1874.
[My father's health continued fairly good in 1874, and while careful
to avoid excessive strain he was able to undertake nearly as much as
before his illness outside his regular work at South Kensington, the
Royal Society, and on the Royal Commission. To this year belong three
important essays, educational and philosophical. From February 25 to
March 3 he was at Aberdeen, staying first with Professor Bain,
afterwards with Mr. Webster, in fulfilment of his first duty as Lord
Rector to deliver an address to the students. (It may be noted that
between 1860 and 1890 he and Professor Bain were the only Lord Rectors
of Aberdeen University elected on non-political grounds.) Taking as
his subject "Universities, Actual and Ideal," he then proceeded to
vindicate, historically and philosophically, the claims of natural
science to take the place from which it had so long been ousted in the
universal culture which a University professes to give. More
especially he demanded an improved system of education in the medical
school, a point to which he gave practical effect in the Council of
the University.]
In an ideal University, as I conceive it, a man should be able to
obtain instruction in all forms of knowledge, and discipline in the
use of all the methods by which knowledge is obtained. In such a
University the force of living example should fire the student with a
noble ambition to emulate the learning of learned men, and to follow
in the footsteps of the explorers of new fields of knowledge. And the
very air he breathes should be charged with that enthusiasm for truth,
that fanaticism of veracity, which is a greater possession than much
learning; a nobler gift than the power of increasing knowledge; by so
much greater and nobler than these, as the moral nature of man is
greater than the intellectual; for veracity is the heart of morality.
[("Collected Essays" 3 189 sqq.)
As for the "so-called 'conflict of studies,'" he exclaims:--]
One might as well inquire which of the terms of a Rule of Three sum
one ought to know in order to get a trustworthy result. Practical life
is such a sum, in which your duty multiplied into your capacity and
divided by your circumstances gives you the fourth term in the
proportion, which is your deserts, with great accuracy.
[The knowledge on which medical practice should be based is] "the sort
of practical, familiar, finger-end knowledge which a watchmaker has of
a watch," [the knowledge gained in the dissecting-room and
laboratory.]
Until each of the greater truths of anatomy and physiology has become
an organic part of your minds--until you would know them if you were
roused and questioned in the middle of the night, as a man knows the
geography of his native place and the daily life of his home. That is
the sort of knowledge which, once obtained, is a lifelong possession.
Other occupations may fill your minds--it may grow dim and seem to be
forgotten--but there it is, like the inscription on a battered and
defaced coin, which comes out when you warm it.
[Hence the necessity to concentrate the attention on these cardinal
truths, and to discard a number of extraneous subjects commonly
supposed to be requisite whether for general culture of the medical
student or to enable him to correct the possible mistakes of
druggists. Against this "Latin fetish" in medical education, as he
used to call it, he carried on a lifelong campaign, as may be gathered
from his published essays on medical education, and from letters given
in later chapters of this book. But there is another side to such
limitation in professional training. Though literature is an essential
in the preliminary, general education, culture is not solely dependent
upon classics.]
Moreover, I would urge that a thorough study of Human Physiology is in
itself an education broader and more comprehensive than much that
passes under that name. There is no side of the intellect which it
does not call into play, no region of human knowledge into which
either its roots or its branches do not extend; like the Atlantic
between the Old and New Worlds, its waves wash the shores of the two
worlds of matter and of mind; its tributary streams flow from both;
through its waters, as yet unfurrowed by the keel of any Columbus,
lies the road, if such there be, from the one to the other; far away
from that North-west Passage of mere speculation, in which so many
brave souls have been hopelessly frozen up.
[Of the address he writes to his wife, February 27:--]
I have just come back from the hall in which the address was
delivered, somewhat tired. The hall was very large, and contained, I
suppose, a couple of thousand people, and the students made a terrific
row at intervals, though they were quiet enough at times. As the
address took me an hour and a half to deliver, and my voice has been
very shaky ever since I have been here, I did not dare to put too much
strain upon it, and I suspect that the people at the end of the hall
could have heard very little. However, on the whole, it went off
better than I expected.
[And to Professor Baynes:--]
I am very glad you liked my address. The students were abnormally
quiet for the first half-hour, and then made up for their reticence by
a regular charivari for the rest of the time. However, I was consoled
by hearing that they were much quieter than usual.
Dr. John Muir's appreciation is worth having. It did not occur to me
that what I had to say would interest people out of Britain, but to my
surprise I had an application from a German for permission to
translate the address the other day.
[Again to his wife, March 1:--]
...I was considerably tired after my screed on Friday, but Bain and I
took a long walk, and I was fresh again by dinner-time. I dined with
the Senators at a hotel in the town, and of course had to make a
speech or two. However I cut all that as fast as I could. They were
all very apologetic for the row the students made. After the dinner
one of the Professors came to ask me if I would have any objection to
attend service in the College Chapel on Sunday, as the students would
like it. I said I was quite ready to do anything it was customary for
the Rector to do, and so this morning in half an hour's time I shall
be enduring the pains and penalties of a Presbyterian service.
There was to have been another meeting of the University Court
yesterday, but the Principal was suffering so much from an affection
of the lungs that I adjourned the meeting till to-morrow. Did I tell
you that I carried all my resolutions about improving the medical
curriculum? Fact, though greatly to my astonishment. To-morrow we go
in for some reforms in the arts curriculum, and I expect that the job
will be tougher.
I send you a couple of papers--"Scotsman," with a very good leading
article, and the "Aberdeen Herald" also with a leading article, which
is as much favourable as was to be expected...The Websters are making
me promise to bring you and one of the children here next autumn. They
are wonderfully kind people.
