CHAPTER IV

EARLY DAYS IN LONDON

Scientific Work as Unattached Ship-Surgeon--Introduction to

London Scientific Society--Translating, Reviewing, and

Lecturing--Ascidians--Molluscs and the Archetype--Criticism of

Pre-Darwinian Evolution--Appointment to Geological Survey.

The _Rattlesnake_ was paid off at Chatham on November 9, 1850. In the

natural course of events Huxley would have been appointed before long

to active service upon another ship. But he had no intention of

relapsing into the position of a mere navy doctor; he had accumulated

sufficient scientific material to keep him employed on scientific

investigation for years, and so he applied to the Admiralty to "be

borne on the books" of H.M.S. _Fisgard_ at Woolwich,--that is to say,

to be appointed assistant-surgeon to the ship "for particular

service," so that he should not be compelled to live on board, but

might remain in town, and, with free access to libraries and museums,

work up the observations he had made on the _Rattlesnake_ into serious

and substantial contributions to science. His request was granted,

largely by the aid of his old chief, Sir W. Burnett, who continued to

take the most useful interest in the young man he had originally

nominated to the service. In a letter to him Huxley described the

investigations which he desired to continue as being chiefly those on

"the anatomy of certain Gasteropod and Pteropod Mollusca, of Firola

and Atlantis, of Salpa and Pyrosoma, of two new Ascidians, namely,

Appendicularia and Doliolum, of Sagitta and certain Annelids, of the

auditory and circulatory organs of certain transparent Crustacea, and

of the Medusæ and Polyps." His request was granted, and for the next

three years Huxley lived in London with his brother, on the exiguous

income of an assistant-surgeon, and devoted himself to research. He

became almost at once of the first rank among English anatomists. The

result of the paper on Medusæ in the _Transactions of the Royal

Society_ was that he was elected a Fellow of the Society on June 5,

1851, and a year later received a Royal Medal of the Society. He made

many warm friendships both among the older and the younger generations

of scientific men. In his obituary notice of Huxley, Sir Michael

Foster wrote:

"By Edward Forbes, in whose nature there was much that was akin

to his own, and with whom he had some acquaintance before his

voyage, he was at once greeted as a comrade, and with Joseph

Dalton Hooker, to whom he was drawn at the very first by their

common experience as navy surgeons, he began an attachment which,

strengthened by like biological aspirations, grew closer as their

lives went on. In the first year after his return, in the autumn

of 1851, he made the acquaintance of John Tyndall at the meeting

of the British Association at Ipswich, and the three, Hooker,

Huxley, and Tyndall, finding how much in common were all their

scientific views and desires, formed then and there a triple

scientific alliance."

Repeated efforts were made by these three, and by more influential

friends, to induce the Admiralty to contribute to the expense of

publishing Huxley's scientific results, as they had given a pledge to

encourage officers who had done scientific work. These efforts lasted

unavailingly for nearly three years, and then, as Huxley says: "The

Admiralty, getting tired, I suppose, cut short the discussion by

ordering me to join a ship, which thing I declined to do, and, as

Rastignac, in the _Père Goriot_, says to Paris, I said to London, _à

nous deux_." This light phrase conceals a courageous and momentous

decision. He was absolutely without private resources, and having

abandoned his professional work he had no salary of any kind. For a

year or so he supported himself by writing reviews and popular

scientific articles, striving all the time not only to gain his bread

but to continue his scientific work and make it known to the public.

He desired to get a professorship of physiology or of comparative

anatomy, and as vacancies occurred he applied, but unsuccessfully. At

the same time, he tells us, he and his friend, John Tyndall, were

"candidates, he for the Chair of Physics, and I for that of

Natural History in the University of Toronto, which, fortunately,

as it turned out, would not look at either of us. I say

fortunately, not from any lack of respect for the University of

Toronto; but because I soon made up my mind that London was the

place for me, and hence I have steadily declined the inducements

to leave it which have at various times been offered."

