow’s

steamer, as I wish to say that your offer to furnish our Garden--the

great object of my care--with hardy plants from your rich stores at Kew

delights me much. I have only to say that everything you can send will

be truly welcome. Our stock of European hardy plants (whether herbs or

shrubs) is small, and consists of the commonest and oldest-fashioned

things in cultivation. These, and every Californian, Oregon, and Texan

plant of which you have duplicates to spare us (or seeds), whether hardy

or not,--these are the plants I am just now most desirous to accumulate.

Greenhouse plants are scarcely less welcome, but of those I will write

more particularly hereafter. Can you send us a young Araucaria imbricata

and Stuartia pentagyna?

My plans for accumulating American plants were put in operation too late

last autumn to give us much as yet, but my correspondents throughout the

country seem interested in the matter; some will reach me this spring,

and still more, I trust, in the autumn. With regard to all these, as

soon as I see them growing, so that I can send them with authentic

names, I shall most gladly share with you.... I shall continue to direct

all my energies to the advancement of our amiable science in this

country, not, I trust, in vain. I have a plan to publish, from time to

time, figures of rare or interesting North American plants, chiefly

those cultivated in our Garden and those upon which I may throw some

light. I think there are persons enough here interested in the matter,

including gentlemen of public spirit here, who would encourage it for

the Garden’s sake, to nearly defray the expense, which is all I desire

or expect....

What a charming place you must be making of Kew! What a field for the

botanist!

TO MRS. TORREY.

Thursday evening, 2d March, 1843.

You will be anxious to hear how my first lecture succeeded, knowing it

was to have been given to-day.[132] But you must wait a week longer.

Since my last letter was dispatched the president, finding the class

would hardly be ready, desired me merely to meet them to-day for the

purpose of pointing out the subject in the “Text-Book,” arranging

general plan and all that, postponing my lecture to Thursday of next

week. This I was most ready to do, as it gave me the opportunity of

entering by degrees upon my task, feeling my way instead of making a

plunge in regular desperation. The great thing is self-possession. The

moment I get that I shall feel tolerably safe. So I met my class to-day,

arranged matters, and made a few remarks without stammering a bit, so

far as I recollect, or speaking much too fast. My class consists of

about two dozen students (undergraduates), mostly Seniors, besides which

any law or divinity students and resident graduates who choose can

attend, and several probably will. For my recitations in natural history

generally, I have divided the Freshmen into four sections, about sixteen

in each, two of which I meet on Fridays, and two on Tuesdays; have given

them their lessons, and to-morrow, consequently, I commence these

recitations. I must not forget to tell you that since my return the

Sunday-school class left by one of our people who has removed to Boston

has been given me, a class of eight or nine very intelligent misses,

varying from sixteen years old to twelve, all of one family, though

originally of three, some being sister’s children (orphans, etc.). I am

greatly pleased with them, delighted with their docility and

intelligence, and anticipate a very happy time. So you see I have three

sets of scholars, on different subjects. I ought to be “apt to teach.”

Saturday morning.--I must dispatch my letter by to-day’s mail, and as I

am going to Boston, where I have not been for a week, I will drop it in

the post office there, to insure its transmission by this afternoon’s

mail. Yesterday afternoon I met the first two sections of my class of

Freshmen for recitation. It went off very well. I am pretty good at

asking questions. The lads were well prepared. Next Tuesday I meet the

third and fourth sections; and on Thursday, the ides of March, I give my

first lecture on Botany. If I succeed well, I am sure no one will be

more pleased and gratified than yourself, and that of itself is enough

to incite me to effort. If I don’t altogether succeed, neither

satisfying myself nor others, I shall not be discouraged, but try again,

as I am determined to succeed in the long run. Nil desperandum. I shall

have the president to hear me; but he is said always to fall asleep on

such occasions, and to be very commendatory when he awakes.

I now board with the sister of my landlord, Deacon Munroe, a table of

only five, one professor, one tutor, and two advanced law students. We

yesterday commenced the experiment of dining at five o’clock, much to my

gratification, and if the other gentlemen like it as well as I do, we

shall continue to dine at that hour, until summer at least. It is very

cold here; though the sun shines brightly all day, it scarcely thaws at

midday.

CAMBRIDGE, March 18, 1843.

Your most welcome and long-expected letter of the 14th reached me only

this noon. This first day of leisure of this week has been a very busy

one. I have been to town, and just got back. I have had to work very

hard this week. I have got my course of recitations for the Freshmen on

Smellie well in progress, and am quite interested in it, though at first

I thought it would have been a great bore. The class are generally very

much interested, and give promise that I shall reap the fruits of my

labor when they become Sophomores or Seniors and attend the botanical

lectures, for which I think I am laying a foundation. I am now perfectly

at ease in my mode of teaching them; I am pretty good at questioning,

and I give them plenty of illustration, explanation, and ideas not in

the book, which pleases and interests them. In one of the divisions last

week, while giving them a sort of lecture, two hours long! (to which

they listened well; for I gave them, or those who chose, the opportunity

of going at the expiration of the regular hour, but not one of them

budged), turning my head at a fortunate moment, I caught one of the

fellows (rather a stupid fellow, a boarder with me last term) throwing

his cap to his companion or playing some trick. You know I can scold. So

I gave him about half a dozen words that made him open his eyes wide;

and I do not think that he, nor any of that division, will venture upon

anything of the kind again very soon.

As to the botanical class, which now numbers thirty-seven, I have given

two more lectures, for I lectured both Thursday and Friday, on the last

occasion, which was a sort of recapitulation quite without notes, as a

trial. I am convinced that for lectures with much illustration I must

have only heads and leading ideas written; for others, I will write

nearly in full. I saw Miss Lowell ... the day before my first lecture,

and promised to call upon her very soon if I succeeded well. Meeting her

the other evening at Professor Sparks’s, she reproved me for not keeping

my word. I very honestly and sincerely replied that I had not succeeded

well, and was waiting until I was better satisfied. Quite to my

surprise, I found that the class, at least those she had seen, her

great-nephew and others, were well pleased with it. I will not repeat

their expressions, as retailed to me by Miss Lowell, because I cannot

but suspect that young Lowell may have been trying to humbug her. I feel

I have so far acquitted myself very poorly as a lecturer; but I am

sustained by the firm conviction that I shall in the end do very well,

for a common college class.

