Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley — Volume 3

by Thomas Henry Huxley

CHAPTER 3.12.

1893.

[The year 1893 was, save for the death of three old friends, Andrew Clark, Jowett, and Tyndall, one of the most tranquil and peaceful in Huxley's whole life. He entered upon no direct controversy; he published no magazine articles; to the general misapprehension of the drift of his Romanes Lecture he only replied in the comprehensive form of Prolegomena to a reprint of the lecture. He began to publish his scattered essays in a uniform series, writing an introduction to each volume. While collecting his "Darwiniana" for the second volume, he wrote to Mr. Clodd:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, November 18, 1892.

I was looking through "Man's Place in Nature" the other day. I do not think there is a word I need delete, nor anything I need add except in confirmation and extension of the doctrine there laid down. That is great good fortune for a book thirty years old, and one that a very shrewd friend of mine implored me not to publish, as it would certainly ruin all my prospects. I said, like the French fox-hunter in "Punch", "I shall try."

[The shrewd friend in question was none other than Sir William Lawrence, whose own experiences after publishing his book "On Man", "which now might be read in a Sunday school without surprising anybody," are alluded to in volume 1.

He had the satisfaction of passing on his unfinished work upon Spirula to efficient hands for completion; and in the way of new occupation, was thinking of some day "taking up the threads of late evolutionary speculation" in the theories of Weismann and others [See letter of September 28, to Romanes.], while actually planning out and reading for a series of "Working-Men's Lectures on the Bible," in which he should present to the unlearned the results of scientific study of the documents, and do for theology what he had done for zoology thirty years before.

The scheme drawn out in his note-book runs as follows:—

1. The subject and the method of treating it.

2. Physical conditions:—the place of Palestine in the Old World.

3. The Rise of Israel:—Judges, Samuel, Kings as far as Jeroboam II.

4. The Fall of Israel.

5. The Rise and Progress of Judaism. Theocracy.

6. The Final Dispersion.

7. Prophetism.

8. Nazarenism.

9. Christianity.

10. Muhammedanism.

11 and 12. The Mythologies.

Although this scheme was never carried out, yet it was constantly before Huxley's mind during the two years left to him. If Death, who had come so near eight years before, would go on seeming to forget him, he meant to use these last days of his life in an effort to illuminate one more portion of the field of knowledge for the world at large.

As the physical strain of the Romanes Lecture and his liability to loss of voice warned him against any future attempt to deliver a course of lectures, he altered his design and prepared to put the substance of these Lectures to Working-Men into a Bible History for young people. And indeed, he had got so far with his preparation, that the latter heading was down in his list of work for the last year of his life, 1895. But nothing of it was ever written. Until the work was actually begun, even the framework upon which it was to be shaped remained in his mind, and the copious marks in his books of reference were the mere guide-posts to a strong memory, which retained not words and phrases, but salient facts and the knowledge of where to find them again.

I find only two occasions on which he wrote to the "Times" this year; one, when the crusade was begun to capture the Board Schools of London for sectarianism, and it was suggested that, when on the first School Board, he had approved of some such definite dogmatic teaching. This he set right at once in the following letter of April 28, with which may be compared the letter to Lord Farrer of November 6, 1894:—]

In a leading article of your issue to-day you state, with perfect accuracy, that I supported the arrangement respecting religious instruction agreed to by the London School Board in 1871, and hitherto undisturbed. But you go on to say that "the persons who framed the rule" intended it to include definite teaching of such theological dogmas as the Incarnation.

I cannot say what may have been in the minds of the framers of the rule; but, assuredly, if I had dreamed that any such interpretation could fairly be put upon it, I should have opposed the arrangement to the best of my ability.

In fact, a year before the rule was framed I wrote an article in the "Contemporary Review", entitled "The Board Schools—what they can do, and what they may do," in which I argued that the terms of the Education Act excluded such teaching as it is now proposed to include. And I supported my contention by the following citation from a speech delivered by Mr. Forster at the Birkbeck Institution in 1870:—

"I have the fullest confidence that in the reading and explaining of the Bible, what the children will be taught will be the great truths of Christian life and conduct, which all of us desire they should know, and that no effort will be made to cram into their poor little minds, theological dogmas which their tender age prevents them from understanding."

[The other was on a lighter, but equally perennial point of interest, being nothing less than the Sea Serpent. In the "Times" of January 11, he writes, that while there is no reason against a fifty-foot serpent existing as in Cretaceous seas, still the evidence for its existence is entirely inconclusive. He goes on to tell how a scientific friend's statement once almost convinced him until he read the quartermaster's deposition, which was supposed to corroborate it. The details made the circumstances alleged by the former impossible, and on pointing this out, he heard no more of the story, which was a good example of the mixing up of observations with conclusions drawn from them.

And on the following day he replies to another such detailed story:—]

Admiral Mellersh says, "I saw a huge snake, at least 18 feet long," and I have no doubt he believes he is simply stating a matter of fact. Yet his assertion involves a hypothesis of the truth of which I venture to be exceedingly doubtful. How does he know that what he saw was a snake? The neighbourhood of a creature of this kind, within axe-stroke, is hardly conducive to calm scientific investigation, and I can answer for it that the discrimination of genuine sea-snakes in their native element from long-bodied fish is not always easy. Further, that "back fin" troubles me; looks, if I may say so, very fishy.

If the caution about mixing up observations with conclusions, which I ventured to give yesterday, were better attended to, I think we should hear very little either about antiquated sea-serpents or new "mesmerism."

[It is perhaps not superfluous to point out that in this, as in other cases of the marvellous, he did not merely pooh-pooh a story on the ground of its antecedent improbability, but rested his acceptance or rejection of it upon the strength of the evidence adduced. On the other hand, the weakness of such evidence as was brought forward time after time, was a justification for refusing to spend his time in listening to similar stories based on similar testimony.