In these early years in London Huxley's work was most varied. A large

number of anonymous articles by him appeared in the _Literary

Gazette_, and in other periodicals. He assisted to remove the insular

narrowness from English scientific work by translating many foreign

memoirs. With the collaboration of Mr. Henfrey, he edited a series of

scientific memoirs, all of which were translated from foreign

languages, and many by his own pen. With the assistance of Mr. George

Busk he made a translation of Kölliker's _Histology_, a great treatise

on microscopic anatomy which played a large part in the development of

the modern English schools of anatomy and physiology. He made some

valuable contributions to Todd and Bowman's _Cyclopædia of Anatomy_,

an elaborate publication now nearly forgotten and practically

superseded, but which was the standard anatomical work of the middle

of this century. He was unable to progress rapidly with his work upon

oceanic Medusæ, as he was uncertain how to have it published; the

Admiralty refused to assist, and it was too lengthy for publication in

the volumes of the learned Societies. As a matter of fact, he did not

publish it until 1858, when it appeared as a separate memoir. To the

_Quarterly Journal of Microscopical Science_ and to the _Transactions

of the Royal and Linnæan Societies_ he contributed a large number of

memoirs dealing with the microscopic anatomy and relationships of

invertebrates, and, lastly, he gave a series of addresses at the Royal

Institution, which had been founded as a means by which leading men of

science might give accounts of their work to London society. Abstracts

of these lectures are published in the early volumes of the

_Proceedings of the Royal Institution_ and are interesting as shewing

the kinds of zoölogical subjects which were attracting the attention

of Huxley and which he considered of sufficient interest and

importance to bring to the notice of the general public. The first of

these lectures, and probably the first given in public by Huxley,

occurred on April 30, 1852, and was entitled "Animal Individuality."

The problem as to what is meant by an individual had been raised in

his mind by consideration of many of the forms of marine life,

notably compound structures like the Portuguese man-of-war, and

creatures like the salps, which form floating chains often many yards

in length. He explained that the word _individual_ covers at least

three quite different kinds of conceptions. There is, first, what he

described as arbitrary individuality, an individuality which is given

by the mind of the observer and does not actually exist in the thing

considered. Thus a landscape is in a sense an individual thing, but

only so far as it is a particular part of the surface of the earth,

isolated for the time in the mind of the person looking at it. If the

observer shift his position, the range of the landscape alters and

becomes something else. Next there are material, or practically

accidental individual things, such as crystals or pieces of stone;