TO JOHN TORREY.

May, 1843.

I have been speaking about the bones of the Zygodon, and there is a

disposition to get up a subscription in the Natural History Society and

buy them, if still for sale, the price not too great, and if Dr. Wyman,

on seeing them, recommends the purchase. Do you know the price? And

whether they can still be seen in New York, at Carey’s storehouse? The

Boston zoölogists are far from praising De Kay’s Report. I heard

Silliman on electro-magnetism the other evening (which hardly belongs to

chemistry): great show of experiments; lauded Henry finely. He is

finishing off with galvanic deflagration. Will Frémont go west this

year? So Mr. Carey is going to Buffalo. Occupation will be the best

thing for him; but we shall miss him in New York....

Monday afternoon, 9th May.

I have a few of Frémont’s plants up from seeds. The two pine-trees and

the Pyxidanthera were received in good condition, to my great

wonderment. Pyxidanthera is in full bloom, and a drawing of it nearly

finished (as well as of Oakesia, about which I have some new matters

that are curious) by the eldest Miss Quincy, whom I have pressed into

the service....

Rhododendron Lapponicum, from the White Mountains, is just bursting into

flower. I am building rock-work, but we get on slowly. All the work of

the Garden comes together this spring, and all in a heap.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

CAMBRIDGE, 30th May, 1843.

... The community here are very liberal and public-spirited. They have

just given by subscription $25,000 for a telescope, etc., for our

observatory. The college have given me the use of seven or eight acres

of land lying around the observatory, finely situated and diagonally

opposite the Botanic Garden, as an addition.[133]

As soon as our garden begins to increase and prosper, I hope in a year

from this we shall attempt (and doubtless succeed) in raising the funds

for a new conservatory, hot-house, etc.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

CAMBRIDGE, 22d June, 1843.

When you get sufficient collections from any of these botanists for

distribution, you will please forward me a set, with your own critical

remarks. Although I excessively dislike to study special collections far

ahead of my work, yet in these cases it will be important, and I will

consent to do it. If I thus join in the responsibility and labor, which

will be great to a person with his hands so full as mine, the articles

written on the subject and the new species must bear our joint names.

You cannot have failed to perceive that the genus Astragalus is not well

done in the “Flora.” ...

I agree with you generally in the impropriety of too much multiplying

names of species after the collectors, etc., yet I think these are good

names, easily remembered, and particularly advisable in very large

genera. My practical rule is to name such species after the discoverer,

etc., if I cannot find any really pertinent characteristic name

unoccupied....

There is much to be done, and so little time that I often wish I could

divide myself into a dozen men, and thus get on faster. Let us, however,

take particular pains to do everything thoroughly as far as we go.

TO MRS. TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, July 22, 1843.

I find Cambridge, in vacation, as quiet as possible,--most people away.

The president’s family were at home, and unaffectedly glad to see me;

but several of them, including Miss Susan, who makes drawings for me,

are about to set out on Monday for Lake Champlain, Montreal, and Quebec;

to be absent nearly to the time that I hope to leave here again; for I

find, from the way the president takes it up, that I shall have no

difficulty in obtaining the sanction of the corporation to my proposed

mountain tour. But of that I shall know certainly in a day or two. In

that case I shall hope to see you again in the latter part of August,

perhaps as soon as the middle....

Dr.---- came here the day I returned. He still garnishes, as ever, his

lack of ideas with a deliberate profundity of words.

I found on my return a letter from my brother, announcing the

approaching marriage of my youngest sister; which event took place, I

suppose, on the 20th inst., the day I left New York. Had I received the

letter in New York, I should have arranged to be present on the

occasion. I wonder if my turn will ever come!

TO W. J. HOOKER.

CAMBRIDGE, 11th August, 1843.

I leave home this afternoon for New York, on my way to the Alleghany

Mountains in the north of Virginia, where I expect to meet my excellent

friend Mr. Sullivant, of Ohio. We hope to trace the more westerly ranges

of the mountains down to North Carolina and Tennessee, to revisit my old

ground in Ashe County, etc., and to continue our journey farther south

into Georgia, coming out at Augusta on the Savannah River; thence I may

go to Charleston and return by water. But if time allows I shall perhaps

run through upper Georgia and Alabama, to the Tennessee River, down that

to the Ohio, and thence home. My chief object is to obtain live plants

and seeds; we shall be too late in the season for the best botanizing,

yet I think we shall be in the best time for Compositæ. Mr. Sullivant

will turn his attention primarily to the Musci; but we shall let nothing

escape. Thus at last I may hope to be somewhat useful to you as a

correspondent for your Garden.

I learn within a few days that Ross’s expedition has been heard of from

Rio. Doubtless Joseph will have reached home before this letter arrives,

and I may congratulate him--and yourself--upon his most gratifying

success, which has laid a broad and sure foundation for his scientific

eminence. His Flora Antarctica must be of the very highest interest and

importance.

TO JOHN TORREY.

ASHEVILLE, Saturday, September 30th, 1843.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--Your two letters which awaited my arrival--the one at

Jefferson, the other at Asheville--were indeed refreshing. Our long

journey through Virginia brought us behind our estimated time, and

hurried the later and more interesting part of our operations; for

Sullivant was getting very impatient, as I wrote in my last, just as we

were hurrying away from Jefferson.

I doubt if I got anything of much interest in Virginia, except Buckley’s

(and Nuttall’s) Andromeda, Rhamnus parvifolius on the waters of

Green-brier, (where did Pursh get it?), Heuchera pubescens in fruit and

Heuehera hispida Pursh!! out of flower and fruit, so that I detected it

by the leaves only (and got good roots), not far from where Pursh

discovered it, but more west, on the frontiers of a range of mountains

where this very local species doubtless abounds.