Among the many journalistic absurdities which fall in the way of celebrities, two which happened this year are worth recording; the one on account of its intrinsic extravagance, which succeeded nevertheless in taking in quite a number of sober folk; the other on account of the letter it drew from Huxley about his cat. The former appeared in the shape of a highly-spiced advertisement about certain Manx Mannikins, which could walk, draw, play, in fact do everything but speak—were living pets which might be kept by any one, and indeed Professor Huxley was the possessor of a remarkably fine pair of them. Apply, enclosing stamps etc. Of course, the wonderful mannikins were nothing more than the pair of hands which anybody could dress up according to the instructions of the advertiser; but it was astonishing how many estimable persons took them for some lusus naturae. A similar advertisement in 1880 had been equally successful, and one exalted personage wrote by the hand of a secretary to say what pleasure and interest had been excited by the description of these strange creatures, and begging Professor Huxley to state if the account was true. Accordingly on January 27 he writes to his wife, who was on a visit to her daughter:—]

Yesterday two ladies called to know if they could see the Manx Mannikins. I think of having a board put up to say that in the absence of the Proprietress the show is closed.

[The other incident was a request for any remarks which might be of use in an article upon the Home Pets of Celebrities. I give the letter written in answer to this, as well as descriptions of the same cat's goings-on in the absence of its mistress.]

To Mr. J.G. Kitton.

Hodeslea, April 12, 1893.

A long series of cats has reigned over my household for the last forty years, or thereabouts, but I am sorry to say that I have no pictorial or other record of their physical and moral excellences.

The present occupant of the throne is a large, young, grey Tabby—Oliver by name. Not that he is in any sense a protector, for I doubt whether he has the heart to kill a mouse. However, I saw him catch and eat the first butterfly of the season, and trust that this germ of courage, thus manifested, may develop with age into efficient mousing.

As to sagacity, I should say that his judgment respecting the warmest place and the softest cushion in a room is infallible—his punctuality at meal times is admirable; and his pertinacity in jumping on people's shoulders, till they give him some of the best of what is going, indicates great firmness.

[To his youngest daughter:—]

Hodeslea Eastbourne, January 8, 1893.

I wish you would write seriously to M—. She is not behaving well to Oliver. I have seen handsomer kittens, but few more lively, and energetically destructive. Just now he scratched away at something that M— says cost 13 shillings 6 pence a yard—and reduced more or less of it to combings.

M— therefore excludes him from the dining-room, and all those opportunities of higher education which he would naturally have in MY house.

I have argued that it is as immoral to place 13 shillings 6 pence a yard-nesses within reach of kittens as to hang bracelets and diamond rings in the front garden. But in vain. Oliver is banished—and the protector (not Oliver) is sat upon.

In truth and justice aid your Pa.

[This letter is embellished with fancy portraits of:—]

Oliver when most quiescent (tail up; ready for action).
O. as polisher (tearing at the table leg).
O. as plate basket investigator.
O. as gardener (destroying plants in a pot).
O. as stocking knitter (a wild tangle of cat and wool).
O. as political economist making good for trade at 13 shillings 6 pence
a yard (pulling at a hassock).

[The following to Sir John Evans refers to a piece of temporary forgetfulness.]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, March 19, 1893.

My dear Evans,

It is curious what a difference there is between intentions and acts, especially in the matter of sending cheques. The moment I saw the project of the Lawes and Gilbert testimonial in the "Times", I sent my contribution in imagination—and it is only the arrival of this circular which has waked me up to the necessity of supplementing my ideal cheque by the real one inclosed.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[Reference has been made to the writing of the Romanes Lecture in 1892. Mr. Gladstone had already consented to deliver the first lecture in that year; and early in the summer Professor Romanes sounded Huxley to find out whether he would undertake the second lecture for 1893. Huxley suggested a possible bar in his precarious health; but subject to this possibility, if the Vice-Chancellor did not regard it as a complete disability, was willing to accept a formal invitation.

Professor Romanes reassured him upon this point, and further begged him, if possible, to be ready to step into the breach if Mr. Gladstone should be prevented from lecturing in the following autumn. The situation became irresistible, and the second of the following letters to Mr. Romanes displays no more hesitation.]

To Professor Romanes.

Hodeslea, June 3, 1892.

I should have written to you yesterday, but the book did not arrive till this morning. Very many thanks for it. It looks appetising, and I look forward to the next course.

As to the Oxford lecture, "Verily, thou almost persuadest me," though I thought I had finished lecturing. I really should like to do it; but I have a scruple about accepting an engagement of this important kind, which I might not be able to fulfil.

I am astonishingly restored, and have not had a trace of heart trouble for months. But I am quite aware that I am, physically speaking, on good behaviour—and maintain my condition only by taking an amount of care which is very distasteful to me.

Furthermore, my wife's health is, I am sorry to say, extremely precarious. She was very ill a fortnight ago, and to my very great regret, as well as hers, we are obliged to give up our intended visit to Balliol to-morrow. She is quite unfit to travel, and I cannot leave her here alone for three days.

I think the state of affairs ought to be clear to the Vice-Chancellor. If, in his judgment, it constitutes no hindrance, and he does me the honour to send the invitation, I shall accept it.

To the same:—]

Hodeslea, June 7, 1892.

I am afraid that age hath not altogether cleared the spirit of mischief out of my blood; and there is something so piquant in the notion of my acting as substitute for Gladstone that I will be ready if necessity arises.

Of course I will keep absolutely clear of Theology. But I have long had fermenting in my head, some notions about the relations of Ethics and Evolution (or rather the absence of such as are commonly supposed), which I think will be interesting to such an audience as I may expect. "Without prejudice," as the lawyers say, that is the sort of topic that occurs to me.

[To the same:—]

Hodeslea, October 30, 1892.

I had to go to London in the middle of last week about the Gresham University business, and I trust I have put a very long nail into the coffin of that scheme. For which good service you will forgive my delay in replying to your letter. I read all about your show—why not call it "George's Gorgeous," tout court?

I should think that there is no living man, who, on such an occasion, could intend and contrive to say so much and so well (in form) without ever rising above the level of antiquarian gossip.

My lecture would have been ready if the G.O.M. had failed you, but I am very glad to have six months' respite, as I now shall be able to write and rewrite it to my heart's content.

I will follow the Gladstonian precedent touching cap and gown—but I trust the Vice-Chancellor will not ask me to take part in a "Church Parade" and read the lessons. I couldn't—really.

