CHAPTER 3.2.
1887.
[On the last day of July he left England for Switzerland, and did not return till the end of September. A second visit to Arolla worked a great change in him. He renewed his Gentian studies also, with unflagging ardour. The following letters give some idea of his doings and interests:—]
Hotel du Mont Collon, Arolla, Switzerland, August 28, 1887.
My dear Foster,
I know you will be glad to hear that I consider myself completely set up again. We went to the Maderaner Thal and stayed a week there. But I got no good out of it. It is charmingly pretty, but damp; and, moreover, the hotel was 50 per cent too full of people, mainly Deutschers, and we had to turn out into the open air after dinner because the salon and fumoir were full of beds. So, in spite of all prudential considerations, I made up my mind to come here. We travelled over the Furca, and had a capital journey to Evolena. Thence I came on muleback (to my great disgust, but I could not walk a bit uphill) here. I began to get better at once; and in spite of a heavy snowfall and arctic weather a week ago, I have done nothing but mend. We have glorious weather now, and I can take almost as long walks as last year.
We have some Cambridge people here: Dr. Peile of Christ's and his family. Also Nettleship of Oxford. What is the myth about the Darwin tree in the "Pall Mall"? ["A tree planted yesterday in the centre of the circular grass plot in the first court of Christ's College, in Darwin's honour, was 'spirited' away at night."—"Pall Mall Gazette" August 23, 1887.] Dr. Peile believes it to be all a flam.
Forel has just been paying a visit to the Arolla glacier for the purpose of ascertaining the internal temperature. He told me he much desired to have a copy of the Report of the Krakatoa Committee. If it is published, will you have a copy sent to him? He is Professor at Lausanne, and a very good man.
Our stay here will depend on the weather. At present it is perfect. I do not suppose we shall leave before 7th or 8th of September, and we shall get home by easy stages not much before the end of the month.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Madder than ever on Gentians.
[The following is in reply to Sir E. Frankland's inquiries with reference to the reported presence of fish in the reservoirs of one of the water-companies.]
Hotel Righi Vaudois, Glion, September 16, 1887.
We left Arolla about ten days ago, and after staying a day at St. Maurice in consequence of my wife's indisposition, came on here where your letter just received has followed me. I am happy to say I am quite set up again, and as I can manage my 1500 or 2000 feet as well as ever, I may be pretty clear that my pleurisy has not left my lung sticking anywhere.
I will take your inquiries seriatim. (1) The faith of your small boyhood is justified. Eels do wander overland, especially in the wet stormy nights they prefer for migration. But so far as I know this is the habit only of good-sized, downwardly-moving eels. I am not aware that the minute fry take to the land on their journey upwards.
(2) Male eels are now well known. I have gone over the evidence myself and examined many. But the reproductive organs of both sexes remain undeveloped in fresh water—just the contrary of salmon, in which they remain undeveloped in salt water.
(3) So far as I know, no eel with fully-developed reproductive organs has yet been seen. Their matrimonial operations go on in the sea where they spend their honeymoon, and we only know the result in the shape of the myriads of thread-like eel-lets, which migrate up in the well-known "eel-fare."
(4) On general principles of eel-life I think it is possible that the Inspector's theory MAY be correct. But your story about the roach is a poser. They certainly do not take to walking abroad. It reminds me of the story of the Irish milk-woman who was confronted with a stickleback found in the milk. "Sure, then, it must have been bad for the poor cow when that came through her teat."
Surely the Inspector cannot have overlooked such a crucial fact as the presence of other fish in the reservoirs?
We shall be here another week, and then move slowly back to London. I am loth to leave this place, which is very beautiful with splendid air and charming walks in all directions—two or three thousand feet up if you like.
Hotel Righi Vaudois, Glion, Switzerland, September 16, 1887.
My dear Donnelly,
We left Arolla for this place ten days ago, but my wife fell ill, and we had to stay a day at St. Maurice. She has been more or less out of sorts ever since until to-day. However, I hope now she is all right again.
This is a very charming place at the east end of the Lake of Geneva—1500 feet above the lake—and you can walk 3000 feet higher up if you like.
