Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley — Volume 1

by Thomas Henry Huxley

CHAPTER 1.18.

1864.

[The year 1864 was much like 1863. The Hunterian Lectures were still part of his regular work. The Fishery Commission claimed a large portion of his time. from March 28 to April 2 he was in Cornwall; on May 7 at Shoreham; from July 24 to September 9 visiting the coasts of Scotland and Ireland. The same pressure of work continued. He published four papers on paleontological or anatomical subjects in the "Natural History Review" (On "Cetacean Fossils termed Ziphius by Cuvier," in the "Transactions of the Geological Society"; in those of the "Zoological," papers on "Arctocebus Calabarensis" and "The Structure of the Stomach in Desmodus Rufus"; and on the "Osteology of the Genus Glyptodon," in the "Philosophical Transactions."), he wrote "Further Remarks upon the Human Remains from the Neanderthal," and later, dealing with "Criticisms on the 'Origin of Species'" ("Collected Essays" 2 page 80 "Darwiniana"), he gently but firmly dispersed several misconceptions of his old friend Kolliker as to the plain meaning of the book; and ridiculed the pretentious ignorance of M. Flourens' dicta upon the same subject; while in the winter he delivered a course of lectures to working men on "The Various Races of Mankind," a choice of subject which shows that his chief interest at that time lay in Ethnology.]

Jermyn Street, January 16, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I have had no news of you for a long time, but I earnestly hope you are better.

Have you any objection to putting your name to Flower's certificate for the Royal Society herewith inclosed? It will please him much if you will; and I go bail for his being a thoroughly good man in all senses of the word—which, as you know, is more than I would say for everybody.

Don't write any reply; but Mrs. Darwin perhaps will do me the kindness to send the thing on to Lyell as per enclosed envelope. I will write him a note about it.

We are all well, barring customary colds and various forms of infantile pip. As for myself, I am flourishing like a green bay tree (appropriate comparison, Soapy Sam would observe), in consequence of having utterly renounced societies and society since October.

I have been working like a horse, however, and shall work "horser" as my college lectures begin in February.

Tout a vous,

T.H. Huxley.

Royal School of Mines, Jermyn Street, April 18, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I was rejoiced to see your handwriting again, so much so that I shall not scold you for undertaking the needless exertion (as it's my duty to do) of writing to thank me for my book. [Hunterian Lectures on Anatomy.]

I thought the last lecture would be nuts for you, but it is really shocking. There is not the smallest question that Owen wrote both the article "Oken" and the "Archetype Book," which appeared in its second edition in French—why, I know not. I think that if you will look at what I say again, there will not be much doubt left in your mind as to the identity of the writer of the two.

The news you give of yourself is most encouraging; but pray don't think of doing any work again yet. Careful as I have been during this last winter not to burn the candle at both ends, I have found myself, since the pressure of my lectures ceased, in considerable need of quiet, and I have been lazy accordingly.

I don't know that I fear, with you, caring too much for science—for there are lots of other things I should like to go into as well, but I do lament more and more as time goes on, the necessity of becoming more and more absorbed in one kind of work, a necessity which is created for any one in my position, partly by one's reputation, and partly by one's children. For directly a man gets the smallest repute in any branch of science, the world immediately credits him with knowing about ten times as much as he really does, and he becomes bound in common honesty to do his best to climb up to his reputed place. And then the babies are a devouring fire, eating up the present and discounting the future; they are sure to want all the money one can earn, and to be the better for all the credit one can win.

However, I should fare badly without the young monkeys. Your pet Marian is almost as shy as ever, though she has left off saying "can't," by the way.

My wife is wonderfully well. As I tell her, Providence has appointed her to take care of me when I am broken down and decrepit.

I hope you can say as much of Mrs. Darwin. Pray give her my kind regards.

And believe me, ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[A letter to his sister gives a sketch of his position at this time, speaking of which he says to Dr. (afterwards Sir J.) Fayrer,] "You and I have travelled a long way, in all senses, since you settled my career for me on the steps of the Charing Cross Hospital." [It must be remembered that his sister was living in Tennessee, and that her son at fifteen was serving in the Confederate army.]