From Jefferson went to Grandfather; had a fine time and good weather;

explored the old fellow thoroughly, but found 140 new Phænogams.

Sullivant made a great haul of Mosses and Jungermanniæ. Found the Moodys

heartily glad to see us. The elder brother is married since our former

visit. Miss Nancy delighted with the calico dress I brought her, and

made me promise to ask some of my lady friends at home to cut out a

pattern for her in newspaper and send by mail,--to be in tiptop

style,--in the very height of the fashion! Poor Miss Nancy! How she

would look! The “old gentleman” (Mr. Carey) was most affectionately

inquired after. Indeed Miss Nancy is perfectly in love with him, and

sacredly keeps the sperm-candle-end he gave her as a relic. She gave me

a most amusing account of the wonderment which our visit caused. To it

she attributes the advantages they now enjoy both for religious and

secular instruction. For we found a young Episcopal clergyman, sent by

the bishop, resident in the neighborhood, where he has spent already

almost a year,--a perfect hermit, so far as civilized society goes. Yet

he is busily occupied, and nearly contented, has built a little cabin in

full view of the Gothic Grandfather, and I hope is doing much good. He

accompanied us to the mountain, but did not remain over night in our

encampment, having a distant service on Saturday. His name is Prout.

Mrs. Torrey will remember something about his history, which will in

part account for his willingness to spend a few years in this solitary

region. I had hoped to hear him preach on the Sunday we passed at the

Moodys’ on our return from the mountain; but he preached at a station

ten miles off.

A. GRAY.

* * * * *

In one of his later mountain journeys Dr. Gray passed again through Val

Crucis in June, 1879; and the following extract from Mrs. Gray’s journal

gives the sad fate of the little mission colony.

“In the afternoon we came upon Val Crucis.... It seems, years ago (in

1841) when Dr. Gray, Mr. John Carey, and others came exploring in the

mountains, Mr. Carey was laid up for a while in a farm-house, and

talking with the good people found them woefully ignorant, especially of

everything relating to Christianity. So when he went back to New York he

corresponded with the Southern bishop, who bestirred himself, and a

mission was sent into the mountains. They settled at Val Crucis, and so

named it. It was in the early days of Ritualism, and the young men

thought to found something like the early monastic settlements in

England, and as it seemed to the ignorant people, played strange pranks

and preached wonderful and incomprehensible doctrines which puzzled and

bewildered them; then Bishop Ives went over to the Catholic Church, and

it all died out; and here is the church (the rude timber church), with

still a few members, but all the farms and settlements passed into other

hands--as far as I could make out into the hands of a rich old man, who

lives anything but a holy life, and whose boarding-house for the

saw-mill hands in Val Crucis is an awful degradation! I saw at the

Duggers a large old Bible, and on it printed ‘Society of the Holy Cross,

Val Crucis,’ which the children were using to paste stories and pictures

in!”

* * * * *

The journal continues:--

Monday and Tuesday.--Crossed the Blue Ridge, descended John’s River,

and went to near the base of Table Mountain. Wednesday, ascended it. Was

fortunate enough to get Hudsonia montana, specimens and roots; also a

few roots of Thermopsis fraxinifolia. While digging one of these near

the base of the mountain, struck upon a little clump of Schweinitzia,

half buried in the leaves, five or six specimens; but a long hunt

furnished no more.

Thursday, crossed Linville River in sight of the North Cove (Michaux’s

old residence) and went to Carson’s on the Catawba. We lost a shoe from

our black horse while descending the Blue Ridge, and he wore his hoof so

as to lame him severely. Obliged to leave him at Carson’s (as we could

not exchange him to advantage) and hire another horse to take his place

for a week. Crossed the Swananoa gap; got fine near view of Black

Mountain; passed the night not far from its base (twelve miles from

Asheville). Should have ascended, but could not do it so as to get back

Saturday night to any place to stay, and longed to spend one Sunday in a

civilized place where we could attend public worship. So went on to

Asheville to dinner; passed Saturday afternoon in taking care of our

plants. Heard very good preaching at the Methodist church on Sunday.

Monday set out down the French Broad. Tuesday reached the Warm Springs;

got a luxurious bath. Rode the afternoon through the rain to Paint Rock,

etc.; stayed the night in Tennessee below. Got Buckleya in fruit, and

other things I can’t now specify. Wednesday, dug up Buckleyas, etc. Left

Mr. Sullivant at Warm Springs, who, not being able to bear the absence

from his wife and children longer, has left me alone with the team, and

is by this time more than halfway to Columbus. Thursday, returned to

Asheville. Friday, packed a fine box of roots, with which my wagon was

loaded. Sent for my black horse. Saturday, bad weather; but made a

little excursion on horseback, got roots of Arum quinatum, which, by the

way, often has the lateral leaflets not at all incised, and then (in

fruit) looks just like A. Virginicum. Buckley is often inquired after

here, and seems to have been quite a favorite. He might have enlivened

his journal had he informed us therein that he visited both Black and

Bald Mountains with a merry company of ladies, and camped out on the

summit! But the sly fellow kept all this to himself.

I begin to be in a hurry; but have yet much to do, and find it rather

lonely. Monday and Tuesday I intend to devote to Hickory-Nut Gap,

twenty-eight miles and back. Then visit Black, if I meddle with this

mountain at all. Then, taking final leave of Asheville, go into the

mountains near the head of French Broad, take up my quarters with a

well-known hunter, try to reach Pilot and other high mountains which

Buckley failed in reaching, and which have never been visited by a

botanist, unless by Rugel;[134] thence to Table Rock, South Carolina,

and by a roundabout way to Franklin, Macon County, Tolula Falls, and

Clarksville, Georgia, where I shall try to sell out my horses and wagon,

and take stage for Athens, where I am in the way to come by steam all

the way to Princeton, via Augusta and Charleston, which bid fair to be

healthy enough to warrant my passing through them without rashness.