As to the financial part of the business, to tell you the honest truth, I would much rather not be paid at all for a piece of work of this kind. I am no more averse to turning an honest penny by my brains than any one else in the ordinary course of things—quite the contrary; but this is not an ordinary occasion. However, this is a pure matter of taste, and I do not want to set a precedent which might be inconvenient to other people—so I agree to what you propose.

By the way, is there any type-writer who is to be trusted in Oxford? Some time ago I sent a manuscript to a London type-writer, and to my great disgust I shortly afterwards saw an announcement that I was engaged on the topic.

[On the following day he writes to his wife, who was staying with her youngest daughter in town:—]

The Vice-Chancellor has written to me and I have fixed May—exact day by and by. Mrs. Romanes has written a crispy little letter to remind us of our promise to go there, and I have chirrupped back.

[The "chirrup" ran as follows:—]

Hodeslea, November 1, 1892.

My dear Mrs. Romanes,

I have just written to the Vice-Chancellor to say that I hope to be at his disposition any time next May.

My wife is "larking"—I am sorry to use such a word, but what she is pleased to tell me of her doings leaves me no alternative—in London, whither I go on Thursday to fetch her back—in chains, if necessary. But I know, in the matter of being "taken in and done for" by your hospitable selves, I may, for once, speak for her as well as myself.

Don't ask anybody above the rank of a younger son of a Peer—because I shall not be able to go in to dinner before him or her—and that part of my dignity is naturally what I prize most. Would you not like me to come in my P.C. suit? All ablaze with gold, and costing a sum with which I could buy, oh! so many books!

Only if your late experiences should prompt you to instruct your other guests not to contradict me—don't. I rather like it.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Bon Voyage! You can tell Mr. Jones [The hotel-keeper in Madeira.] that I will have him brought before the Privy Council and fined, as in the good old days, if he does not treat you properly.

[This letter was afterwards published in Mrs. Romanes' Life of her husband, and three letters on that occasion, and particularly that in which Huxley tried to guard her from any malicious interpretation of his jests, are to be found on page 332.

On the afternoon of May 18, 1893, he delivered at Oxford his Romanes Lecture, on "Evolution and Ethics," a study of the relation of ethical and evolutionary theory in the history of philosophy, the text of which is that while morality is necessarily a part of the order of nature, still the ethical principle is opposed to the self-regarding principle on which cosmic evolution has taken place. Society is a part of nature, but would be dissolved by a return to the natural state of simple warfare among individuals. It follows that ethical systems based on the principles of cosmic evolution are not logically sound. A study of the essays of the foregoing ten years will show that he had more than once enunciated this thesis, and it had been one of the grounds of his long-standing criticism of Mr. Spencer's system.

The essence of this criticism is given in portions of two letters to
Mr. F.J. Gould, who, when preparing a pamphlet on "Agnosticism writ
Plain" in 1889, wrote to inquire what was the dividing line between the
two Agnostic positions.]

As between Mr. Spencer and myself, the question is not one of "a dividing line," but of entire and complete divergence as soon as we leave the foundations laid by Hume, Kant, and Hamilton, who are MY philosophical forefathers. To my mind the "Absolute" philosophies were finally knocked on the head by Hamilton; and the "Unknowable" in Mr. Spencer's sense is merely the Absolute redivivus, a sort of ghost of an extinct philosophy, the name of a negation hocus-pocussed into a sham thing. If I am to talk about that of which I have no knowledge at all, I prefer the good old word "God", about which there is no scientific pretence.

To my mind Agnosticism is simply the critical attitude of the thinking faculty, and the definition of it should contain no dogmatic implications of any kind. I, for my part, do not know whether the problem of existence is insoluble or not; or whether the ultimate cause (if there be such a thing) is unknown or not. That of which I am certain is, that no satisfactory solution of this problem has been offered, and that, from the nature of the intellectual faculty, I am unable to conceive that such a solution will ever be found. But on that, as on all other questions, my mind is open to consider any new evidence that may be offered.

[And later:—]

I have long been aware of the manner in which my views have been confounded with those of Mr. Spencer, though no one was more fully aware of our divergence than the latter. Perhaps I have done wrongly in letting the thing slide so long, but I was anxious to avoid a breach with an old friend…

Whether the Unknowable or any other Noumenon exists or does not exist, I am quite clear I have no knowledge either way. So with respect to whether there is anything behind Force or not, I am ignorant; I neither affirm nor deny. The tendency to idolatry in the human mind is so strong that faute de mieux it falls down and worships negative abstractions, as much the creation of the mind as the stone idol of the hands. The one object of the Agnostic (in the true sense) is to knock this tendency on the head whenever or wherever it shows itself. Our physical science is full of it.

[Nevertheless, the doctrine seemed to take almost everybody by surprise. The drift of the lecture was equally misunderstood by critics of opposite camps. Huxley was popularly supposed to hold the same views as Mr. Spencer—for were they not both Evolutionists? On general attention being called to the existing difference between their views, some jumped to the conclusion that Huxley was offering a general recantation of evolution, others that he had discarded his former theories of ethics. On the one hand he was branded as a deserter from free thought; on the other, hailed almost as a convert to orthodoxy. It was irritating, but little more than he had expected. The conditions of the lecture forbade any reference to politics or religion; hence much had to be left unsaid, which was supplied next year in the Prolegomena prefacing the re-issue of the lecture.

After all possible trimming and compression, he still feared the lecture would be too long, and would take more than an hour to deliver, especially if the audience was likely to be large, for the numbers must be considered in reference to the speed of speaking. But he had taken even more pains than usual with it.] "The Lecture," [he writes to Professor Romanes on April 19], "has been in type for weeks, if not months, as I have been taking an immensity of trouble over it. And I can judge of nothing till it is in type." [But this very precaution led to unexpected complications. When the proposition to lecture was first made to him, he was not sent a copy of the statute ordering that publication in the first instance should lie with the University Press; and in view of the proviso that "the Lecturer is free to publish on his own behalf in any other form he may like," he had taken Professor Romanes' original reference to publication by the Press to be a subsidiary request to which he gladly assented. However, a satisfactory arrangement was speedily arrived at with the publishers; Huxley remarking:—]

All I have to say is, do not let the University be in any way a loser by the change. If the V.-C. thinks there is any risk of this, I will gladly add to what Macmillan pays. That matter can be settled between us.