Jermyn Street, May 4, 1864.

You will want to know something about my progress in the world. Well, at this moment I am Professor of Natural History here, and Hunterian Professor of Comparative Anatomy at the College of Surgeons. The former is the appointment I have held since 1855; the latter chair I was asked to take last year, and now I have delivered two courses in that famous black gown with the red facings which the doctor will recollect very well. What with the duties of these two posts and other official and non-official business, I am worked to the full stretch of my powers, and sometimes a little beyond them; though hitherto I have stood the wear and tear very well.

I believe I have won myself a pretty fair place in science, but in addition to that I have the reputation (of which, I fear, you will not approve) of being a great heretic and a savage controversialist always in rows. To the accusation of heresy I fear I must plead guilty; but the second charge proceeds only, I do assure you, from a certain unconquerable hatred of lies and humbug which I cannot get over.

I have read all you tell me about the south with much interest and with the warmest sympathy, so far as the fate of the south affects you. But I am in the condition of most thoughtful Englishmen. My heart goes with the south, and my head with the north.

I have no love for the Yankees, and I delight in the energy and self-sacrifice of your people; but for all that, I cannot doubt that whether you beat the Yankees or not, you are struggling to uphold a system which must, sooner or later, break down.

I have not the smallest sentimental sympathy with the negro; don't believe in him at all, in short. But it is clear to me that slavery means, for the white man, bad political economy; bad social morality; bad internal political organisation, and a bad influence upon free labour and freedom all over the world. For the sake of the white man, therefore, for your children and grandchildren, directly, and for mine, indirectly, I wish to see this system ended. [Cf. "Reader," February 27 onwards, where these general arguments against slavery appear in a controversy arising from his ninth Hunterian Lecture, in which, while admitting negro inferiority, he refutes those who justify slavery on the ground that physiologically the negro is very low in the scale.] Would that the south had had the wisdom to initiate that end without this miserable war!

All this must jar upon you sadly, and I grieve that it does so; but I could not pretend to be other than I am, even to please you. Let us agree to differ upon this point. If I were in your place I doubt not I should feel as you do; and, when I think of you, I put myself in your place and feel with you as your brother Tom. The learned gentleman who has public opinions for which he is responsible is another "party" who walks about in T's clothes when he is not thinking of his sister.

If this were not my birthday I should not feel justified in taking a morning's holiday to write this long letter to you. The ghosts of undone pieces of work are dancing about me, and I must come to an end.

Give my love to your husband. I am glad to hear he wears so well. And don't forget to give your children kindly thoughts of their uncle. Dr. Wright gives a great account of my namesake, and says he is the handsomest youngster in the Southern States. That comes of his being named after me, you know how renowned for personal beauty I always was.

I asked Dr. Wright if you had taken to spectacles, and he seemed to think not. I had a pain about my eyes a few months ago, but I found spectacles made this rather worse and left them off again. However, I do catch myself holding a newspaper further off than I used to do.

Now don't let six months go by without writing again. If our little venture succeeds this time, we shall send again. [I.e. a package of various presents to the family.] Ever, my dearest Lizzie, your affectionate brother,

T.H. Huxley.

[He writes to his wife, who had taken the children to Margate:—]

September 22.

I am now busy over a paper for the Zoological Society; after that there is one for the Ethnological which was read last session though not written…Don't blaspheme about going into the bye-ways. They are both in the direct road of the book, only over the hills instead of going over the beaten path.

October 6.

I heard from Darwin last night jubilating over an article of mine which is published in the last number of the "Natural History Review," and which he is immensely pleased with…My lectures tire me, from want of practice, I suppose. I shall soon get into swing.

[The article in question was the "Criticisms of the 'Origin of Species'" of which he writes to Darwin:—]

Jermyn Street, October 5, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I am very glad to see your handwriting (in ink) again, and none the less on account of the pretty words into which it was shaped.