It will be the 20th October ere I can hope to take you by the hand.

Truly welcome are the newspapers you have kindly sent; but I hope for

more by the next mail, for I have none later than the middle of

September.

I never have been so hurried, and had so little time to write, but shall

have the more to tell when I reach you, if it please Providence. Excuse

chirography also, for pen and ink are wretched and my hands sore.

Aster Curtisii abounds and is very showy. A. Elliottii takes here the

place of A. puniceus. I have found A. mirabilis.

Love to all, most warmly. Don’t fail to mention me to dear Herbert.

Monday morning.--Off for Hickory-Nut Gap, where the scenery is said to

be very grand, and the botanizing good. I am to get there Asplenium

pinnatifidum, Stuartia pentagyna, and Parnassia asarifolia. Hard work,

yet pleasant with a companion. I wish you could be with me.

Very pleasant Sunday service in the Presbyterian church here.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

CAMBRIDGE, November 4, 1843.

I have been absent in the mountains of Virginia and Carolina--after live

plants--from 11th August to yesterday; which will be my excuse for not

replying to your letter of September 15th. I hope in the mean time you

have found some way to send the roots you proposed. There are now

connected express lines all the way through. L. & P. Franciscus &

Company, No. 90 North Main St., St. Louis, are the agents of Brown &

Company Express, Philadelphia; this connects with Harnden’s Express to

Boston, the speediest and cheapest method of sending when the package or

box is not large, and speed is desirable....

Gaura Lindheimeri is a very fine plant, and flowered fully three months

in our Garden. I am having a drawing--hoping to publish it sometime. I

want more seeds of Œnothera rhombipetala. Ours flowered while I was

away, and was killed by the frost, so that I secured no drawing. Send me

all the seeds you can.

Inquire about the express to the East. We must somehow have the means of

a more speedy and regular communication of parcels.

I found what I believe is your Lepidanche adpressa at Harper’s Ferry,

Virginia. Also some others in the mountains, which, with a few other

plants, I will send to you by express soon....

You know I am obliged now to prepare for a terrible course of public

lectures, to commence in February, so that I cannot work at the “Flora”

until spring. But I will find time to study and revise any sets of

Lindheimer’s, Geyer’s, and Lüder’s plants you send....

As to my paper on Ceratophyllaceæ, I have long since wished it

unpublished, as it contains mistaken views. So I do not care to

distribute it.

February 2, 1844.

I have saved Gaura Lindheimeri by cuttings put in pots last autumn. We

shall have it in flower early in the spring, and then shall exhibit it

at the Horticultural Society’s rooms in Boston.

TO HIS FATHER.

CAMBRIDGE, November 18, 1843.

MY DEAR FATHER,--The return of my birthday brings to mind, among other

shortcomings, that I have neglected to write home since my return. I

have been very busy, of course, since the 3d of the month, when I

reached Cambridge, in answering the heap of letters that had

accumulated, and in other business. And I have but just found time to

commence the preparation of my course of lectures before the Lowell

Institute, which is to commence on the 27th of February, and which will

give me plenty of labor and anxiety until they are over....

I have laid in a good stock of health and strength for the labors of the

winter--which I am like to need, for I have a great deal to do. Another

year, if our lives are spared, I trust you will make me a visit here. I

have just given notice that I shall wish to take possession of the

Botanic Garden house (now rented to one of the professors) next autumn,

where, if I can get a room or two furnished, I shall have a place to

entertain you. Affectionate regards to mother and all the family.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, February 17.

My time of trial draws near. A week from Tuesday I begin. There has been

a pretty brisk application for tickets. But I have yet very much to do.

My two last lectures are not even blocked out upon paper. Many pictures

are yet to be made, and I shall have a busy time indeed until they are

all delivered. The end will be deliverance indeed. Yet strange as it may

seem, my spirits are rather on the rise; though I will not answer for

them for ten days longer.

I have written an introductory which, with a few more touches, I shall

be satisfied with. And some of my lectures which have least

illustrations--such as that on food and nutrition--are pretty carefully

written out. I have contrived a diagram illustrating the cycle of

relations of three kingdoms, which I think is capital (as it is quite

original), and which I long to show you. If I had three mouths more, I

am convinced I could put my materials into the form of a capital course

of lectures.

Zuccarini wrote me a year ago--when he sent the Japanese plants that we

looked over together--that the Japanese species utterly confounded the

difference between Rhododendron and Azalea; decandrous species having

deciduous leaves, etc. If they must come together (and De Candolle seems

doubtful) it would be a pity you did not follow that plan, as you early

adopted it.

Then after all, in such case, are the Azaleas, as they will ever be

called in cultivation, to make the section Azalea, or is A. procumbens

to take that name?...

I wish you could see my Lowell anatomical illustrations. The pity is,

that I shall hardly use them in this course, now that my introductory

lecture only brings me down to them. (but I shall have them spread to

look at), and I can only give to the subject about twenty minutes of my

second lecture.

But it is very late indeed. Adieu.

Yours cordially,

A. GRAY.

March 1, 1844.

Well, you have heard what I had to say about my introductory lecture. I

was satisfied. I said plainly what I intended to say and delivered it

not very well indeed, but well enough to satisfy me that I could do well

with practice. This evening I have made a second trial, and a more

trying one by far. I have a cold and am a little hoarse, which was a

good thing, for as to voice I filled the house. As I was full of

illustrations, quite as much as would cover the whole side of a barn, I

determined to try the experiment of lecturing by the general guidance of

my notes only (which indeed were but partly written out). So with the

long pole in hand to point at the pictures I set at work, and talked

away for an hour and ten minutes.

I felt like a person who can hardly swim, thrown into the river, fairly

in for it, and had to kick and strike to keep my head above water. The

results are these. I was by no means satisfied, and thought I had made

almost a failure. I left out many important points, I repeated myself a

little now and then, and,--the usual result of extemporizing,--I did not

get through, but was obliged to break off in the midst of the best of

it. But, in spite of some difficulties of expression, and bad sentences,

the whole was probably more spirited in appearance than if I had

followed my notes. And the audience generally seemed more moved by it

than by the first.