What they call a "funicular railway" hauls you up a gradient of 1 in 1 3/4 from the station on the shore in ten minutes. At first the sensation on looking down is queer, but you soon think nothing of it. The air is very fine, the weather lovely, the feeding unexceptionable, and the only drawback consists in the "javelins," as old Francis Head used to call them—stinks of such wonderful crusted flavour that they must have been many years in bottle. But this is a speciality of all furrin parts that I have ever visited.
I am very well and extremely lazy so far as my head goes—legs I am willing to use to any extent up hill or down dale. They wanted me to go and speechify at Keighley in the middle of October, but I could not get permission from the authorities. Moreover, I really mean to keep quiet and abstain even from good words (few or many) next session. My wife joins with me in love to Mrs. Donnelly and yourself.
She thought she had written, but doubts whether in the multitude of her letters she did not forget.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[From Glion also he writes to Sir M. Foster:—]
I have been doing some very good work on the Gentians in the interests of the business of being idle.
[The same subject recurs in the next letter:—]
Hotel Righi Vaudois, Glion, Switzerland, September 21, 1887.
My dear Hooker,
I saw in the "Times" yesterday the announcement of Mr. Symond's death. I suppose the deliverance from so painful a malady as heart-disease is hardly to be lamented in one sense; but these increasing gaps in one's intimate circle are very saddening, and we feel for Lady Hooker and you. My wife has been greatly depressed in hearing of Mrs. Carpenter's fatal disorder. One cannot go away for a few weeks without finding some one gone on one's return.
I got no good at the Maderaner Thal, so we migrated to our old quarters at Arolla, and there I picked up in no time, and in a fortnight could walk as well as ever. So if there are any adhesions they are pretty well stretched by this time.
I have been at the Gentians again, and worked out the development of the flower in G. purpurea and G. campestris. The results are very pretty. They both start from a thalamifloral condition, then become corollifloral, G. purpurea at first resembling G. lutea and G. campestris, an Ophelia, and then specialise to the Ptychantha and Stephanantha forms respectively.
In G. campestris there is another very curious thing. The anthers are at first introrse, but just before the bud opens they assume this position [sketch] and then turn right over and become extrorse. In G. purpurea this does not happen, but the anthers are made to open outwards by their union on the inner side of the slits of dehiscence.
There are several other curious bits of morphology have turned up, but
I reserve them for our meeting.
Beyond pottering away at my Gentians and doing a little with that extraordinary Cynanchum I have been splendidly idle. After three weeks of the ascetic life of Arolla, we came here to acclimatise ourselves to lower levels and to fatten up. I go straight through the table d'hote at each meal, and know not indigestion.
My wife has fared not so well, but she is all right again now. We go home by easy stages, and expect to be in Marlborough Place on Tuesday.
With all our best wishes to Lady Hooker and yourself.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[The second visit to Arolla did as much good as the first. Though unable to stay more than a week or two in London itself, he was greatly invigorated. His renewed strength enabled him to carry out vigorously such work as he had put his hand to, and still more, to endure one of the greatest sorrows of his whole life which was to befall him this autumn in the death of his daughter Marian.
The controversy which fell to his share immediately upon his return, has already been mentioned. This was all part of the war for science which he took as his necessary portion in life; but he would not plunge into any other forms of controversy, however interesting. So he writes to his son, who had conveyed him a message from the editor of a political review:—]
4 Marlborough Place, October 19, 1887.
No political article from me! I have had to blow off my indignation incidentally now and then lest worse might befall me, but as to serious political controversy, I have other fish to fry. Such influence as I possess may be most usefully employed in promoting various educational movements now afoot, and I do not want to bar myself from working with men of all political parties.
So excuse me in the prettiest language at your command to Mr. A.
[Nevertheless politics very soon drew him into a new conflict, in defence, be it said, of science against the possible contamination of political influences. Professor (now Sir) G.G. Stokes, his successor in the chair of the Royal Society, accepted an invitation from the University of Cambridge to stand for election as their member of Parliament, and was duly elected. This was a step to which many Fellows of the Royal Society, and Huxley in especial, objected very strongly. Properly to fulfil the duties of both offices at once was, in his opinion, impossible. It might seem for the moment an advantage that the accredited head of the scientific world should represent its interests officially in Parliament; but the precedent was full of danger. Science being essentially of no party, it was especially needful for such a representative of science to keep free from all possible entanglements; to avoid committing science, as it were, officially to the policy of a party, or, as its inevitable consequence, introducing political considerations into the choice of a future President.