and, lastly, there are living individuals which, as he pointed out,

were cycles. All living things are born into the world, grow up, and

die, and it was to the cycle of life, from the egg to the adult which

produces eggs, that he gave the name individual. In a simple animal

like Hydra there is no difficulty in accepting this plain definition

of individuality; but Huxley went on to compare with Hydra a compound

creature like the Portuguese man-of-war, which really is composed of a

colony of Hydra-like creatures, the different members of the colony

being more or less altered to serve different functions. All these

have come from the branching of a single simple creature produced from

an egg, and to the whole colony Huxley gave the name of zoölogical

individual. The salps give a still wider interpretation to this view

of individuality. The original salp produced from the egg gives rise

to many salps, which may either remain attached in a chain, or,

breaking away from one another, may live separately. Huxley extended

the use of the word _individual_ so as to include as a single

zoölogical individual the whole set of creatures cohering in chains or

breaking apart, which had been produced by budding from the product of

a single egg-cell. This subtle analysis of ideas delighted and

interested his contemporaries, and the train of logical examination of

what is meant by individuality has persisted to the present time. Like

all other zoölogical ideas, this has been considerably altered by the

conception of evolution. Zoölogists no longer attempt to stretch

logical conceptions until they fit enormous and different parts of the

living world. They recognise that the living world, because it is

alive, is constantly changing, and that living things pass through

different stages or kinds of individuality in the course of their

lives. A single egg-cell is one kind, perhaps the simplest kind, of

zoölogical individual; when it has grown up into a simple polyp it has

passed into a second grade of individuality; when, by budding, the

polyp has become branched, a third grade is reached, and when the

branches have become different, in obedience to the different purposes

which they are to serve in the whole compound creature, a still

further grade is reached. Huxley's attempt to find a meaning for

individuality that would apply equally to a single simple creature, to

a compound creature, and to the large number of separate creatures,

all developed by budding from one creature, is a striking instance of

his singular capacity for bringing apparently dissimilar facts into

harmony, by finding out the common underlying principle, and, although

we no longer accept this particular conclusion, we cannot fail to

notice in it the peculiar powers of his mind.

A second and even more interesting Royal Institution lecture dealt

with the "Identity of Structure in Animals and Plants." At the present

time every educated person knows that the life of animals and plants

alike depends on the fact that their bodies are composed of a living

material called protoplasm, a material which is identical in every

important respect in both kingdoms of the living world. In the early

fifties, scientific opinion was by no means clear on this matter, and

certainly public opinion was most vague. Huxley discussed what was

meant by organisation, and shewed that in every essential respect

plants and animals alike were organised beings. Then he went on to

explain the cellular theory of Schwann, which was then a novelty to a

general audience. Schwann, in studying the microscopic structure of

plants, noticed that their bodies were made up of little cases with

firm walls; these he called _cells_, and declared that the whole body

of the plant was composed of cells. As the walls of these cells were

the most obvious and visible feature, it was supposed that they were

the most essential part of the structure, and there was some

difficulty in applying the cellular theory to the bodies of animals,

as in most cases there are no easily visible cell-walls in animal

tissues. As the result of his own observation, and from his reading of

the work of others, Huxley laid down in the clearest way what is now

accepted by everyone--that the presence of walls is of minor

importance, and that it is the slimy contents of the cells, what is

called "protoplasm," that is the important element. He declared that

the protoplasm of animals was identical with the protoplasm of plants,

and that plants were "animals confined in wooden cases." He agreed

with Schwann that the cell, using the term to imply the contents

rather than the wall, was of fundamental importance, and was the unit

of structure of the whole world of life. On the other hand, he

declared that it could not be looked at as the unit of function: he

denied that the powers and properties of a living body were simply the

sum of the powers and properties of the single cells. In this opinion

he was not followed by physiologists until quite recently. For many

years physiologists held that cells were units of function just as

much as they are units of structure; but in the last ten years there

has been a strong return to the opinion of Huxley.

In 1851 two very important memoirs were published in the _Transactions

of the Royal Society_, which contained the results of Huxley's

observations of the interesting animals known as "tunicates." The

first of these papers begins as follows:

"The Salpæ, those strange gelatinous animals, through masses of

which the voyager in the great ocean sometimes sails day after

day, have been the subject of a great controversy since the time

of the publication of the celebrated work of Chamisso, _De

Animalibus Quibusdam e Classe Vermium Linnæana_. In this work

there were set forth, for the first time, the singular phenomena

presented by the reproductive processes of these

animals,--phenomena so strange, and so utterly unlike anything

then known to occur in the whole province of zoölogy, that

Chamisso's admirably clear and truthful account was received with

almost as much distrust as if he had announced the existence of a

veritable Peter Schlemihl."

According to Chamisso, salps appeared in two forms: solitary forms,

and forms in which a number of salps are united into a long chain.

Each salp of the aggregate form contains within it an embryo receiving

nutrition from the mother by a connection similar to the placenta by

which the embryo of a mammal receives nourishment from the blood of

the mother. These embryos grow up into the solitary form, and the

solitary form gives rise to a long chain of the aggregate form which

developes in the interior of the body. Chamisso compared this progress

to the development of insects. "Supposing," he said, "caterpillars did

not bodily change into butterflies, but by a process of sexual

breeding produced young which grew into the ordinary adults, and that

these adults, as indeed they do, gave rise to caterpillars by sexual

reproduction, then there would be a true alternation of generations."

