why I objected to
a given sentence, since I naturally could not baldly express my
disapproval. It was not only good training, but as has been well said by
my sister (who also helped in this way), "It was inexpressibly
exhilarating to work for him"--and she continues--referring to the
generous way in which he took our suggestions, "I think I felt the
singular modesty and graciousness of his nature through thus working for
him in a way I should never otherwise have done."

How far every boy ought to be made to do mathematics (beyond simple
arithmetic) I cannot say. I know that I am extremely grateful for the
small amount of mathematics forced into me. I am even thankful for a
very mechanical side of the subject, namely, the use of mathematical
tables in general, and for being compelled to work out innumerable sums
by logarithms, which we had to do in a "neat tabular form" to quote our
precise master's words.

Certainly my opportunities were strikingly better than my father's, who
records that at Shrewsbury School nothing {85} was taught but classics,
ancient history and ancient geography. Euclid, which he liked and felt
to be educational, was taught by a private tutor who had the attractive
characteristic of wearing top boots.

I now pass from general education to the teaching of science. When I
went to Cambridge in 1866, the teaching, as far as the biological
sciences went, was in a somewhat dead condition. Indeed, I hardly think
it had advanced much from the state of things which existed in 1828, when
my father entered Christ's College. Cambridge was a turning point in his
scientific life, chiefly through Professor Henslow's discovery that the
youth, whom his father Dr. R. W. Darwin thought likely to be a mere
sporting man and a disgrace to his family, was really a remarkable
person, possessed by a burning zeal for science. Henslow made a friend
of my father (he was known as the "man who walks with Henslow"), and
recommended him as naturalist to the "Beagle," where he was made into a
man of science.

In my time there were two ways of acquiring knowledge: attending the
lectures of University professors, and going to a _coach_. Lectures, as
my father has said, have "no advantages and many disadvantages . . .
compared with reading." And the same view (or heresy as he confesses it
to be) has been well given by the late Henry Sidgwick in his
_Miscellaneous Essays_ (1904). He holds that a purely expository
lec