During his own tenure of the Presidency Huxley had carefully abstained from any official connection with societies are public movements on which the feeling of the Royal Society was divided, lest as a body it might seem committed by the person and name of its President. He thought it a mistake that his successor should even be President of the Victoria Institute.
Thus there is a good deal in his correspondence bearing on this matter.
He writes on November 6 to Sir J. Hooker:—]
I am extremely exercised in my mind about Stokes' going into Parliament (as a strong party man, moreover) while still P.R.S. I do not know what you may think about it, but to my mind it is utterly wrong—and degrading to the Society—by introducing politics into its affairs.
[And on the same day to Sir M. Foster:—]
I think it is extremely improper for the President of the Royal Society to accept a position as a party politician. As a Unionist I should vote for him if I had a vote for Cambridge University, but for all that I think it is most lamentable that the President of the Society should be dragged into party mud.
When I was President I refused to take the Presidency of the Sunday League, because of the division of opinion on the subject. Now we are being connected with the Victoria Institute, and sucked into the slough of politics.
[These considerations weighed heavily with several both of the older and the younger members of the Society; but the majority were indifferent to the dangers of the precedent. The Council could not discuss the matter; they waited in vain for an official announcement of his election from the President, while he, as it turned out, expected them to broach the subject.
Various proposals were discussed; but it seemed best that, as a preliminary to further action, an editorial article written by Huxley should be inserted in "Nature," indicating what was felt by a section of the Society, and suggesting that resignation of one of the two offices was the right solution of the difficulty.
Finally, it seemed that perhaps, after all, a] "masterly inactivity" [was the best line of action. Without risk of an authoritative decision of the Society] "the wrong way," [out of personal regard for the President, the question would be solved for him by actual experience of work in the House of Commons, where he would doubtless discover that he must] "renounce either science, or politics, or existence."
This campaign, however, against a principle, was carried on without any personal feeling. The perfect simplicity of the President's attitude would have disarmed the hottest opponent, and indeed Huxley took occasion to write him the following letter, in reference to which he writes to Dr. Foster:—] "I hate doing things in the dark and could not stand it any longer."
December 1, 1887.
My dear Stokes,
When we met in the hall of the Athenaeum on Monday evening I was on the point of speaking to you on a somewhat delicate topic; namely, my responsibility for the leading article on the Presidency of the Royal Society and politics which appeared a fortnight ago in "Nature." But I was restrained by the reflection that I had no right to say anything about the matter without the consent of the Editor of "Nature." I have obtained that consent, and I take the earliest opportunity of availing myself of my freedom.
I should have greatly preferred to sign the article, and its anonymity is due to nothing but my strong desire to avoid the introduction of any personal irrelevancies into the discussion of a very grave question of principle.
I may add that as you are quite certain to vote in the way that I think right on the only political questions which greatly interest me, my action has not been, and cannot be, in any way affected by political feeling.
And as there is no one of whom I have a higher opinion as a man of science—no one whom I should be more glad to serve under, and to support year after year in the Chair of the Society, and no one for whom I entertain feelings of more sincere friendship—-I trust you will believe that, if there is a word in the article which appears inconsistent with these feelings, it is there by oversight, and is sincerely regretted.
During the thirty odd years we have known one another, we have often had stout battles without loss of mutual kindness. My chief object in troubling you with this letter is to express the hope that, whatever happens, this state of things may continue.
I am, yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
P.S.—I am still of opinion that it is better that my authorship should not be officially recognised, but you are, of course, free to use the information I have given you in any way you may think fit.
[To this the President returned a very frank and friendly reply; saying he had never dreamed of any incompatibility existing between the two offices, and urging that the Presidency ought not to constrain a man to give up his ordinary duties as a citizen. He concludes:—
And now I have stated my case as it appears to myself; let me assure you that nothing that has passed tends at all to diminish my friendship towards you. My wife heard last night that the article was yours, and told me so. I rather thought it must have been written by some hot Gladstonian. It seems, however, that her informant was right. She wishes me to tell you that she replied to her informant that she felt quite sure that if you wrote it, it was because you thought it.
To which Huxley replied:—]
I am much obliged for your letter, which is just such as I felt sure you would write.