[However, he had not forgotten the limitation of his subject in respect of religion and politics, and he repeatedly refers to his careful avoidance of these topics as an "egg-dance." And wishing to reassure Mr. Romanes on this head, he writes on April 22:—]

There is no allusion to politics in my lecture, nor to any religion except Buddhism, and only to the speculative and ethical side of that. If people apply anything I say about these matters to modern philosophies, except evolutionary speculation, and religions, that is not my affair. To be honest, however, unless I thought they would, I should never have taken all the pains I have bestowed on these 36 pages.

[But these words conjured up terrible possibilities, and Mr. Romanes wrote back in great alarm to ask the exact state of the case. The two following letters show that the alarm was groundless:—]

Hodeslea, April 26, 1893.

My dear Romanes,

I fear, or rather hope, that I have given you a very unnecessary scare.

You may be quite sure, I think, that, while I should have refused to give the lecture if any pledge of a special character had been proposed to me, I have felt very strongly bound to you to take the utmost care that no shadow of a just cause for offence should be given, even to the most orthodox of Dons.

It seems to me that the best thing I can do is to send you the lecture as it stands, notes and all. But please return it within two days at furthest, and consider it STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL between us two (I am not excluding Mrs. Romanes, if she cares to look at the paper). No consideration would induce me to give any ground for the notion that I had submitted the lecture to any one but yourself.

If there is any phrase in the lecture which you think likely to get you into trouble, out it shall come or be modified in form.

If the whole thing is too much for the Dons' nerves—I am no judge of their delicacy—I am quite ready to give up the lecture.

In fact I do not know whether I shall be able to make myself heard three weeks hence, as the influenza has left its mark in hoarseness and pain in the throat after speaking.

So you see if the thing is altogether too wicked there is an easy way out of it.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Hodeslea, April 28, 1893.

My dear Romanes,

My mind is made easy by such a handsome acquittal from you and the Lady
Abbess, your coadjutor in the Holy Office.

My wife, who is my inquisitor and confessor in ordinary, has gone over the lecture twice, without scenting a heresy, and if she and Mrs. Romanes fail—a fico for a mere male don's nose!

From the point of view of the complete argument, I agree with you about note 19. But the dangers of open collision with orthodoxy on the one hand and Spencer on the other, increased with the square of the enlargement of the final pages, and I was most anxious for giving no handle to any one who might like to say I had used the lecture for purposes of attack. Moreover, in spite of all reduction, the lecture is too long already.

But I think it not improbable that in spite of my meekness and peacefulness, neither the one side nor the other will let me alone. And then you see, I shall have an opportunity of making things plain, under no restriction. You will not be responsible for anything said in the second edition, nor can the Donniest of Dons grumble.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

The double negative is Shakspearian. See Hamlet, act 2 scene 2.

[Unfortunately for the entire success of the lecture, he was suffering from the results of influenza, more especially a loss of voice. He writes (April 18):—]

After getting through the winter successfully I have had the ill-fortune to be seized with influenza. I believe I must have got it from the microbes haunting some of the three hundred doctors at the Virchow dinner. [On the 16th March.]

I had next to no symptoms except debility, and though I am much better I cannot quite shake that off. As usual with me it affects my voice. I hope this will get right before this day month, but I expect I shall have to nurse it. I do not want to interfere with any of your hospitable plans, and I think if you will ensure me quiet on the morning of the 18th (I understand the lecture is in the afternoon) it will suffice. After the thing is over I am ready for anything from pitch and toss onwards.

[Two more letters dated before the 18th of May touch on the circumstances of the lecture. One is to his son-in-law, John Collier; the other to his old friend Tyndall, the last he ever wrote him, and containing a cheery reference to the advance of old age.]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, May 9, 1893.

My dear Jack,

…M— is better, and I am getting my voice back. But may St.
Ernulphus' curse descend on influenza microbes! They tried to work
their way out at my nose, and converted me into a disreputable Captain
Costigan-looking person ten days ago. Now they are working at my lips.

For the credit of the family I hope I shall be more reputable by the 18th.

I hope you will appreciate my dexterity. The lecture is a regular egg-dance. That I should discourse on Ethics to the University of Oxford and say all I want to say, without a word anybody can quarrel with, is decidedly the most piquant occurrence in my career…

Ever yours affectionately, Pater.

To Professor Tyndall.

P.S. to be read first.

Eastbourne, May 15, 1893.

My dear Tyndall,

There are not many apples (and those mostly of the crab sort) left upon the old tree, but I send you the product of the last shaking. Please keep it out of any hands but your wife's and yours till Thursday, when I am to "stand and deliver" it, if I have voice enough, which is doubtful. The sequelae of influenza in my case have been mostly pimples and procrastination, the former largely on my nose, so that I have been a spectacle. Besides these, loss of voice. The pimples are mostly gone and the procrastination is not much above normal, but what will happen when I try to fill the Sheldonian Theatre is very doubtful.

Who would have thought thirty-three years ago, when the great "Sammy" fight came off, that the next time I should speak at Oxford would be in succession to Gladstone, on "Evolution and Ethics" as an invited lecturer?

There was something so quaint about the affair that I really could not resist, though the wisdom of putting so much strain on my creaky timbers is very questionable. Mind you wish me well through it at 2.30 on Thursday.

I wish we could have better news of you. As to dying by inches, that is what we are all doing, my dear old fellow; the only thing is to establish a proper ratio between inch and time. Eight years ago I had good reason to say the same thing of myself, but my inch has lengthened out in a most extraordinary way. Still I confess we are getting older; and my dear wife has been greatly shaken by repeated attacks of violent pain which seizes her quite unexpectedly. I am always glad, both on her account and my own, to get back into the quiet and good air here as fast as possible, and in another year or two, if I live so long, I shall clear out of all engagements that take me away…

T.H. Huxley.

