Word: darwin
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...overboard! We cannot help but admire the fine attitude of your reviewer, who bewails the fact that "the story has depressingly little to say about religion . . ." You strike the final blow for the church in BOOKS-by printing the miserable caricature of Charles Darwin . . . Perhaps I should change my reading habits and switch to Esquire. It has no "message"-but the girls are better-looking...
Nurse for the Patient. The only casualty in Darwin's struggle was Darwin himself. His ailments included "weakness, fatigue, headache, insomnia, sinking feelings and dizziness." Actually, sickness was a vast help to him. "A half-hour's conversation with a stranger could give him a sleepless night"-so Darwin happily avoided strangers. "An hour in church could produce dizziness and nausea"-so Darwin had time for his barnacles even on Sundays. He paid tribute to the very heaviest tomes by reclining in a chair to read them with numerous cushions under him. As this made his legs uncomfortable...
...companion (& friend in old age)-charms of music & female chitchat . . . Only picture to yourself a nice soft wife on a sofa, with good fire and books . . ." In 1839 he married firm, kindly Emma Wedgwood: "the perfect nurse had married the perfect patient." Among their many common bonds was backgammon. Darwin tabulated the results of all their games, so that towards the end of his life he was able to write to a friend: "She, poor creature, has won only 2,490 games, whilst I have won, hurrah, hurrah, 2,795 games...
Drafts in the Abbey. The theme of Apes, Angels & Victorians is the evolution of evolutionary theory, and it is not Author Irvine's fault if Darwin the man almost steals the whole show. Imbedded in crustaceans, orchids, insectivorous plants and earthworms. Darwin seems at one moment the most innocent and lovable of sages, at the next the most cunning of nervous foxes. From Down House, his retreat in Kent, he issued a stream of letters to his disciples and champions, urging them on, tactfully setting them straight, occasionally punctuating his orders with childlike cries of "Oh my gracious...
Except for a few short trips, Darwin emerged from Down House only for his funeral (1882) in Westminster Abbey. The ceremony was terrific: all sat in awe as the coffin of the archfiend, "borne by Huxley, Hooker, Wallace, Lubbock, James Russell Lowell, Canon Ferrar, an Earl, two Dukes, and the President of the Royal Society," was carried in amid the angelic chanting of choirboys. Fortunately, there was a living Darwin present, his son William, to give the ceremony a characteristically Darwinian touch. The abbey was very drafty, so William, "with the respect shown by all Darwins for the possible invasion...