Pray thank Mrs. Stokes for her kind message. I am very grateful for her confidence in my uprightness of intention.
We must agree to differ.
It may be needful for me and those who agree with me to place our opinions on record; but you may depend upon it that nothing will be done which can suggest any lack of friendship or respect for our President.
[It will be seen from this correspondence and the letter to Sir J. Donnelly of July 15, that Huxley was a staunch Unionist. Not that he considered the actual course of English rule in Ireland ideal; his main point was that under the circumstances the establishment of Home Rule was a distinct betrayal of trust, considering that on the strength of Government promises, an immense number of persons had entered into contracts, had bought land, and staked their fortunes in Ireland, who would be ruined by the establishment of Home Rule. Moreover, he held that the right of self-preservation entitled a nation to refuse to establish at its very gates a power which could, and perhaps would, be a danger to its own existence. Of the capacity of the Irish peasant for self-government he had no high opinion, and what he had seen of the country, and especially the great central plain, in his frequent visits to Ireland, convinced him that the balance between subsistence and population would speedily create a new agrarian question, whatever political schemes were introduced. This was one of] "the only political questions which interested him."
[Towards the end of October he left London for Hastings, partly for his own, but still more for his wife's sake, as she was far from well. He was still busy with one or two Royal Society Committees, and came up to town occasionally to attend their meetings, especially those dealing with the borings in the Delta, and with Antarctic exploration. Thus he writes:—]
11 Eversfield Place, Hastings, October 31, 1887.
My dear Foster,
We have been here for the last week, and are likely to be here for some time, as my wife, though mending, is getting on but slowly, and she will be as well out of London through beastly November. I shall be up on Thursday and return on Friday, but I do not want to be away longer, as it is lonesome for the wife.
I quite agree to what you propose on Committee, so I need not be there. Very glad to hear that the Council "very much applauded what we had done," and hope we shall get the 500 pounds.
I don't believe a word in increasing whale fishery, but scientifically, the Antarctic expedition would, or might be very interesting, and if the colonies will do their part, I think we ought to do ours.
You won't want me at that Committee either. Hope to see you on Thursday.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
Hideous pen!
[But he did not come up that Thursday. His wife was for a time too ill to be left, and he winds up the letter of November 2 to Dr. Foster with the reflection:—]
Man is born to trouble as the sparks, etc.—but when you have come to my time of life you will say as I do—Lucky it is no worse.
November 6.
I am very glad to hear that the 500 pounds is granted, and I will see to what is next to be done as soon as I can. Also I am very glad to find you don't want my valuable service on Council Royal Society. I repented me of my offer when I thought how little I might be able to attend.
[One thing, however, afforded him great pleasure at this time. He writes on November 6 to his old friend, Sir J. Hooker:—]
I write just to say what infinite satisfaction the award of the Copley Medal to you has given me. If you were not my dear old friend, it would rejoice me as a mere matter of justice—of which there is none too much in this "— rum world," as Whitworth's friend called it.
[To the reply that the award was not according to rule, inasmuch as it was the turn for the medal to be awarded in another branch of science, he rejoins:—]
I had forgotten all about the business—but he had done nothing to deserve the Copley, and all I can say is that if the present award is contrary to law, the "law's a hass" as Mr. Bumble said. But I don't believe that it is.
[He replies also on November 5 to a clerical correspondent who had written to him on the distinction between sheretz and rehmes, and accused him of "wilful blindness" in his theological controversy of 1886:—]
Let me assure you that it is not my way to set my face against being convinced by evidence.
I really cannot hold myself to be responsible for the translators of the Revised Version of the Old Testament. If I had given a translation of the passage to which you refer on my own authority, any mistake would be mine, and I should be bound to acknowledge it. As I did not, I have nothing to admit. I have every respect for your and Mr. —'s authority as Hebraists, but I have noticed that Hebrew scholars are apt to hold very divergent views, and before admitting either your or Mr. —'s interpretation, I should like to see the question fully discussed.
If, when the discussion is concluded, the balance of authority is against the revised version, I will carefully consider how far the needful alterations may affect the substance of the one passage in my reply to Mr. Gladstone which is affected by it.