It is a great pleasure to me that you like the article, for it was written very hurriedly, and I did not feel sure when I had done that I had always rightly represented your views.

Hang the two scalps up in your wigwam!

Flourens I could have believed anything of, but how a man of Kolliker's real intelligence and ability could have so misunderstood the question is more than I can comprehend.

It will be a thousand pities, however, if any review interferes with your saying something on the subject yourself. Unless it should give you needless work I heartily wish you would.

Everybody tells me I am looking so exceedingly well that I am ashamed to say a word to the contrary. But the fact is, I get no exercise, and a great deal of bothering work on our Commission's Cruise; and though much fatter (indeed a regular bloater myself), I am not up to the mark. Next year I will have a real holiday. [At the end of the year, as so often, he went off for a ploy with Tyndall, this time into Derbyshire, walking vigorously over the moors.]

I am a bachelor, my wife and belongings being all at that beautiful place, Margate. When I came back I found them all looking so seedy that I took them off bag and baggage to that, as the handiest place, before a week was over. They are wonderfully improved already, my wife especially being abundantly provided with her favourite east wind. Your godson is growing a very sturdy fellow, and I begin to puzzle my head with thinking what he is and what he is not to be taught.

Please to remember me very kindly to Mrs. Darwin, and believe me, yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[The following illustrates the value he set upon public examinations as to a practical means for spreading scientific education, and upon first-rate examiners as a safeguard of proper methods of teaching.]

October 6, 1864.

My dear Hooker,

Donnelly told me to-day that you had been applied to by the Science and Tarts Department to examine for them in botany, and that you had declined.

Will you reconsider the matter? I have always taken a very great interest in the science examinations, looking upon them, as I do, as the most important engine for forcing science into ordinary education.

The English nation will not take science from above, so it must get it from below.

Having known these examinations from the beginning, I can assure you that they are very genuine things, and are working excellently. And what I have regretted from the first is that the botanical business was not taken in hand by you, instead of by —.

Now, like a good fellow, think better of it. The papers are necessarily very simple, and one of Oliver's pupils could look them over for you. Let us have your co-operation and the advantage of that reputation for honesty and earnestness which you have contrived (Heaven knows how) to get.

I have come back fat and seedy for want of exercise. All my belongings are at Margate. Hope you don't think my review of Darwin's critics too heretical if you have seen it.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

When is our plan for getting some kind of meeting during the winter to be organised?

[The next two letters refer to the award of the Copley Medal to Mr. Darwin. Huxley was exceedingly indignant at an attempt on the part of the president to discredit the "Origin" by a side wind:—]

Jermyn Street, November 4, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I write two lines which are NOT TO BE ANSWERED, just as to say how delighted I am at the result of the doings of the Council of the Royal Society yesterday. Many of us were somewhat doubtful of the result, and the more ferocious sort had begun to whet their beaks and sharpen their claws in preparation for taking a very decided course of action had there been any failure of justice this time. But the affair was settled by a splendid majority, and our ruffled feathers are smoothed down.

Your well-won reputation would not have been lessened by the lack of the
Copley, but it would have been an indelible reproach to the Royal
Society not to have given it to you, and a good many of us had no notion
of being made to share that ignominy.

But quite apart from all these grand public-spirited motives and their results, you ought as a philanthropist to be rejoiced in the great satisfaction the award has given to your troops of friends, to none more than my wife (whom I woke up to tell the news when I got home late last night).

Yours ever,

T.H. Huxley.

Please remember us kindly to Mrs. Darwin, and make our congratulations to her on owning a Copley medallist.

Jermyn Street, December 3, 1864.

My dear Hooker,

I wish you had been at the Anniversary Meeting and Dinner, because the latter was very pleasant, and the former, to me, very disagreeable. My distrust of Sabine is as you know chronic, and I went determined to keep careful watch on his address, lest some crafty phrase injurious to Darwin should be introduced. My suspicious were justified. The only part of the address to Darwin written by Sabine himself contained the following passage:—

"Speaking generally and collectively, we have expressly omitted it
(Darwin's theory) from the grounds of our award."