I consider it thus far successful; that under unfavorable circumstances,

for I had no time to look over my notes beforehand, I made a desperate

lunge, and yet avoided a real failure. It will place me so much at ease

that I can hereafter, with or without notes, look fairly at my audience

without wincing. So I shall do better hereafter....

I send you my notes (on Vacciniums) as far as written before I left for

the South last summer; and with all Boott’s memoranda as material. It

would be crazy for me now to attempt to make any memoranda, or even to

make the corrections that the new data require. Conclusions formed in

hurly-burly are good for nothing; and I cannot, and must not, think of

anything but my task. The two last of my lectures are not even arranged

yet.

TO J. D. HOOKER.

CAMBRIDGE, 1st March, 1844.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--I was very much gratified at receiving your kind letter

of January 16; and I was quite startled at the lapse of time, I assure

you, when you reminded me that five years had elapsed since we were

running about the streets of London together. Since that time you have

seen the world, indeed, or some very out-of-the-way parts of it; and you

now stand in a perfectly unrivaled position as a botanist, as to

advantages, etc., with the finest collections and libraries of the world

within your reach; and if you do not accomplish something worth the

while, you ought not to bear the name of Hooker.

I thank you most cordially for all the news you kindly give me

respecting the family, and wish to return my best thanks for being

remembered to one and all. Your good old grandfather holds out so well

that really I sometimes think I may yet take him again by the hand; for

I long to make another visit to England. Perhaps I may in two or three

years. But I hope ere that to see you here, where you may depend upon a

most hearty reception; and the Greenes (who send remembrances) join me

strenuously in begging you will make us a visit. After Sir William and

Lady Hooker (seniores priores), whom we cannot expect to see under

present circumstances, there is nobody in England I could so much wish

to see as yourself.

Had I time, I should fill this sheet with gossip about my occupations,

plans, and prospects. Of these hereafter, for I hope our correspondence

will not end here. But I am now exceedingly pressed for time, having

just commenced my course of public lectures in Boston on physiological

botany. Indeed I have the second lecture to give this evening, and much

preparation yet to make for it. But I must tell you that in August next

I am to take possession of the house which belongs to our little Botanic

Garden,--a quiet pleasant place, where I am to set up a bachelor

establishment, have room enough for my herbarium, which I shall arrange

à la Hooker, and a bed and a plate for a friend. So, if you wish to take

an autumnal excursion, step on board the steamer and so drop in upon me

some morning, where you may depend upon--in a humble way--as cordial a

reception as I once received in Scotland.

Sullivant, who is a good, spirited fellow, is delighted at the thought

of receiving a set of your cryptogamic collections. As to your generous

proposal to send another to some public collection in this country, we

will see. I will write something about it in due time.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, 25th March, [1844].

I think I should be an unhappy, discontented, unthankful person not to

be gratified with the success of my lectures. But it is not likely to

turn my head. Everything proceeds quietly and soberly. I purposely

directed no tickets to be sent to a paper that often reports lectures,

as I did not wish it done. There has not been a line in the papers about

the matter, except the very considerate notice about the beginning,

which I sent you. My last week’s lectures are called much the best. The

first, on the anatomy and physiology of leaves, and exhalation and its

consequences, occupied an hour and twenty minutes. My last, on food of

plants, vegetable digestion, and the relations of plants to mineral and

animal kingdoms,--in which I did my very best, and which required and

secured the most intense attention on the part of the audience for a

hundred minutes,--was received with an intelligent enthusiasm which did

the audience credit. For it would be mere affectation for me to pretend

not to know--as I well do--that it is one of the best scientific

lectures that have ever been delivered in Boston. I have none left to

compare with it. I have only four more to give, during which I dare say

the interest will fall off; which will not disappoint or mortify me.

From your truly kind remarks and warnings I suppose you look upon my

success in this undertaking as extremely hazardous to my best interests.

Now this duty came to me unsolicited and unexpected. I accepted it

because I thought it was my duty to do so. Then I was of course bound to

make every consistent effort to insure success. While viewing it at a

distance, I felt much anxiety. But before I commenced, this entirely

disappeared, and I have gone on just as coolly as you might do with your

chemical course. I am thankful that (owing chiefly to the nature and

novelty of the subject) I have done my work creditably. The little éclat

which attends it, I am not so foolish as to care anything for, pro or

con. It is entirely ephemeral. It may gratify my friends; but it does me

no good, and I trust no harm. The general result may benefit the science

of this part of the country. It will probably tend to advance my

interests, as I certainly wish it may, the object of my ambition being

high and honorable, as well as moderate....

Though I feel that I often--always--fail to do my whole duty, yet I do

not feel, nor believe, that a perfectly consistent Christian course

would expose me to persecution; nor that obloquy is a test of Christian

character. These are to be borne like other evils, when they are

incurred in the course of one’s duty; but surely they are not to be

sought, nor viewed as a test. Under the circumstances under which we are

placed, would our unexpectedly meeting with obloquy be any test to us

that we were doing right? Would it not lead us to suspect we had been at

least unwise? Such men as Payson or Edwards, though they may often have

been pitied, I suspect, were never persecuted. But, while I think you

take a one-sided view and assume, an unscriptural test, in your own

case, I thank you most sincerely for your kind admonition to me, and

will try to profit by it. My sheet is fairly full.

I need not say how delighted I should be to see you here; but you must

not come till the spring has fairly commenced, at least. The weather is

excessively unpleasant, the roads almost impassable; it snows every

three or four days, and not a speck of green is yet to be seen. A month

later it will be comfortable here. I fear I shall not have a place to

receive you before autumn, as a house is yet to be built for Dr. Walker.

But I should still like to have a visit from you in the course of the

summer.