NOT TO BE ANSWERED, and you had better get Mrs. Tyndall to read it to you or you will say naughty words about the scrawl.

[Sanguine as he had resolved to be about the recovery of his voice, his fear lest "1000 out of the 2000 won't hear" was very near realisation. The Sheldonian Theatre was thronged before he appeared on the platform, a striking presence in his D.C.L. robes, and looking very leonine with his silvery gray hair sweeping back in one long wave from his forehead, and the rugged squareness of his features tempered by the benignity of an old age which has seen much and overcome much. He read the lecture from a printed copy, not venturing, as he would have liked, upon the severe task of speaking it from memory, considering its length and the importance of preserving the exact wording. He began in a somewhat low tone, nursing his voice for the second half of the discourse. From the more distant parts of the theatre came several cries of "speak up"; and after a time a rather disturbing migration of eager undergraduates began from the galleries to the body of the hall. The latter part was indeed more audible than the first; still a number of the audience were disappointed in hearing imperfectly. However, the lecture had a large sale; the first edition of 2000 was exhausted by the end of the month; and another 700 in the next ten days.

After leaving Oxford, and paying a pleasant visit to one of the Fannings (his wife's nephew) at Tew, Huxley intended to visit another of the family, Mrs. Crowder, in Lincolnshire, but on reaching London found himself dead beat, and had to retire to Eastbourne, whence he writes to Sir M. Foster and to Mr. Romanes.]

Hodeslea, May 26, 1893.

My dear Foster,

Your letter has been following me about. I had not got rid of my influenza at Oxford, so the exertion and the dinner parties together played the deuce with me.

We had got so far as the Great Northern Hotel on our way to some connections in Lincolnshire, when I had to give it up and retreat here to begin convalescing again.

I do not feel sure of coming to the Harvey affair after all. But if I do, it will be alone, and I think I had better accept the hospitality of the college; which will by no means be so jolly as Shelford, but probably more prudent, considering the necessity of dining out.

The fact is, my dear friend, I am getting old.

I am very sorry to hear you have been doing your influenza also. It's a beastly thing, as I have it, no symptoms except going flop.

Ever yours,

T.H. Huxley.

Nobody sees that the lecture is a very orthodox production on the text (if there is such a one), "Satan the Prince of this world."

I think the remnant of influenza microbes must have held a meeting in my corpus after the lecture, and resolved to reconquer the territory. But I mean to beat the brutes.

"I shall be interested," [he writes to Mr. Romanes,] "in the article on
the lecture. The papers have been asinine." This was an article which
Mr. Romanes had told him was about to appear in the "Oxford Magazine".
And on the 30th he writes again.]

Many thanks for the "Oxford Magazine". The writer of the article is about the only critic I have met with yet who understands my drift. My wife says it is a "sensible" article, but her classification is a very simple one—sensible articles are those that contain praise, "stupid" those that show insensibility to my merits!

Really I thought it very sensible, without regard to the plums in the pudding.

[But the criticism, "sensible" not merely in the humorous sense, which he most fully appreciated was that of Professor Seth, in a lecture entitled "Man and Nature." He wrote to him on October 27:—]

Dear Professor Seth,

A report of your lecture on "Man and Nature" has just reached me. Accept my cordial thanks for defending me, and still more for understanding me.

I really have been unable to understand what my critics have been dreaming of when they raise the objection that the ethical process being part of the cosmic process cannot be opposed to it.

They might as well say that artifice does not oppose nature, because it is part of nature in the broadest sense.

However, it is one of the conditions of the "Romanes Lecture" that no allusion shall be made to religion or politics. I had to make my omelette without breaking any of those eggs, and the task was not easy.

The prince of scientific expositors, Faraday, was once asked, "How much may a popular lecturer suppose his audience knows?" He replied emphatically, "NOTHING." Mine was not exactly a popular audience, but I ought not to have forgotten Faraday's rule.

Yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[A letter of congratulation to Lord Farrer on his elevation to the peerage contains an ironical reference to the general tone of the criticisms on his lecture:—]

Hodeslea, June 5, 1893.

CI DEVANT CITOYEN PETION (autrefois le vertueux),

You have lost all chance of leading the forces of the County Council to the attack of the Horse-Guards.

You will become an emigre, and John Burns will have to content himself with the heads of the likes of me. As the Jacobins said of Lavoisier, the Republic has no need of men of science.

But this prospect need not interfere with sending our hearty congratulations to Lady Farrer and yourself.

As for your criticisms, don't you know that I am become a reactionary and secret friend of the clerics?

My lecture is really an effort to put the Christian doctrine that Satan is the Prince of this world upon a scientific foundation.

Just consider it in this light, and you will understand why I was so warmly welcomed in Oxford. (N.B.—The only time I spoke before was in 1860, when the great row with Samuel came off!!)

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, July 15, 1893.

My dear Skelton,

I fear I must admit that even a Gladstonian paper occasionally tells the truth. They never mean to, but we all have our lapses from the rule of life we have laid down for ourselves, and must be charitable.

The fact is, I got influenza in the spring, and have never managed to shake right again, any tendency that way being well counteracted by the Romanes lecture and its accompaniments.

So we are off to the Maloja to-morrow. It mended up the shaky old heart-pump five years ago, and I hope will again.

I have been in Orkney, and believe in the air, but I cannot say quite so much for the scenery. I thought it just a wee little bit, shall I say, bare? But then I have a passion for mountains.

I shall be right glad to know what your H.O.M. [The "Old Man of Hoy," a pseudonym under which Sir J. Skelton wrote.] has to say about Ethics and Evolution. You must remember that my lecture was a kind of egg-dance. Good manners bound me over to say nothing offensive to the Christians in the amphitheatre (I was in the arena), and truthfulness, on the other hand, bound me to say nothing that I did not fully mean. Under these circumstances one has to leave a great many i's undotted and t's uncrossed.

Pray remember me very kindly to Mrs. Skelton, and believe me,

Yours ever,

T.H. Huxley.