At present I am by no means clear that it will make much difference, and in no case will the main lines of my argument as to the antagonism between modern science and the Pentateuch be affected. The statements I have made are public property. If you think they are in any way erroneous I must ask you to take upon yourself the same amount of responsibility as I have done, and submit your objections to the same ordeal.
There is nothing like this test for reducing things to their true proportions, and if you try it, you will probably discover, not without some discomfort, that you really had no reason to ascribe wilful blindness to those who do not agree with you.
[He was now preparing to complete his campaign of the spring on technical education by delivering an address to the Technical Education Association at Manchester on November 29, and looked forward to attending the anniversary meeting of the Royal Society on his way home next day, and seeing the Copley medal conferred upon his old friend, Sir J. Hooker. However, unexpected trouble befell him. First he was much alarmed about his wife, who had been ill more or less ever since leaving Arolla. Happily it turned out that there was nothing worse than could be set right by a slight operation. But nothing had been done when news came of the sudden death of his second daughter on November 19.] "I have no heart for anything just now," [he writes; nevertheless, he forced himself to fulfil this important engagement at Manchester, and in the end the necessity of bracing himself for the undertaking acted on him as a tonic.
It is a trifle, perhaps, but a trifle significant of the disturbance of mind that could override so firmly fixed a habit, that the two first letters he wrote after receiving the news are undated; almost the only omission of the sort I have found in all his letters of the last twenty-five years of his life.
His daughter's long illness had left him without hope for months past, but this, as he confessed, did not mend matters much. In his letters to his two most intimate friends, he recalls her brilliant promise, her happy marriage, her] "faculty for art, which some of the best artists have told me amounted to genius." [But he was naturally reticent in these matters, and would hardly write of his own griefs unbidden even to old friends.]
85 Marina, St. Leonards, November 21, 1887.
My dear Spencer,
You will not have forgotten my bright girl Marian, who married so happily and with such bright prospects half a dozen years ago?
Well, she died three days ago of a sudden attack of pneumonia, which carried her off almost without warning. And I cannot convey to you a sense of the terrible sufferings of the last three years better than by saying that I, her father, who loved her well, am glad that the end has come thus…
My poor wife is well nigh crushed by the blow. For though I had lost hope, it was not in the nature of things that she should.
Don't answer this—I have half a mind to tear it up—for when one is in a pool of trouble there is no sort of good in splashing other people.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[As for his plans, he writes to Sir J. Hooker on November 21:—]
I had set my heart on seeing you get the Copley on the 30th. In fact, I made the Manchester people, to whom I had made a promise to go down and address the Technical Education Association, change their day to the 29th for that reason.
I cannot leave them in the lurch after stirring up the business in the way I have done, and I must go and give my address. But I must get back to my poor wife as fast as I can, and I cannot face any more publicity than that which it would be cowardly to shirk just now. So I shall not be at the Society except in the spirit.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[And again to Sir M. Foster:—]
You cannot be more sorry than I am that I am going to Manchester, but I am not proud of chalking up "no popery" and running away—for all Evans' and your chaff—and, having done a good deal to stir up the Technical Education business and the formation of the Association, I cannot leave them in the lurch when they urgently ask for my services…
The Delta business must wait till after the 30th. I have no heart for anything just now.
[The letters following were written in answer to letters of sympathy.]
85 Marina, St. Leonards, November 25, 1887.
My dear Mr. Clodd,
Let me thank you on my wife's behalf and my own for your very kind and sympathetic letter.
My poor child's death is the end of more than three years of suffering on her part, and deep anxiety on ours. I suppose we ought to rejoice that the end has come, on the whole, so mercifully. But I find that even I, who knew better, hoped against hope, and my poor wife, who was unfortunately already very ill, is quite heart-broken. Otherwise, she would have replied herself to your very kind letter.
She has never yet learned the art of sparing herself, and I find it hard work to teach her.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[In the same strain he writes to Dr. Dyster:—]
Rationally we must admit that it is best so. But then, whatever Linnaeus may say, man is not a rational animal—especially in his parental capacity.
85, Marina, St. Leonards, November 25, 1887.
My dear Knowles,
I really must thank you very heartily for your letter. It went to our hearts and did us good, and I know you will like to learn that you have helped us in this grievous time.
My wife is better, but fit for very little; and I do not let her write a letter even, if I can help it. But it is a great deal harder to keep her from doing what she thinks her duty than to get most other people to do what plainly is their duty.