* * * * *

Dr. Gray was always deeply interested in the religious thought of the

day; reticent in regard to his own religious feelings and sensitive

about any exhibition of them, he was ready at any time to discuss

problems of theology and ecclesiasticism. His temper was naturally

conservative, and he held by the habits of thought which had been early

formed; but he was open to conviction, and by the process of his own

thought broke through narrow bounds and rejoiced in all true progress in

religion, both for himself and others. In the matter of scriptural

authority, for example, he was in accord with Soame Jenyns, taking the

ground quoted here:

“The Scriptures,” says that writer, in his “Internal Evidences of

Christianity,” “are not revelations from God, but the history of them.

The revelations themselves are derived from God, but the history of them

is the production of man. If the records of this revelation are supposed

to be the revelation itself, the least defect discovered in them must be

fatal to the whole. What has led many to overlook this distinction is

that common phrase that the Scriptures are the Word of God; and in one

sense they certainly are; that is, they are the sacred repository of all

the revelations, dispensations, promises, and precepts which God has

vouchsafed to communicate to mankind; but by this expression we are not

to understand that every part of this voluminous collection of

historical, poetical, prophetical, theological, and moral writing which

we call the Bible was dictated by the immediate influence of Divine

inspiration.”

He held this ground strongly when the general view of the Bible was

narrower than of late years. As the years went on he grew broader and

sweeter, feeling wider sympathy with all true, devout religious belief.

He was a constant church-goer, everywhere. When traveling he always made

Sunday a resting-day if possible, and would go quietly off in the

morning to find some place of service, in English if he could. He

enjoyed the Episcopal service, though early habit and training had made

him a Presbyterian; but, as he wrote in an early letter, “In fact I have

no more fondness for high Calvinistic theology than for German

neology.... But I have no penchant for melancholy, sober as I sometimes

look, but turn always, like the leaves, my face to the sun.”

He was a teacher in Sunday-schools in New York (the lady with whom he

boarded has still a lively remembrance of his enthusiastic study of

German that he might teach his class of German boys better), and also in

his early years of Cambridge life, until the heavy load of work he was

carrying made the Sunday more imperative as a day of rest. It was his

rule to rest on Sunday. Rest for him was change of intellectual

occupation, and he read all of the day he was not out at church; more

especially on the philosophical questions, whether general or

scientific, which next to botany were his chief interest. Books on these

subjects were the few he bought outside of works on botany; as he said,

he could only afford botanical books and had no money or room for

general literature. He read the leading magazines, and occasionally

biographies and travels, and if he had friends staying with him, Sunday

was the day for talk and discussion. A friend writes such a lively

reminiscence of one of these Sunday discussions, on a stormy winter day

which shut all in the house, that it seems worth giving as a vivid

description of him.

“Dr. Gray is more associated with the study and the room next it, but I

recall him there (in the parlor) also, especially in the visit of which

you wrote, made when Mr. John Carey was with you. He and the doctor

held one Sunday a long discussion on the Ten Commandments as binding

upon Christians. Mr. Carey argued that their only claim upon our

obedience consisted in their having been re-ordained (indorsed as it

were) by the church,--whether that meant the Holy Catholic or simply the

Anglican Church was not decided, as I remember. Dr. Gray combated this

extreme church view warmly and cleverly. Both were pugnacious amiably,

as in their botanical fights. Both were excited, and the doctor showed

his excitement in his characteristically self-forgetful way, by moving

or jumping nervously about the room, sitting on the floor, lying down

flat, but laughing and sending sparks out of his eyes, and plying his

arguments and making his witty thrusts all the while. I enjoyed it very

much, scarcely observing the odd positions any more than the doctor did.

I had seen him so conduct himself before.”

It may be added to this that Dr. Gray was noticeable throughout his life

for his alertness. In the street he was usually on a half run, for he

never allowed himself quite time enough to reach his destination

leisurely. When traveling by coach and climbing a hill he would

sometimes alarm his fellow-travellers by suddenly disappearing through a

window in his eagerness to secure some plant he had spied; his haste

would not suffer him to open a door. As his motions were quick, so that

he seemed always ready for a spring, so he found instant relaxation by

throwing himself flat on the floor when tired, to rest, like a child.

His physical characteristics expressed something of his mental

qualities. He was quick and impetuous in temper, but his excitement was

short-lived, and his prevailing spirit was one of apparently

inexhaustible good-nature. He was the cheeriest of household

companions; rarely was he depressed, only indeed when greatly fagged

with some tremendous pressure of work or some worrying trouble difficult

to settle; he was exceedingly hopeful, and always carried with him a

happy assurance that everything was going on well in his absence;

withal, he was fearless in all adventure, never willing to allow there

had been any danger when it had passed! He was fond of arguing, but no

partisan, so that however earnest and dogmatic be might seem, the moment

the discussion was over there was no trace of bitterness or vexation

left. He was a clear and close reasoner himself, and thus impatient of

defective reasoning or a confused statement in others. He was quick,

too, in turning his opponents’ weapons against them; sometimes he would

escape from a dilemma in a merry, plausible form, but in serious

argument he always insisted upon downright sincerity.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

April 1, 1844.

I finish my course of Lowell lectures this week, which have succeeded

beyond my most sanguine expectations. I have restricted myself to

physiological botany only,--taken up only great leading views,--used

very large paintings for illustrations, six to eight feet high, which

the great size of the room required, and then have given to sound

scientific views a general popular interest.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, May 24, 1844.

I have been using Dr. Wyman’s microscope of late, and it works well. By

the way, I have been studying fertilization a little, and have got out

pollen-tubes of great length; have followed them down the style, have

seen them in the cavity of the ovary, and close to the orifice of the

ovule.

My first views were in Asarum Canadense and A. arifolium, where I can

very well see the pollen-tubes with even my three-line doublet! I have

seen them finely in Menyanthes; and in the ovary in Chelidonium!