[And again on October 17:—]

Ask your Old Man of Hoy to be so good as to suspend judgment until the Lecture appears again with an appendix in that collection of volumes the bulk of which appals me.

Didn't I see somewhere that you had been made Poor Law pope, or something of the sort? I congratulate the poor more than I do you, for it must be a weary business trying to mend the irremediable. (No, I am NOT glancing at the whitewashing of Mary.)

[Here may be added two later letters bearing in part upon the same subject:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, March 23, 1894.

Dear Sir,

I ought to have thanked you before now for your letter about Nietzsche's works, but I have not much working time, and I find letter-writing a burden, which I am always trying to shirk.

I will look up Nietzsche, though I must confess that the profit I obtain from German authors on speculative questions is not usually great.

As men of research in positive science they are magnificently laborious and accurate. But most of them have no notion of style, and seem to compose their books with a pitchfork.

There are two very different questions which people fail to discriminate. One is whether evolution accounts for morality, the other whether the principle of evolution in general can be adopted as an ethical principle.

The first, of course, I advocate, and have constantly insisted upon. The second I deny, and reject all so-called evolutional ethics based upon it.

I am yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Thomas Common, Esq.

Hodeslea, August 31, 1894.

Dear Professor Seth,

I have come to a stop in the issue of my essays for the present, and I venture to ask your acceptance of the set which I have desired my publishers to send you.

I hope that at present you are away somewhere, reading novels or otherwise idling, in whatever may be your pet fashion.

But some day I want you to read the "Prolegomena" to the reprinted
Romanes Lecture.

Lately I have been re-reading Spinoza (much read and little understood in my youth).

But that noblest of Jews must have planted no end of germs in my brains, for I see that what I have to say is in principle what he had to say, in modern language.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[The following letters with reference to the long unfinished memoir on "Spirula" for the "Challenger" reports tell their own story. Huxley was very glad to find some competent person to finish the work which his illness had incapacitated him from completing himself. It had been a burden on his conscience; and now he gladly put all his plates and experience at the disposal of Professor Pelseneer, though he had nothing written and would not write anything. He had no wish to claim even joint authorship for the completed paper; when the question was first raised, he desired merely that it should be stated that such and such drawings were made by him; but when Professor Pelseneer insisted that both names should appear as joint authors, he consented to this solution of the question.]

Hodeslea, September 17, 1893.

Dear Mr. Murray [Now K.C.B. Director of the "Reports of the
'Challenger'.">[,

If the plates of Spirula could be turned to account a great burthen would be taken off my mind.

Professor Pelseneer is every way competent to do justice to the subject; and he has just what I needed, namely another specimen to check and complete the work; and besides that, the physical capacity for dissection and close observation, of which I have had nothing left since my long illness.

Will you be so good as to tell Professor Pelseneer that I shall be glad to place the plates at his disposal and to give him all the explanations I can of the drawings, whenever it may suit his convenience to take up the work?

Nothing beyond mere fragments remained of the specimen.

I am, yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

I return Pelseneer's letter.

Hodeslea, September 30, 1893.

Dear Professor Pelseneer,

I send herewith (by this post) a full explanation of the plates of Spirula (including those of which you have unlettered copies). I trust you will not be too much embarrassed by my bad handwriting, which is a plague to myself as well as to other people.

My hope is that you will be good enough to consider these figures as materials placed in your hands, to be made useful in the memoir on Spirula, which I trust you will draw up, supplying the defects of my work and checking its accuracy.

You will observe that a great deal remains to be done. The muscular system is untouched; the structure and nature of the terminal circumvallate papilla have to be made out; the lingual teeth must be re-examined; and the characters of the male determined. If I recollect rightly, Owen published something about the last point.

If I can be of any service to you in any questions that arise, I shall be very glad; but as I am putting the trouble of the work on your shoulders, I wish you to have the credit of it.

So far as I am concerned, all that is needful is to say that such and such drawings were made by me.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Hodeslea, October 12, 1893.

Dear Professor Pelseneer,

I am very glad to hear from you that the homology of the cephalopod arms with the gasteropod foot is now generally admitted. When I advocated that opinion in my memoir on the "Morphology of the Cephalous Mollusca," some forty years ago, it was thought a great heresy.

As to publication; I am quite willing to agree to whatever arrangement you think desirable, so long as you are kind enough to take all trouble (but that of "consulting physician") off my shoulders. Perhaps putting both names to the memoir, as you suggest, will be the best way. I cannot undertake to write anything, but if you think I can be of any use as an adviser or critic, do not hesitate to demand my services.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[Although in February he had stayed several days in town with the Donnellys, who "take as much care of me as if I were a piece of old china," and had attended a levee and a meeting of his London University Association, had listened with interest to a lecture of Professor Dewar, who "made liquid oxygen by the pint," and dined at Marlborough House, the influenza had prevented him during the spring from fulfilling several engagements in London; but after his return from Oxford he began to recruit in the fine weather, and found delightful occupation in putting up a rockery in the garden for his pet Alpine plants.

In mid June he writes to his wife, then on a visit to one of her daughters:—]

What a little goose you are to go having bad dreams about me—who am like a stalled ox—browsing in idle comfort—in fact, idle is no word for it. Sloth is the right epithet. I can't get myself to do anything but potter in the garden, which is looking lovely.

On June 21 he went to Cambridge for the Harvey Celebration at Gonville and Caius College, and made a short speech.]

The dinner last night [he writes] was a long affair, and I was the last speaker; but I got through my speech very well, and was heard by everybody, I am told.

[But as is the way with influenza, it was thrown off in the summer only to return the next winter, and on the eve of the Royal Society Anniversary Dinner he writes to Sir M. Foster:—]

I am in rather a shaky and voiceless condition, and unless I am more up to the mark to-morrow morning I shall have to forgo the dinner, and, what is worse, the chat with you afterwards.

[One consequence of the spring attack of influenza was that this year he went once more to the Maloja, staying there from July 21 to August 25.]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, July 9, 1893.

My dear Hooker,

What has happened to the x meeting you proposed? However, it does not matter much to me now, as Hames, who gave me a thorough overhauling in London, has packed me off to the Maloja again, and we start, if we can, on the 17th.