The first generation would give rise to a second generation totally

unlike itself, and this second generation would reproduce, not its

kind, but the first generation; such an alternation of generations he

stated to occur among the salps. Huxley had an excellent opportunity

to study this question at Cape York in November, 1849. "For a time the

sea was absolutely crowded with Salpæ, in all stages of growth, and of

size very convenient for examination." He was able to verify the

general truth of Chamisso's statement. The aggregate form of Salpa

always gives rise to the solitary salps, and the solitary salps always

give rise to chains of the aggregate salps. But the process of

reproduction he shewed to be quite different in the two cases. The

solitary salp produces in its interior a little stolon or diverticulum

which contains an outgrowth from the circulatory system, and this

stolon gradually becomes pinched off into the members of the chain of

the aggregate form. The salps of the aggregate form are therefore

merely buds from the solitary form, and are not produced in the

ordinary way, by sexual generation. On the other hand, each salp of

the chain has within it a true egg-cell. This is fertilised by a male

cell, and within the body of the parent, nourished by the blood of the

parent, grows up into the solitary form. There is then an alternation

of generations, but there are not two sexual generations. The sexual

generation of chain salps gives rise to forms which reproduce by buds.

From this conclusion, with which all later observers have agreed,

Huxley went on to his theory of individuality. Different names had

been given to the two forms, but Huxley declared that neither form was

a true zoölogical individual; they were only parts of individuals or

organs, and the true individual was the complete cycle involving both

forms.

In addition to determining the interesting method of reproduction,

Huxley made an elaborate investigation of the structure of Salpa. On

one occasion only the _Rattlesnake_ came across a quantity of an

allied Ascidian, Pyrosoma, which had received its name from its

phosphorescence.

"The sky was clear but moonless, and the sea calm; and a more

beautiful sight can hardly be imagined than that presented from

the deck of the ship as she drifted, hour after hour, through

this shoal of miniature pillars of fire gleaming out of the dark

sea, with an ever-waning, ever brightening, soft bluish light, as

far as the eye could reach on every side. The Pyrosomata floated

deep, and it was only with difficulty that some were procured for

examination and placed in a bucketful of sea-water. The

phosphorescence was intermittent, periods of darkness alternating

with periods of brilliancy. The light commenced in one spot,

apparently on the surface of one of the zoöids, and gradually

spread from this as a centre in all directions; then the whole

was lighted up: it remained brilliant for a few seconds, and then

gradually faded and died away, until the whole mass was dark

again. Friction at any point induces the light at that point, and

from thence the phosphorescence spreads over the whole, while the

creature is quite freshly taken; afterwards, the illumination

arising from friction is only local."

Dealing with these creatures in the broad anatomical spirit with which

he had studied the Medusæ, Huxley shewed the typical structure

manifested in the different forms, and that was common to them and the

Ascidians or sea-squirts of the seashore. In a second paper on

"Appendicularia and Doliolum" he made further contributions to our

knowledge of these interesting creatures. Appendicularia is a curious

little Ascidian, differing from all the others in its possession of a

tail. Earlier observers had obtained it on various parts of the ocean

surface, but had failed entirely to detect its relationship to the

ordinary Ascidians. Chamisso got it near Behring's Straits and thought

that it was more nearly allied to "Venus's Girdle," a Coelenterate.