With our kindest love and thanks to all of you.
Ever, my dear Knowles, yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Yes, you are quite right about "loyal." I love my friends and hate my enemies, which may not be in accordance with the Gospel, but I have found it a good wearing creed for honest men.
[The "Address on behalf of the National Association for the Promotion of Technical Education," first published in the ensuing number of "Science and Art," and reprinted in "Collected Essays," 3 427-451, was duly delivered in Manchester, and produced a considerable effect.
He writes to Sir M. Foster, December 1:—]
I am glad I resisted the strong temptation to shirk the business. Manchester has gone solid for technical education, and if the idiotic London papers, instead of giving half a dozen lines of my speech, had mentioned the solid contributions to the work announced at the meeting, they would have enabled you to understand its importance.
…I have the satisfaction of having got through a hard bit of work, and am none the worse physically—rather the better for having to pull myself together.
[And to Sir J. Hooker:—]
85 Marina, St. Leonards, December 4, 1887.
My dear Hooker,
x = 8, 6.30. I meant to have written to ask you all to put off the x till next Thursday, when I could attend, but I have been so bedevilled I forgot it. I shall ask for a bill of indemnity.
I was rather used up yesterday, but am picking up. In fact my Manchester journey convinced me that there was more stuff left than I thought for. I travelled 400 miles, and made a speech of fifty minutes in a hot, crowded room, all in about twelve hours, and was none the worse. Manchester, Liverpool, and Newcastle have now gone in for technical education on a grand scale, and the work is practically done. Nunc dimittis!
I hear great things of your speech at the dinner. I wish I could have been there to hear it…
[Of the two following letters, one refers to the account of Sir J.D. Hooker's work in connection with the award of the Copley medal; the other, to Hooker himself, touches a botanical problem in which Huxley was interested.]
St. Leonards, November 25, 1887.
My dear Foster,
…I forget whether in the notice of Hooker's work you showed me there was any allusion made to that remarkable account of the Diatoms in Antarctic ice, to which I once drew special attention, but Heaven knows where?
Dyer perhaps may recollect all about the account in the "Flora Antarctica," if I mistake not. I have always looked upon Hooker's insight into the importance of these things and their skeletons as a remarkable piece of inquiry—anticipative of subsequent deep sea work.
Best thanks for taking so much trouble about H—. Pray tell him if ever you write that I have not answered his letter only because I awaited your reply. He may think my silence uncivil…
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
To Sir J.D. Hooker.
4 Marlborough Place, December 29, 1887.
Where is the fullest information about distribution of Coniferae? Of course I have looked at "Genera Plantarum" and De Candolle.
I have been trying to make out whether structure or climate or paleontology throw any light on their distribution—and am drawing complete blank. Why the deuce are there no Conifers but Podocarpus and Widringtonias in all Africa south of the Sahara? And why the double deuce are about three-quarters of the genera huddled together in Japan and northern China?
I am puzzling over this group because the paleontological record is comparatively so good.
I am beginning to suspect that present distribution is an affair rather of denudation than migration.
Sequoia! Taxodium! Widringtonia! Araucaria! all in Europe, in Mesozoic and Tertiary.
[The following letters to Mr. Herbert Spencer were written as sets of proofs of his Autobiography arrived. That to Sir J. Skelton was to thank him for his book on "Maitland of Lethington," the Scotch statesman of the time of Queen Mary.]
January 18, 1887.
[The first part of this letter is given above.]
My dear Spencer,
I see that your proofs have been in my hands longer than I thought for.
But you may have seen that I have been "starring" at the Mansion
House…
I am immensely tickled with your review of your own book. That is something most originally Spencerian. I have hardly any suggestions to make, except in what you say about the "Rattlesnake" work and my position on board.
Her proper business was the survey of the so-called "inner passage" between the Barrier Reef and the east coast of Australia; the New Guinea work was a hors d'oeuvre, and dealt with only a small part of the southern coast.
Macgillivray was naturalist—I was actually Assistant-Surgeon and nothing else. But I was recommended to Stanley by Sir John Richardson, my senior officer at Haslar, on account of my scientific proclivities. But scientific work was no part of my duty. How odd it is to look back through the vista of years! Reading your account of me, I had the sensation of studying a fly in amber. I had utterly forgotten the particular circumstance that brought us together. Considering what wilful tykes we both are (you particularly), I think it is a great credit to both of us that we are firmer friends now than we were then. Your kindly words have given me much pleasure.