It is a great nuisance, but the dregs of influenza and the hot weather between them have brought the weakness of my heart to the front, and I am gravitating to the condition in which I was five or six years ago. So I must try the remedy which was so effectual last time.

We are neither of us very fit, and shall have to be taken charge of by a courier. Fancy coming to that!

Let me be a warning to you, my dear old man. Don't go giving lectures at Oxford and making speeches at Cambridge, and above all things don't, oh don't go getting influenza, the microbes of which would be seen under a strong enough microscope to have this form.

[Sketch of an active little black demon.]

T.H. Huxley.

[Though not so strikingly as before, the high Alpine air was again a wonderful tonic to him. His diary still contains a note of occasional long walks; and once more he was the centre of a circle of friends, whose cordial recollections of their pleasant intercourse afterwards found expression in a lasting memorial. Beside one of his favourite walks, a narrow pathway skirting the blue lakelet of Sils, was placed a gray block of granite. The face of this was roughly smoothed, and upon it was cut the following inscription:—

In memory of the illustrious English Writer and Naturalist, Thomas
Henry Huxley, who spent many summers at the Kursaal, Maloja.

In a letter to Sir J. Hooker, of October 1, he describes the effects of his trip, and his own surprise at being asked to write a critical account of Owen's work:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, October 1, 1893.

My dear Hooker,

I am no better than a Gadarene swine for not writing to you from the Maloja, but I was too procrastinatingly lazy to expend even that amount of energy. I found I could walk as well as ever, but unless I was walking I was everlastingly seedy, and the wife was unwell almost all the time. I am inclined to think that it is coming home which is the most beneficial part of going abroad, for I am remarkably well now, and my wife is very much better.

I trust the impaled and injudicious Richard [Sir J. Hooker's youngest son, who had managed to spike himself on a fence.] is none the worse. It is wonderful what boys go through (also what goes through them).

You will get all the volumes of my screeds. I was horrified to find what a lot of stuff there was—but don't acknowledge them unless the spirit moves you…I think that on Natural Inequality of Man will be to your taste.

Three, or thirty, guesses and you shall not guess what I am about to tell you.

Reverend Richard Owen has written to me to ask me to write a concluding chapter for the biography of his grandfather—containing a "critical" estimate of him and his work!!! Says he is moved thereto by my speech at the meeting for a memorial.

There seemed nothing for me to do but to accept as far as the scientific work goes. I declined any personal estimate on the ground that we had met in private society half a dozen times.

If you don't mind being bothered I should like to send you what I write and have your opinion about it.

You see Jowett is going or gone. I am very sorry we were obliged to give up our annual visit to him this year. But I was quite unable to stand the exertion, even if Hames had not packed me off. How one's old friends are dropping!

Romanes gave me a pitiable account of himself in a letter the other day. He has had an attack of hemiplegic paralysis, and tells me he is a mere wreck. That means that the worst anticipations of his case are being verified. It is lamentable.

Take care of yourself, my dear old friend, and with our love to you both, believe me, ever yours,

T.H. Huxley.

[Not long after his return he received a letter from a certain G— S—, who wrote from Southampton detailing a number of observations he had made upon the organisms to be seen with a magnifying glass in an infusion of vegetable matter, and as "an ignoramus," apologised for any appearance of conceit in so doing, while asking his advice as to the best means of improving his scientific knowledge. Huxley was much struck by the tone of the letter and the description of the experiments, and he wrote back:—]

Hodeslea, November 9, 1893.

Sir,

We are all "ignoramuses" more or less—and cannot reproach one another. If there were any sign of conceit in your letter, you would not get this reply.

On the contrary, it pleases me. Your observations are quite accurate and clearly described—and to be accurate in observation and clear in description is the first step towards good scientific work.

You are seeing just what the first workers with the microscope saw a couple of centuries ago.

Get some such book as Carpenter's "On the Microscope" and you will see what it all means.

Are there no science classes in Southampton? There used to be, and I suppose is, a Hartley Institute.

If you want to consult books you cannot otherwise obtain, take this to the librarian, give him my compliments, and say I should be very much obliged if he would help you.

I am, yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[Great was Huxley's astonishment when he learned in reply that his correspondent was a casual dock labourer, and had but scanty hours of leisure in which to read and think and seek into the recesses of nature, while his means of observation consisted of a toy microscope bought for a shilling at a fair. Casting about for some means of lending the man a helping hand, he bethought him of the Science and Art Department, and wrote on December 30 to Sir J. Donnelly:—]

The Department has feelers all over England—has it any at Southampton? And if it has, could it find out something about the writer of the letters I enclose? For a "casual docker" they are remarkable; and I think when you have read them you will not mind my bothering you with them. (I really have had the grace to hesitate.)

I have been puzzled what to do for the man. It is so much easier to do harm than good by meddling—and yet I don't like to leave him to "casual docking."

In that first letter he has got—on his own hook—about as far as
Buffon and Needham 150 years ago.

And later to Professor Howes:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, February 12, 1894.

My dear Howes,

Best thanks for unearthing the volumes of Milne-Edwards. I was afraid my set was spoiled.

I shall be still more obliged to you if you can hear of something for S—. There is a right good parson in his neighbourhood, and from what he tells me about S— I am confirmed in my opinion that he is a very exceptional man, who ought to be at something better than porter's work for twelve hours a day.

The mischief is that one never knows how transplanting a tree, much less a man, will answer. Playing Providence is a game at which one is very apt to burn one's fingers.

However, I am going to try, and hope at any rate to do no harm to the man I want to help.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[He was eventually offered more congenial occupation at the Natural History Museum in South Kensington, but preferred not to enter into the bonds of an unaccustomed office.

Meanwhile, through Sir John Donnelly, Huxley was placed in communication with the Reverend Montague Powell, who, at his request, called upon the docker; and finding him a man who had read and thought to an astonishing extent upon scientific problems, and had a considerable acquaintance with English literature, soon took more than a vicarious interest in him. Mr. Powell, who kept Huxley informed of his talks and correspondence with G.S., gives a full account of the circumstances in a letter to the "Spectator" of July 13, 1895, from which I quote the following words:—

The Professor's object in writing was to ask me how best such a man could be helped, I being at his special request the intermediary. So I suggested in the meanwhile a microscope and a few scientific books. In the course of a few days I received a splendid achromatic compound microscope and some books, which I duly handed over to my friend, telling him it was from an unknown hand. "Ah," he said, "I know who that must be; it can be no other than the greatest of living scientists; it is just like him to help a tyro."