Mertens, another distinguished zoölogist, had declared that "the

relation of this animal with the Pteropods (a peculiar group of

molluscs) is unmistakable"; while Müller, a prince among German

anatomists, confessed that "he did not know in what division of the

animal kingdom to place this creature." Huxley shewed that it

possessed all the characteristic features of the Ascidians, the same

arrangement of organs, the same kind of nervous system, a respiratory

chamber formed from the fore part of the alimentary canal, and a

peculiar organ running along the pharynx which Huxley called the

endostyle and which is one of the most striking peculiarities of the

whole group. The real nature of the tail was Huxley's most striking

discovery. He pointed out that ordinary Ascidians begin life as tiny

tadpole-like creatures which swim freely by the aid of a long caudal

appendage; and that while these better-known Ascidians lose their

tails when they settle down into adult life, the Appendiculariæ are

Ascidians which retain this larval structure throughout life. Von Baer

had shown that in the great natural groups of higher animals some

forms occur which typify, in their adult condition, the larval state

of the higher forms of the group. Thus, among the amphibia, frogs have

tails in the larval or tadpole condition; but newts throughout life

remain in the larval or tailed condition. Appendicularia he considered

to be the lowest form of the Ascidians, and to typify in its adult

condition the larval stages of the higher Ascidians.

By this remarkable investigation of the structure of the group of

Ascidians, and display of the various grades of organisation, Huxley

paved the way for one of the great modern advances in knowledge. When,

later on, the idea of evolution was accepted, and zoölogists began

hunting out the pedigree of the back-boned animals, it was discovered

that Ascidians were modern representatives of an important stage in

the ancestry of vertebrate animals, and, therefore, of man himself.

There are few more interesting chapters in genealogical zoölogy than

those which reveal the relationship between Amphioxus and fish on the

one hand, and Ascidians on the other; for fish are vertebrates, and

Ascidians, on the old view, are lowly invertebrates. The details of

these relationships have been made known to us by the brilliant

investigations of several Germans, by Kowalevsky, a Russian, by the

Englishmen Ray Lankester and Willey, and by several Americans and

Frenchmen. But behind the work of all these lies the pioneer work of

Huxley, who first gathered the group of Ascidians together, and in a

series of masterly investigations described its typical structure.

Huxley's next great piece of work was embodied in a memoir published

in the _Transactions of the Royal Society_ in 1853, and which remains

to the present day a model of luminous description and far-reaching

ideas. It was a treatise on the structure of the great group of

molluscs, and displays in a striking fashion his method of handling

anatomical facts, and deducing from them the great underlying

principles of construction. The shell-fish with which he dealt

specially were those distinguished as cephalous, because, unlike

creatures such as the oyster and mussel, they had something readily

comparable with the head of vertebrates. He began by pointing out what

problems he hoped to solve. The anatomy of many of the cephalous

molluscs was known, but the relation of structures present in one to

structures present in another group had not been settled.

"It is not settled whether the back of a cuttle-fish answers to

the dorsal or ventral surface of a gasteropod. It is not decided

whether the arms and funnels of the one have or have not their

homologues in the other. The dorsal integument of a Doris and the

cloak of a whelk are both called 'mantle,' without any evidence

to show that they are really homologous. Nor do very much more

definite notions seem to have prevailed with regard to the

archetypal molluscous form, and the mode in which (if such an

archetype exist) it becomes modified in the different secondary

types."

He had taken from the surface of the sea a number of transparent

shell-fish, and had been able to study the structure and arrangement

of their organs "by simple inspection, without so much as disturbing a

single beat of their hearts." From knowledge gained in this fashion,

and from ordinary dissection of a number of common snails,

cephalopods, and pteropods, he was able to describe in a very complete

way the anatomical structure of cephalous molluscs. The next natural

step, he stated, would have been to describe the embryonic development

of the organs of these different creatures in order that a true

knowledge might be gained of what were the homologous or really

corresponding parts in each. Having had no opportunity to make such

embryological studies for himself, he fell back on numerous accounts

of development by Kölliker, Van Beneden, Gegenbauer, and others, and

so gradually arrived at a conception of what he called the "archetype"

of the cephalous molluscs. As the word _archetype_ was borrowed from

old metaphysical ideas dating back to the time of Plato, he took care

to state that what he meant by it was no more than a form embodying

all that could be affirmed equally respecting every single kind of

cephalous mollusc, and by no means an "idea" upon which it could be

supposed that animal forms had been modelled. He described this

archetype, and showed the condition of the different systems of organs

which it could be supposed to possess, and how these organs were

modified in the different existing groups. This archetypal mollusc of

Huxley's was a creature with a bilaterally symmetrical head and body.