This is a deuce of a long letter to inflict upon you, but there is more coming. The other day a Miss —, a very good, busy woman of whom I and my wife have known a little for some years, sent me a proposal of the committee of a body calling itself the London Liberty League (I think) that I should accept the position of one of three honorary something or others, you and Mrs. Fawcett being the other two.
Now you may be sure that I should be glad enough to be associated with you in anything; but considering the innumerable battles we have fought over education, vaccination, and so on, it seemed to me that if the programme of the League were wide enough to take us both for figure-heads, it must be so elastic as to verge upon infinite extensibility; and that one or other of us would be in a false position.
So I wrote to Miss — to that effect, and the matter then dropped.
Misrepresentation is so rife in this world that it struck me I had better tell you exactly what happened.
On the whole, your account of your own condition is encouraging; not going back is next door to going forward. Anyhow, you have contrived to do a lot of writing.
We are all pretty flourishing, and if my wife does not get worn out with cooks falling ill and other domestic worries, I shall be content.
Now this really is the end.
Ever yours very truly,
T.H. Huxley.
4 Marlborough Place, London, N.W., March 7, 1887.
My dear Skelton [This letter is one of the twelve from T.H.H. already published by Sir John Skelton in his "Table Talk of Shirley" page 295 sq.],
Wretch that I am, I see that I have never had the grace to thank you for "Maitland of Lethington" which reached me I do not choose to remember how long ago, and which I read straight off with lively satisfaction.
There is a paragraph in your preface, which I meant to have charged you with having plagiarised from an article of mine, which had not appeared when I got your book. In that Hermitage of yours, you are up to any Esotericobuddhistotelepathic dodge!
It is about the value of practical discipline to historians. Half of them know nothing of life, and still less of government and the ways of men.
I am quite useless, but have vitality enough to kick and scratch a little when prodded.
I am at present engaged on a series of experiments on the thickness of skin of that wonderful little wind-bag —. The way that second rate amateur poses as a man of science, having authority as a sort of papistical Scotch dominie, bred a minister, but stickit, really "rouses my corruption." What a good phrase that is. I am cursed with a lot of it, and any fool can strike ile.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Please remember me very kindly to Mrs. Skelton.
11 Eversfield Place, Hastings, November 18, 1887.
My dear Spencer,
I was very glad to get your letter this morning. I heard all about you from Hirst before I left London, now nearly a month ago, and I promised myself that instead of bothering you with a letter I would run over from here and pay you a visit.
Unfortunately, my wife, who had been ill more or less ever since we left Arolla and came here on Clark's advice, had an attack one night, which frightened me a good deal, though it luckily turned out to arise from easily remediable causes.
Under these circumstances you will understand how I have not made my proposed journey to Brighton.
I am rejoiced to hear of your move. I believe in the skill of Dr. B. Potter and her understanding of the case more than I do in all the doctors and yourself put together. Please offer my respectful homage to that eminent practitioner.
You see people won't let me alone, and I have had to tell the Duke to "keep on board his own ship," as the Quaker said, once more. I seek peace, but do not ensue it.
Send any quantity of proofs, they are a good sign. By the way, we move to 85 Marina, St. Leonards, to-morrow.
Wife sends her kind regards.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
85 Marina, St. Leonards, December 1887.
My dear Spencer,
I have nothing to criticise in the enclosed except that the itineraries seem to me rather superfluous.
I am glad to find that you forget things that have happened to you as completely as I do. I should cut almost as bad a figure as "Sir Roger" if I were cross-examined about my past life.
Your allusion to sending me the proofs made me laugh by reminding me of a particularly insolent criticism with which I once favoured you: "No objection except to the whole."
It was some piece of diabolical dialectics, in which I could pick no hole, if the premises were granted—and even then could be questioned only by an ultra-sceptic!
Do you see that the American Association of Authors has adopted a Resolution, which is a complete endorsement of my view of the stamp-swindle?
We have got our operation over, and my wife is going on very well.
Overmuch anxiety has been telling on me, but I shall throw it off.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.