Of course this would be interpreted by everybody as meaning that, after due discussion, the council had formally resolved not only to exclude Darwin's theory from the grounds of the award, but to give public notice through the president that they had done so, and furthermore, that Darwin's friends had been base enough to accept an honour for him on the understanding that in receiving it he should be publicly insulted!

I felt that this would never do, and therefore when the resolution for printing the address was moved, I made a speech which I took care to keep perfectly cool and temperate, disavowing all intention of interfering with the liberty of the president to say what he pleased, but exercising my constitutional right of requiring the minutes of council making the award to be read, in order that the Society might be informed whether the conditions implied by Sabine had been imposed or not.

The resolution was read, and of course nothing of the kind appeared. Sabine didn't exactly like it, I believe. Both Busk and Falconer remonstrated against the passage to him, and I hope it will be withdrawn when the address is printed. [The passage stands in the published address, but followed by another passage which softens it down.]

If not there will be an awful row, and I for one will show no mercy.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[The foundation of the x Club towards the earth 1864 was a notable event for Huxley and his circle of scientific friends. It was growing more and more difficult for them to see one another except now and again at meetings of the learned societies, and even that was quite uncertain. The pressure of Huxley's own work may be inferred from his letters at this time (especially to Darwin, July 2, 1863, and January 16, 1864). Not only society, but societies had to be almost entirely given up. Moreover, the distance from one another at which some of these friends lived, added another difficulty, so that Huxley writes to Hooker in his] "remote province" [of Kew:] "I wonder if we are ever to meet again in this world." [Accordingly in January 1864, Hooker gladly embraced a proposal of Huxley's to organise some kind of regular meeting, a proposal which bore fruit in the establishment of the x Club. On November 3, 1864, the first meeting was held at St. George's Hotel, Albemarle Street, where they resolved to dine regularly "except when Benham cannot have us, in which case dine at the Athenaeum." In the latter eighties, however, the Athenaeum became the regular place of meeting, and it was here that the "coming of age" of the club was celebrated in 1885.

Eight members met at the first meeting; the second meeting brought their numbers up to nine by the addition of W. Spottiswoode, but the proposal to elect a tenth member was never carried out. On the principle of lucus a non lucendo, this lent an additional appropriateness to the symbol x, the origin of which Huxley thus describes in his reminiscences of Tyndall in the "Nineteenth Century" for January 1894:—]

At starting, our minds were terribly exercised over the name and constitution of our society. As opinions on this grave matter were no less numerous than the members—indeed more so—we finally accepted the happy suggestion of our mathematicians to call it the x Club; and the proposal of some genius among us, that we should have no rules, save the unwritten law not to have any, was carried by acclamation.

[Besides Huxley, the members of the club were as follows:—

George Busk, F.R.S. (1807-87), then secretary of the Linnean Society, a skilful anatomist. (He served as surgeon to the hospital ship "Dreadnought" at Greenwich till 1856, when he resigned and, retiring from practice, devoted himself to scientific pursuits, and was elected President of the College of Surgeons in 1871.)

Edward Frankland (1825-1899), Foreign Secretary R.S., K.C.B., then
Professor of Chemistry in the Royal Institution, and afterwards at the
Royal College of Science.

Thomas Archer Hirst, F.R.S., then mathematical master at University
College School. (In 1865 appointed Professor of Physics; in 1867, of
Pure Mathematics, at University College, London; and from 1873 to 1883
Director of Naval Studies at the Royal Naval College, Greenwich; an old
Marburg student, and intimate friend of Tyndall, whom he had succeeded
at Queenwood College in 1853. He died in 1892.)

Joseph Dalton Hooker, F.R.S., K.C.S.I., President of the Royal Society 1873, the great botanist, then Assistant Director at Kew Gardens to his father, Sir William Hooker.

Sir John Lubbock, Bart., F.R.S., M.P., the youngest of the nine, who had already made his mark in archeology, and was then preparing to bring out his "Prehistoric Times."