On the ventral side of the body it possessed a peculiar locomotor

appendage, the so-called foot, and the dorsal surface of the body

secreted a shell. Its nervous system consisted of three pairs of

ganglia or brains, one pair in the head, one in the foot, and a third

in the viscera. He shewed how the widely different groups of cephalous

molluscs could be conceived as modifications of this structure, and

extended the conception so as to cover all other molluscs.

Quite apart from the anatomical value of this paper, and although all

technical details have been omitted here, it is necessary to say that

merely as a series of intricate anatomical descriptions and

comparisons, this memoir was one of the most valuable of any that

Huxley wrote. The working out of the theory of the archetype is

peculiarly interesting to compare with modern conceptions. To those of

us who began biological work after the idea of evolution had been

impressed upon anatomical work, it is very difficult to follow

Huxley's papers without reading into them evolutionary ideas. In the

article upon Mollusca, written for the ninth edition of the

_Encyclopædia Britannica_, by Professor Ray Lankester, the same device

of an archetypal or, as Lankester calls it, a schematic mollusc, is

employed in order to explain the relations of the different structures

found in different groups of molluscs to one another. Lankester's

schematic mollusc differs from Huxley's archetypal mollusc only as a

finished modern piece of mechanism, the final result of years of

experiment, differs from the original invention. The method of

comparing the schematic mollusc with the different divergent forms in

different groups is identical, and yet, while the ideas of Darwin are

accepted in every line of Lankester's work, Huxley was writing six

years before the publication of _The Origin of Species_. There was

growing up in Huxley's mind, partly from his own attempts to arrange

the anatomical facts he discovered in an intelligible series, the idea

that within a group the divergencies of structure to be found had come

about by the modification of an original type. Not only did he

conceive of such an evolution as the only possible explanation of the

facts, but he definitely used the word _evolution_ to convey his

ideas. On the other hand, he was firmly convinced that such evolution

was confined within the great groups. For each group there was a

typical structure, and modifications by defect or excess of the parts

of the definite archetype gave rise to the different members of the

group. Moreover, he confined this evolution in the strictest possible

way to each group; he did not believe that what was called

anamorphosis--the transition of a lower type into a higher type--ever

occurred. To use his own words:

"If, however, all Cephalous Mollusca, _i.e._, all Cephalopoda,

Gasteropoda, and Lamellibranchiata, be only modifications by

excess or defect of the parts of a definite archetype, then, I

think, it follows as a necessary consequence, that no

anamorphosis takes place in this group. There is no progression

from a lower to a higher type, but merely a more or less complete

evolution of one type. It may indeed be a matter of very grave

consideration whether true anamorphosis ever occurs in the whole

animal kingdom. If it do, then the doctrine that every natural

group is organised after a definite archetype, a doctrine which

seems to me as important for zoölogy as the theory of definite

proportions for chemistry, must be given up."

It is of great historical interest to notice how closely actual

consideration of the facts of the animal kingdom took zoölogists to an

idea of evolution, and yet how far they were from it as we hold it

now. It is fashionable at the present time to attempt to depreciate

the immense change introduced by Darwin into zoölogical speculation,

and the method employed is largely partial quotation, or reference to

the kind of ideas found in papers such as this memoir by Huxley. The

comparison between the types of the great groups and the combining

proportions of the chemical elements shows clearly that Huxley

regarded the structural plans of the great groups as properties

necessary and inherent in these groups, just as the property of a

chemical element to combine with another chemical substance only in a

fixed proportion is necessary and inherent in the existing conception

of it. There was no glimmer of the idea that these types were not

inherent, but merely historical results of a long and slow series of

changes produced by the interaction of the varied conditions of life

and the intrinsic qualities of living material.