One small incident of this affair is perhaps worth preserving as an example of Huxley's love of a bantering repartee. In the midst of the correspondence Mr. Powell seems suddenly to have been seized by an uneasy recollection that Huxley had lately received some honour or title, so he next addressed him as "My dear Sir Thomas." The latter, not to be outdone, promptly replied with] "My dear Lord Bishop of the Solent."

[About the same time comes a letter to Mr. Knowles, based upon a paragraph from the gossiping column of some newspaper which had come into Huxley's hands:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, November 9, 1893.

Gossip of the Town.

"Professor Huxley receives 200 guineas for each of his articles for the
'Nineteenth Century'."

My dear Knowles,

I have always been satisfied with the "Nineteenth Century" in the capacity of paymaster, but I did not know how much reason I had for my satisfaction till I read the above!

Totting up the number of articles and multiplying by 200 it strikes me I shall be behaving very handsomely if I take 2000 pounds for the balance due.

So sit down quickly, take thy cheque-book, and write five score, and let me have it at breakfast time to-morrow. I once got a cheque for 1000 pounds at breakfast, and it ruined me morally. I have always been looking out for another.

I hope you are all flourishing. We are the better for Maloja, but more dependent on change of weather and other trifles than could be wished. Yet I find myself outlasting those who started in life along with me. Poor Andrew Clark and I were at Haslar together in 1846, and he was the younger by a year and a half.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

All my time is spent in the co-ordination of my eruptions when I am an active volcano.

I hope you got the volumes which I told Macmillan to send you.

[The following letter to Professor Romanes, whose failing eyesight was a premonitory symptom of the disease which proved fatal the next year, reads, so to say, as a solemn prelude to the death of three old friends this autumn—of Andrew Clark, his old comrade at Haslar, and cheery physician for many years; of Benjamin Jowett, Master of Balliol, whose acquaintance he had first made in 1851 at the Stanleys' at Harrow, and with whom he kept up an intimacy to the end of his life, visiting Balliol once or twice every year; and, heaviest blow, of John Tyndall, the friend and comrade whose genial warmth of spirit made him almost claim a brother's place in early struggles and later success, and whose sudden death was all the more poignant for the cruel touch of tragedy in the manner of it.]

Hodeslea, September 28, 1893.

My dear Romanes,

We are very much grieved to hear such a bad account of your health. Would that we could achieve something more to the purpose than assuring you and Mrs. Romanes of our hearty sympathy with you both in your troubles. I assure you, you are much in our thoughts, which are sad enough with the news of Jowett's, I fear, fatal attack.

I am almost ashamed to be well and tolerably active when young and old friends are being thus prostrated.

However, you have youth on your side, so do not give up, and wearisome as doing nothing may be, persist in it as the best of medicines.

At my time of life one should be always ready to stand at attention when the order to march comes; but for the rest I think it well to go on doing what I can, as if F. M. General Death had forgotten me. That must account for my seeming presumption in thinking I may some day "take up the threads" of late evolutionary speculation.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

My wife joins with me in love and kind wishes to you both.

[At the request of his friends, Huxley wrote for the "Nineteenth Century" a brief appreciation of his old comrade Tyndall—the tribute of a friend to a friend—and, difficult task though it was, touched on the closing scene, if only from a chivalrous desire to do justice to the long devotion which accident had so cruelly wronged:—]

I am comforted [he writes to Sir J. Hooker on January 3] by your liking the Tyndall article. You are quite right, I shivered over the episode of the "last words," but it struck me as the best way of getting justice done to her, so I took a header. I am glad to see by the newspaper comments that it does not seem to have shocked other people's sense of decency.

[The funeral took place on Saturday, December 9. There was no storm nor fog to make the graveside perilous for the survivors. In the Haslemere churchyard the winter sun shone its brightest, and the moorland air was crisp with an almost Alpine freshness as this lover of the mountains was carried to his last resting-place. But though he took no outward harm from that bright still morning, Huxley was greatly shaken by the event]: "I was very much used up," [he writes to Sir M. Foster on his return home two days later], "to my shame be it said, far more than my wife"; [and on December 30 to Sir John Donnelly:—]

Your kind letter deserved better than to have been left all this time without response, but the fact is, I came to grief the day after Christmas Day (no, we did NOT indulge in too much champagne). Lost my voice, and collapsed generally, without any particular reason, so I went to bed and stayed there as long as I could stand it, and now I am picking up again. The fact is, I suppose I had been running up a little account over poor old Tyndall. One does not stand that sort of wear and tear so well as one gets ancient.

[On the same day he writes to Sir J.D. Hooker:—]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, December 30, 1893.

My dear Hooker,

You gave the geographers some uncommonly sane advice. I observe that the words about the "stupendous ice-clad mountains" you saw were hardly out of your mouth when — coolly asserts that the Antarctic continent is a table-land! "comparatively level country." It really is wrong that men should be allowed to go about loose who fill you with such a strong desire to kick them as that little man does.

I send herewith a spare copy of "Nineteenth" with my paper about Tyndall. It is not exactly what I could wish, as I was hurried over it, and knocked up into the bargain, but I have tried to give a fair view of him. Tell me what you think of it.

I have been having a day or two on the sick list. Nothing discernible the matter, only flopped, as I did in the spring. However, I am picking up again. The fact is, I have never any blood pressure to spare, and a small thing humbugs the pump.

However, I have some kicks left in me, vide the preface to the fourth volume of Essays; ditto Number 5 when that appears in February.

Now, my dear old friend, take care of yourself in the coming year '94. I'll stand by you as long as the fates will let me, and you must be equally "Johnnie." With our love to Lady Hooker and yourself.

Ever yours affectionately,

T.H. Huxley.