Herbert Spencer, who had already published "Social Statics," "Principles of Psychology," and "First Principles."

William Spottiswoode (1825-1883), F.R.S., Treasurer and afterwards
President of the Royal Society 1878, who carried on the business of the
Queen's printer as well as being deeply versed in mathematics,
philosophy, and languages.

John Tyndall, F.R.S., (1820-1893), who had been for the last eleven years Professor of Natural Philosophy at the Royal Institution, where he succeeded Faraday as superintendent.

The one object, then, of the club was to afford a certain meeting-ground for a few friends who were bound together by personal regard and community of scientific interests, yet were in danger of drifting apart under the stress of circumstances. They dined together on the first Thursday in each month, except July, August, and September, before the meeting of the Royal Society, of which all were members excepting Mr. Spencer, the usual dining hour being six, so that they should be in good time for the society's meeting at eight; and a minute of December 5, 1885, when Huxley was treasurer and revived the ancient custom of making some note of the conversation, throws light on the habits of the club. "Got scolded," he writes, "for dining at 6.30. Had to prove we have dined at 6.30 for a long time by evidence of waiter." (At the February meeting, however, "agreed to fix dinner hour six hereafter.") "Talked politics, scandal, and the three classes of witnesses—liars, d—d liars, and experts. Huxley gave account of civil list pension. Sat to the unexampled hour of 10 p.m., except Lubbock who had to go to Linnean."

For some time there was a summer meeting, which consisted of a week-end excursion of members and their wives (x's + yv's, as the correct formula ran) to some place like Burnham or Maidenhead, Oxford or Windsor; but this grew increasingly difficult to arrange, and dropped before very long.

Guests were not excluded from the dinners of the club; men of science or letters of almost every nationality dined with the x at one time or another; Darwin, W.K. Clifford, Colenso, Strachey, Tollemache, Helps; Professors Bain, Masson, Robertson Smith, and Bentham the botanist, Mr. John Morley, Sir D. Galton, Mr. Jodrell, the founder of several scientific lectureships; Dr. Klein; the Americans Marsh, Gilman, A. Agassiz, and Youmans, the latter of whom met here several of the contributors to the "International Science Series" organised by him; and continental representatives, as Helmholtz, Laugel, and Cornu.

Small as the club was, the members of it were destined to play a considerable part in the history of English science. Five of them received the Royal Medal; three the Copley; one the Rumford, six were Presidents of the British Association; three Associates of the Institute of France; and from amongst them the Royal Society chose a Secretary, a Foreign Secretary, a Treasurer, and three successive Presidents.]

I think, originally [writes Huxley, l.c.] there was some vague notion of associating representatives of each branch of science; at any rate, the nine who eventually came together could have managed, among us, to contribute most of the articles to a scientific Encyclopaedia.

[They included leading representatives of half a dozen branches of science:—mathematics, physics, philosophy, chemistry, botany, and biology; and all were animated by similar ideas of the high function of science, and of the great Society which should be the chief representative of science in this country. However unnecessary, it was perhaps not unnatural that a certain jealousy of the club and its possible influence grew up in some quarters. But whatever influence fell to it as it were incidentally—and earnest men with such opportunities of mutual understanding and such ideals of action could not fail to have some influence on the progress of scientific organisation—it was assuredly not sectarian nor exerted for party purposes during the twenty-eight years of the club's existence.]

I believe that the x [continues Huxley] had the credit of being a sort of scientific caucus, or ring, with some people. In fact, two distinguished scientific colleagues of mine once carried on a conversation (which I gravely ignored) across me, in the smoking-room of the Athenaeum, to this effect, "I say, A., do you know anything about the x Club?" "Oh, yes, B., I have heard of it. What do they do?" "Well, they govern scientific affairs, and really, on the whole, they don't do it badly." If my good friends could only have been present at a few of our meetings, they would have formed a much less exalted idea of us, and would, I fear, have been much shocked at the sadly frivolous tone of our ordinary conversation.