In two lectures delivered at the Royal Institution in 1854 and 1855,

the one on "The Common Plan of Animal Forms," the other on "The

Zoölogical Arguments Adduced in Favour of the Progressive Development

of Animal Life in Time," show, so far as the published abstracts go,

the same condition of mind. The idea of progressive development of all

life from common forms was not unknown to Huxley and his

contemporaries, but was rejected by them. In the first of these two

lectures he took four great groups of animals, the Vertebrates, the

Articulata, the Mollusca, and the Radiata, and explained what was the

archetype of each. He shewed the distinctiveness of each plan of

structure, and then discussed the relations of the ideas suggested by

Von Baer to these archetypes. He stated explicitly that while the

adult forms were quite unlike one another, there were traces of a

common plan to be derived from a study of their embryonic development.

Such a trace of a common plan he had himself suggested when he

compared the foundation-membranes of the Medusæ with the first

foundation-membranes of vertebrate embryos. This was going a long way

towards modern ideas; but he stopped short, and gave no hint that he

believed in the possibility of the development of one plan from a

lower or simpler plan. The second lecture dealt with the kind of ideas

which were crystallised in the popular but striking work of Chambers,

entitled _Vestiges of Creation_. Chambers attacked the theological

view that all animals and plants had been created at the beginning of

the world, and maintained that geological evidence showed the

occurrence of a progressive development of animal life. Huxley, like

all zoölogists and geologists who knew anything of the occurrence of

fossils in the rocks of past ages, agreed with the general truth of

the conception that a progressive development had occurred which

showed that the species now existing were represented in the oldest

rocks by species now extinct. But the examples he brought forward were

all limited to evolution within the great groups, and did not affect

his idea that archetypes were fixed and did not pass into each other.

Moreover, he summed up strongly against the suggestion that there was

any parallel between the succession of life in the past and the forms

assumed by modern animals in their embryological development. So far

as the present writer is able to judge from study of the literature of

this period, the possibility of evolution was present in an active

form in the minds of Huxley and of his contemporaries, and in an

extraordinary way they brought together evidence which afterwards

became of firstrate importance; but the idea in its modern sense was

rejected by them.

In 1854 Huxley's uncomfortable period of probation came to an end.

Edward Forbes, who held the posts of Palæontologist to the Geological

Survey, and Lecturer on General Natural History at the Metropolitan

School of Science Applied to Mining and the Arts, vacated these on his

appointment to the Chair of Natural History in the University of

Edinburgh, and Sir H. De La Beche, the then Director-General of the

Geological Survey, offered both the posts to Huxley--who in June and

July of that year had given lectures at the school in place of Forbes.

Huxley says himself:

"I refused the former point-blank, and accepted the latter only

provisionally, telling Sir Henry that I did not care for fossils,

and that I should give up natural history as soon as I could get

a physiological post. But I held the office for thirty-one years,

and a large part of my work has been palæontological."

The salary of the post of Lecturer on Natural History was scanty, but

De La Beche, who evidently recognised Huxley's genius, and was anxious

to have him attached even against his will to palæontological work,

created a place for him as Naturalist to the Geological Survey, by

which a more suitable income was found for him. His official duties

were at first in the Geological Museum of the Survey, but were

distinguished from those of the special Palæontologist, Mr. Harvey.

His income was now assured, and for the rest of his life, until

towards its close, when he retired to Eastbourne, he lived the

ordinary life of a professional man of science in London. He was now

able to marry, and on July 21, 1855, he was married to a lady whom he

had met in Sydney in 1847, and whom he had not seen since the

_Rattlesnake_ left Sydney finally in the beginning of May, 1850.