I am lecturing[135] in a popular and general way entirely on

physiological botany, and offering no encouragement to any to pursue

systematic botany this year. My great point is to make physiological

botany appear as it should be,--the principal branch in general

education. Next year I hope to take up the other branch.

I am using the Lowell illustrations (though too large for my room), and

am having no additional ones made for the college. For simple things I

depend much upon the blackboard. I have given two lectures on the

longevity of trees, and have a third yet to give, or at least half of

another....

The plants from the mountains have some done well, others poorly.

Buckleyas had a hard time of it. Many are dead; none I think will flower

this season, as they only put out from the root. Diphylleia, Saxifraga

Careyana, a new one like it, also S. erosa, etc., are now in flower.

Astilbe is in bud, also Vaccinium ursinum. One Carex Fraseri flowered.

Hamiltonia only starts from the root.

* * * * *

In 1844, finding he needed more room for his rapidly increasing

herbarium, Dr. Gray applied for the use of the Botanic Garden house,

which since the death of Dr. Peck had been occupied for a while as a

boarding-house, and later by Dr. and Mrs. Walker. He moved into it in

September, and there remained until the end of his life. He had a great

attachment for the house, as the only one in which he had resided for

any length of time; and it saw the gradual growth of his herbarium,

needing before many years the addition of a wing to give more room,

until, having overrun all possible places for its accommodation, it was

removed in 1864 into the fireproof building which now holds it.

The garden was laid out by Dr. Peck in 1808, and the house built for him

was finished in 1810. Mr. Nuttall, the botanist and ornithologist, who

boarded in it while giving instruction in botany, left some curious

traces behind him. He was very shy of intercourse with his fellows, and

having for his study the southeast room, and the one above for his

bedroom, put in a trap-door in the floor of an upper connecting closet,

and so by a ladder could pass between his rooms without the chance of

being met in the passage or on the stairs. A flap hinged and buttoned in

the door between the lower closet and the kitchen allowed his meals to

be set in on a tray without the chance of his being seen. A window he

cut down into an outer door, and with a small gate in the board fence

surrounding the garden, of which he alone had the key, he could pass in

and out safe from encountering any human being.

The garden, though small, was planned with much skill, and when Dr. Gray

first lived on the place was much more filled up in the centre with

trees and shrubs, so that since one was unable to see from one path to

another, it seemed much larger than when more open. Dr. Peck, who had

visited Europe and learned much of botanical gardens there, when

complimented on his success in laying it out, said that “he felt he had

been at work on a pocket-handkerchief!” Dr. Gray, as his letters show,

fell earnestly at work to restock the garden, and from his various

journeys, his correspondents, and the many seeds and roots which were

coming in from the Western explorations soon made it a valuable spot for

exchange. It is interesting to note how many plants, now the common

stock of all gardens, were first grown and flowered here. One bed for

many years always went by the familiar name of “Texas,” as being the

place where the new Texan seeds were grown. The fund for endowment was

very small, and added greatly to the care of its oversight, because of

the effort to keep within the income. For two years after Dr. Gray was

living in the Garden house, he gave up two bed-rooms to the greenhouse

plants, and so saved the Garden the expense of fuel for that period! One

of his first deeds was to abolish the fee and make admission to the

Garden free. It was the first--and remained for more than sixty years

the only--public botanic garden in the country.

TO JOHN TORREY.

Tuesday evening, October 1, 1844.

I am about half fixed at the Garden, and shall probably sleep there

to-morrow night. Were it not that my woman-kind has disappointed me, we

should dine there to-morrow....

Dr. Wyman[136] wishes much to accompany Frémont if he goes on another

journey, entirely at his own expense, if need be. As his object is

entirely zoölogy, he will not interfere with Frémont’s botanical plans,

while the results would redound to Frémont’s advantage. He is a most

amiable, quiet, and truly gentlemanly fellow, retiring to a fault, but

full of nerve, and surely is to be the great man of this country in the

highest branches of zoölogy and comparative anatomy. I therefore very

strenuously solicit your influence at court in his behalf.

I am glad that Frémont takes so much personal interest in his botanical

collections. He will do all the more. I should like to see his plants,

especially the Compositæ and Rosaceæ. As to Coniferæ he should have the

Taxodium sempervirens, so imperfectly known, and probably a new genus.

Look quick at it, for it is probably in Coulter’s collection which

Harvey is working at....

Cordially yours,

A. GRAY.

February 12, 1845.

My first lecture is to-day finished, and has this evening been read to

Mr. Albro.[137] Half of it is devoted to a serving up of “Vestiges of

Creation” (which Boott says is written by Sir Richard Vivian), showing

that the objectionable conclusions rest upon gratuitous and unwarranted

inferences from established or probable facts. Peirce is examining

Mulder,[138] that we may fairly get at his point of view. His

conclusions as to equivocal generation are non-constat from his own

premises. On the whole series of subjects Peirce--who is much pleased

with the way I have put the case in my introductory--and myself think

of concocting a joint article, though my time will prevent me from

working out some of the subsidiary points just now.

I assure you I am quite well and hearty, just in capital working mood.

As to the lectures, I must work hard all the way through, but do not

feel any misgivings. My house is hot enough, I assure you; no trouble on

that score. As to spontaneous generation, the experiment of Schultz[139]

is nearly or quite a test, and goes against it. Love to all.

Ever yours,

A. GRAY.

The next letter contains the first allusion to Isaac Sprague, so long

associated with Dr. Gray as illustrator of his works. Isaac Sprague was

born in Hingham in 1811. He early showed a faculty for observation, and

a gift for painting birds and flowers from nature. His talent was

discovered, and he was invited by Audubon in 1843 to join his expedition

to Missouri, and to assist in making drawings and sketches. President,

then Professor, Felton, having met him in Hingham, and knowing Dr. Gray

was looking for some one for his scientific drawings, recommended Mr.

Sprague, and he began with the illustrations for the Lowell lectures and

the new edition of the “Botanical Text-Book.” Dr. Gray was delighted

with his gift for beauty, his accuracy, his quick appreciation of

structure and his skill in making dissections. Mr. Sprague was from that

time the chief, and mostly only, illustrator for his books, both

educational and purely scientific.

