As soon as I have time I will deal with Comte effectually, you may depend upon that. At the same time, I shall endeavour to be just to what there is (as I hold), really great and good in his clear conception of the necessity of reconstructing society from the bottom to the top "sans dieu ni roi," if I may interpret that somewhat tall phrase as meaning "with our conceptions of religion and politics on a scientific basis."
Comte in his later days was an apostate from his own creed; his "nouveau grand Etre supreme," being as big a fetish as ever nigger first made and then worshipped.
Ever yours faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[It is interesting to note how he invariably submitted his writings to the criticism of his wife before they were seen by any other eye. To her judgment was due the toning down of many a passage which erred by excess of vigour, and the clearing up of phrases which would be obscure to the public. In fact, if an essay met with her approval, he felt sure it would not fail of its effect when published. Writing to her from Norwich on August 23, 1868, he confesses himself with reference to the lecture "On a Piece of Chalk":—]
I met Grove who edits "Macmillan," at the soiree. He pulled the proof of my lecture out of his pocket and said, "Look here, there is one paragraph in your lecture I can make neither top nor tail of. I can't understand what it means." I looked to where his finger pointed, and behold it was the paragraph you objected to when I read you the lecture on the sea shore! I told him, and said I should confess, however set up it might make you.
[At the beginning of September, he rejoined his wife and family at Littlehampton,] "a grand place for children, because you go UP rather than DOWN into the sea, and it is quite impossible for them to get into mischief by falling," [as he described it to his friend Dr. Dohrn, who came down for ten days, eagerly looking forward "to stimulating walks over stock and stone, to Tennyson, Herbert Spencer, and Harry's ringing laugh."
The latter half of the month he spent at or near Dublin, serving upon the Commission on Science and Art Instruction:—]
Today [he writes on September 16], we shall be occupied in inspecting the School of Science and the Glasnevin botanical and agricultural gardens, and to-morrow we begin the session work of examining all the Irishry, who want jobs perpetrated. It is weary work, and the papers are already beginning to tell lies about us and attack us.
[The rest of the year he remained in London, except the last four days of December, when he was lecturing at Newcastle, and stayed with Sir W. Armstrong at Jesmond.]