During the years 1856, 1857, and 1858, he held the post of Fullerian

Professor of Physiology in the Royal Institution, choosing as the

title of his first two courses of lectures Physiology and Comparative

Anatomy, as he still cherished the idea of being in the first place a

physiologist.

[Illustration: THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, 1857 Reproduced by permission from

_Natural Science_, vol. vii., No. 42]

"Moreover," writes Professor Michael Foster, "like most other

young professional men of science, he had to eke out his not too

ample income by labours undertaken chiefly for their pecuniary

reward. He acted as examiner, conducting for instance, during the

years 1856 to 1863, and again 1865 to 1870, the examinations in

physiology and comparative anatomy at the University of London,

making even an examination paper feel the influence of the new

spirit in biology; and among his examinees at that time there was

at least one who, knowing Huxley's writings, but his writings

only, looked forward to the _viva voce_ test, not as a trial but

as an occasion of delight. He wrote almost incessantly for all

editors who were prepared to give adequate pay to a pen able to

deal with scientific themes in a manner at once exact and

popular, incisive and correct. During this period he was

gradually passing from his first anatomical love, the structure

of the Invertebrates, to Vertebrate work, and although he

continued to take a deep interest in the course of the progress

of research in that group of animals, the publication of his

great work on oceanic hydrozoa by the Ray Society was the last

piece of important work he wrote upon any anatomical subject

apart from vertebrates. His work in connection with the

Geological Survey naturally attracted his attention most closely

to vertebrates, and, towards the close of the fifties, he was led

to make a special study of vertebrate embryology, a subject which

the investigations of Kölliker and others in Germany were

bringing into prominence. The first result of this new direction

of his enquiries was embodied in a Croonian Lecture delivered in

1858 'On the Theory of the Vertebrate Skull.' Sir Richard Owen,

who was at that time the leading vertebrate anatomist in England,

had given his support to an extremely complicated view of the

skull as being formed of a series of expanded vertebræ moulded

together. The theory was really a legacy from an old German

school of which the chief members were Goethe, the poet, and

Oken, a naturalist, who was more of a metaphysical philosopher

than of a morphologist. Huxley pointed out the futility of

attempting to regard the skull as a series of segments, and of

supporting this view by trusting to superficial resemblances and

abstract reasoning, when there was a definite method by which the

actual building up of the skull might be followed. Following the

lines laid down by Rathke, another of the great Germans from

whose investigations he was always so willing to find

corroboration and assistance in his own labours, he traced the

actual development of the skull in the individual. He shewed

that the foundations of the skull and of the backbone were laid

down in a fashion quite different, and that it was impossible to

regard both skull and backbone as modifications of a common type

laid down right along the axis of the body. The spinal column and

the skull start from the same primitive condition, whence they

immediately begin to diverge. It may be true to say that there is

a primitive identity of structure between the spinal or vertebral

column and the skull; but it is no more true that the adult skull

is a modified vertebral column than it would be to affirm that

the vertebral column is a modified skull."

Since this famous lecture, a number of distinguished anatomists have

studied the development of the skull more fully; but they have not

departed from the methods of investigation laid down by Huxley, and

their conclusions have differed only in greater elaboration of detail

from the broad lines laid down by him. Apart from its direct

scientific value, this lecture was of importance as marking the place

to which Huxley had attained in the scientific world. Two years later,

it is true, the London _Times_, referring to a famous debate at a

meeting of the British Association at Oxford, spoke of him as "a Mr.

Huxley"; but in the scientific world he was accepted as the leader of

the younger anatomists, and as one at least capable of rivalling Owen,

who was then at the height of his fame. The Croonian Lecture was in a

sense a deliberate challenge to Owen, and in these days before Darwin,

to challenge Owen was to claim equality with the greatest name in

anatomical science.

Thomas Henry Huxley; A Sketch Of His Life And Work · 第 4 / 17 章