Dr. Gray is said to have stated that Mr. Sprague had but one

rival,--Riocreux; and he considered that draughtsman’s classical

drawings inferior to Mr. Sprague’s.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, March 8, [1845?]

... I finish Lichens this afternoon; and have next two lectures on Fungi

and spontaneous generation to give. I interweave a good deal of matter,

such as, on Ferns, the part they played in the early times of the world,

à la Brongniart. Mosses, filling up lakes and pools; Sphagnum, Peat.

Lichens, first agents in clothing rocks with soil. I have noble

illustrations of rust in wheat, ergot, etc., and Sprague is now hard at

work on smut, à la Bauer.

You remember the letter I sent you from Prestele of “Ebenezer, near

Buffalo,” and which you still hold. Well, he has sent me for inspection

a most superb set of drawings, both of cultivated and of some native

plants, exceedingly well done. Also specimens of his work in cutting on

stone, which he does admirably. He did the work in Bischoff’s

“Terminology,” which perhaps you remember, two quarto volumes. What a

pity he did not have the State-Flora plates to execute!

If Dr. Beck and yourself go on with your plan, he is your man to engrave

the plates on stone. Our Illicium is now in full flower; but I cannot

spare Sprague a moment to draw it yet; unless, indeed, it is quite

certain you will want it this year, when I would try. He must work hard

for me two weeks longer....

My cutting up of “Vestiges of Creation” was a fine blow, and told.

Peirce, who you know was rather inclined to favor Rogers a while ago, is

now sound and strong. We think of sending a critical analysis of the

first part of Mulder, as our joint work (if he finds time to put in form

the physiological deductions I give him), to the meeting of geologists

and naturalists at New Haven next month.

Mulder is very ingenious; but we can blow up the whole line of his

arguments, and show that it all amounts to nothing; that he has not in

this advanced our knowledge a particle; and that his generalizations are

unsound. Why did you not have a part of my article reprinted in New

York? That would be the best reply to all his stuff.

The printing of my book will be through next week.

March 30.

I am now half through, and have got almost done with Fungi. The audience

take so much to the “Cryptogamic matters,” especially the afternoon

audience, which is as a whole the most intelligent and refined, that I

let them run on, and they will occupy the whole course, except three

lectures. I gave one lecture, generally thought nearly the best, on the

large Fungi, mushrooms, truffles, morels, puff-balls, with some good

general matters. To-day I have taken the small ones, moulds, mildews,

rust, and smut in wheat, with superb illustrations. Ergot is still left

over, along with the diseases in potatoes, the plant of fermentation,

the Botrytis that kills silk-worms, with some recapitulatory matters on

spontaneous generation, which must be cooked up for Friday. Then comes

Algæ; the large proper ones (Lecture 8), of which a fine series of

illustrations is now nearly done.

Lecture 9. Then the low, minute forms and Confervæ come, and gory dew,

red snow, superbly illustrated, ending with diatoms, transitions to

corallines through sponge, etc., and the locomotive spores of Confervæ,

Zoösporæ.

Lecture 10. Whole subject of spontaneous movements and sensibility in

flowering plants, the life of plants, etc. (treated in a somewhat

original way), and the real differences between plants and animals.

Lecture 11. The principles of classification. Individuals, species,

their permanence, genera, orders, etc.

Lecture 12. Historical development. The Linnæan system, the natural.

This ends so as to give me a fine place to begin at next year....

I shall soon be able to spare Sprague to draw the Illicium, if it still

holds on. But I cannot spare him just yet. He has still to copy the

red-snow bank from Ross, eighteen feet long!--finish two pieces of algæ,

etc., etc.

TO A. DE CANDOLLE.

April 5, 1845.

I anxiously wait for the notices of the life and writings of your

lamented father, which you so kindly offer. I agree with you that that

of Daubeny[140] gives the best view of the philosophy of his science;

and yet there are points of view that he has not touched upon. You, of

course, know better than any one else what were your father’s

philosophical views in natural history, his modes of thinking and

working; and if, when you send me the above-mentioned documents, you

would also feel at liberty to place such confidence in me as to give me

your own views and suggestions upon the subject, and especially upon

the points that other writers appear to have overlooked, I should be

able to produce, in the “North American Review,” a much more important

article and a worthier tribute to the memory of one so revered on this

side of the Atlantic as well as in Europe. May I hope you will favor me

in this respect?

Many thanks for the botanical news. I long to be delivered from the

pressure of the engagements that have consumed so much of my time for

the last year or two, and finish the “Flora of North America.”

I remain, ever, my dear friend, faithfully yours,

A. GRAY.

TO JOHN TORREY.

August, 1845.

The new post-office law is an excellent thing, as it enables us to

exchange our missives frequently, to send little pieces of news, and ask

and answer questions without waiting for time and matter to fill up a

formal letter.

I must tell you a little change made in my sanctum here. You are to

imagine me writing at a sort of bureau-escritoire (standing under Robert

Brown’s picture), which I fortunately picked up the other day for $10.

It is of old dark wood a century old, and contains below four drawers,

while the upper part, which opens into a fine writing-table, has eight

pigeon-holes, six drawers, and a little special lock-up with several

drawers and pigeon-holes more. You know I like any quantity of these

stowaway places. I have sent upstairs the table which stood in its

place, and brought down the round one, so that I have more room than

before.

TO W. J. HOOKER.

October 14, 1845.

Your excellent father lived to a truly patriarchal age. Mine, who has

been in failing health for some time, I learn to-day is suddenly and

extremely sick, and I set out for my birthplace immediately, in hopes

yet to see him once more.

* * * * *

His father died October 13, before he reached Sauquoit. He had made his

son a visit in Cambridge after he was established at the Garden house,

more especially to consult a physician for his failing health.

TO JOHN TORREY.

CAMBRIDGE, November 15, 1845.