[The x club is probably unique in the smallness of its numbers, the intellectual eminence of its members, and the length of its unchanged existence. The nearest parallel is to be found in "The Club." (Of which Huxley was elected a member in 1884. Tyndall and Hooker were also members.) Like the x, "The Club" began with eight members at its first meeting, and of the original members Johnson lived twenty years, Reynolds twenty-eight, Burke thirty-three, and Bennet Langton thirty-seven. But the ranks were earlier broken. Within ten years Goldsmith died, and he was followed in a twelvemonth by Nugent, and five years later by Beauclerk and Chamier. Moreover, the eight were soon increased to twelve; then to twenty and finally to forty, while the gaps were filled up as they occurred.

In the x, on the contrary, nearly nineteen years passed before the original circle was broken by the death of Spottiswoode. From 1864 to Spottiswoode's death in 1883 the original circle remained unbroken; the meetings "were steadily continued for some twenty years, before our ranks began to thin; and one by one, geistige Naturen such as those for which the poet so willingly paid the ferryman, silent but not unregarded, took the vacated places."

(Nimm dann Fuhrmann,
Nimm die Miethe
Die Ich gerne dreifach biete;
Zwei, die eben uberfuhren
Waren geistige Naturen.)

The peculiar constitution of the club scarcely seemed to admit of new members; not, at all events, without altering the unique relation of friendship joined to common experience of struggle and success which had lasted so long. After the death of Spottiswoode and Busk, and the ill-health of other members, the election of new members was indeed mooted, but the proposal was ultimately negatived. Huxley's opinion on this point appears from letters to Sir E. Frankland in 1886 and to Sir J.D. Hooker in 1888.]

As for the filling up the vacancies in the x, I am disposed to take Tyndall's view of the matter. Our little club had no very definite object beyond preventing a few men who were united by strong personal sympathies from drifting apart by the pressure of busy lives.

Nobody could have foreseen or expected twenty odd years ago when we first met, that we were destined to play the parts we have since played, and it is in the nature of things impossible that any of the new members proposed (much as we may like and respect them all), can carry on the work which has so strangely fallen to us.

An axe with a new head and a new handle may be the same axe in one sense, but it is not the familiar friend with which one has cut one's way through wood and brier.

[And in the other letter:—]

What with the lame dog condition of Tyndall and Hirst and Spencer and my own recurrent illnesses, the x is not satisfactory. But I don't see that much will come from putting new patches in. The x really has no raison d'etre beyond the personal attachment of its original members. Frankland told me of the names that had been mentioned, and none could be more personally welcome to me…but somehow or other they seem out of place in the x.

However, I am not going to stand out against the general wish, and I shall agree to anything that is desired.

[Again:—]

The club has never had any purpose except the purely personal object of bringing together a few friends who did not want to drift apart. It has happened that these cronies had developed into big-wigs of various kinds, and therefore the club has incidentally—I might say accidentally—had a good deal of influence in the scientific world. But if I had to propose to a man to join, and he were to say, Well, what is your object? I should have to reply like the needy knife-grinder, "Object, God bless you, sir, we've none to show."

[As he wrote elsewhere (loc. cit.):—]

Later on, there were attempts to add other members, which at last became wearisome, and had to be arrested by the agreement that no proposition of that kind should be entertained, unless the name of the new may be suggested contained all the consonants absent from the names of the old ones. In the lack of Slavonic friends this decision put an end to the possibility of increase.

[After the death, in February 1892, of Hirst, a most devoted supporter of the club, who "would, I believe, represent it in his sole person rather than pass the day over," only one more meeting took place, in the following month. With five of the six survivors domiciled far from town, meeting after meeting fell through, until the treasurer wrote, "My idea is that it is best to let it die out unobserved, and say nothing about its decease to anyone."

Thus it came to pass that the March meeting of the club in 1893 remained its last. No ceremony ushered it out of existence. Its end exemplified a saying of Sir J. Hooker's "At our ages clubs are an anachronism." It had met 240 times, yet, curious to say, although the average attendance up to 1883 was seven out of nine, the full strength of the club only met on twenty-seven occasions.