March 2.
My work here finishes to-day. There is a meeting of the Council at one
o'clock, and before that I am to go and look over laboratories and
collections with sundry Professors. Then there is the supper at
half-past eight and the inevitable speeches, for which I am not in the
least inclined at present. I went officially to the College Chapel
yesterday, and went through a Presbyterian service for the first time
in my life. May it be the last!
Then to lunch at Professor Struthers' and back here for a small
dinner-party. I am standing it all well, for the weather is villainous
and there is no getting any exercise. I shall leave here by the twelve
o'clock train to-morrow.
[On August 2 he delivered an address on "Joseph Priestley" ("Collected
Essays" 3 1) at Birmingham, on the occasion of the presentation of a
statue of Priestley to that town. The biography of this pioneer of
science and of political reform, who was persecuted for opinions that
have in less than a century become commonplaces of orthodox thought,
suggested a comparison between those times and this, and evoked a
sincere if not very enthusiastic tribute to one who had laboured to
better the world, not for the sake of worldly honour, but for the sake
of truth and right.
As the way to Birmingham lay through Oxford, he was asked by Professor
Ray Lankester, then a Fellow of Exeter College, if he could not break
his journey there, and inspect the results of his investigations on
Lymnaeus. The answer was as follows:--]
We go to Birmingham on Friday by the three o'clock train, but there is
no chance of stopping at Oxford either going or coming, so that unless
you bring a Lymnaeus or two (under guise of periwinkles for
refreshment) to the carriage door I shall not be able to see them.
[The following letters refer both to this address on Priestley, and to
the third of the important addresses of this year, that "On the
Hypothesis that Animals are Automata, and its History" ("Collected
Essays" 1 199, see also below). The latter was delivered at Belfast
before the British Association under Tyndall's presidency. It appears
that only a month before, he had not so much as decided upon his
subject--indeed, was thinking of something quite different.
The first allusion in these letters is to a concluding phase of
Tyndall's controversy upon the claims of the late Principal Forbes in
the matter of Glacier theory:--]
4 Marlborough Place, London, N.W., June 24, 1874.
My dear Tyndall,
I quite agree with your Scotch friend in his estimate of Forbes, and
if he were alive and the controversy beginning, I should say draw your
picture in your best sepia or lampblack. But I have been thinking over
this matter a good deal since I received your letter, and my verdict
is, leave that tempting piece of portraiture alone.
The world is neither was nor just, but it makes up for all its folly
and injustice by being damnably sentimental, and the more severely
true your portrait might be the more loud would be the outcry against
it. I should say publish a new edition of your "Glaciers of the Alps,"
make a clear historical statement of all the facts showing Forbes'
relations to Rendu and Agassiz, and leave the matter to the judgment
of your contemporaries. That will sink in and remain when all the
hurly-burly is over.
I wonder if that address is begun, and if you are going to be as wise
and prudent as I was at Liverpool. When I think of the temptation I
resisted on that occasion, like Clive when he was charged with
peculation, "I marvel at my own forbearance!" Let my example be a
burning and a shining light to you. I declare I have horrid misgivings
of your kicking over the traces.
The "x" comes off on Saturday next, so let your ears burn, for we
shall be talking about you. I have just begun my lectures to
Schoolmasters, and I wish they were over, though I am very well on the
whole.
Griffith [for many years secretary to the British Association.] wrote
to ask for the title of my lecture at Belfast, and I had to tell him I
did not know yet. I shall not begin to think of it till the middle of
July when these lectures are over.
The wife would send her love, but she has gone to Kew to one of
Hooker's receptions, taking Miss Jewsbury, who is staying with us.
[Miss Geraldine Jewsbury (1812-1880) the novelist, and friend of the
Carlyles. After 1866 she lived at Sevenoaks.] I was to have gone to
the College of Physicians' dinner to-night, but I was so weary when I
got home that I made up my mind to send an excuse. And then came the
thought that I had not written to you.
Ever yours sincerely,
T.H. Huxley.
[The next letter is in reply to Tyndall, who had written as follows
from Switzerland on July 15:--
I confess to you that I am far more anxious about your condition than
about my own; for I fear that after your London labour the labour of
this lecture will press heavily upon you. I wish to Heaven it could be
transferred to other shoulders.
I wish I could get rid of the uncomfortable idea that I have drawn
upon you at a time when your friend and brother ought to be anxious to
spare you every labour...
PS.--Have just seen the Swiss "Times"; am intensely disgusted to find
that while I was brooding over the calamities possibly consequent on
your lending me a hand, that you have been at the Derby Statue, and
are to make an oration apropos of the Priestley Statue in Birmingham
on the 1st August!!!]
4 Marlborough Place, London, N.W., July 22, 1874.
My dear Tyndall,
I hope you have been taking more care of your instep than you did of
your leg in old times. Don't try mortifying the flesh again.
I was uncommonly amused at your disgustful wind-up after writing me
such a compassionate letter. I am as jolly as a sandboy so long as I
live on a minimum and drink no alcohol, and as vigorous as ever I was
in my life. But a late dinner wakes up my demoniac colon and gives me
a fit of blue devils with physical precision.
Don't believe that I am at all the places in which the newspapers put
me. For example, I was not at the Lord Mayor's dinner last night. As
for Lord Derby's statue, I wanted to get a lesson in the art of statue
unveiling. I help to pay Dizzie's salary, so I don't see why I should
not get a wrinkle from that artful dodger.
I plead guilty to having accepted the Birmingham invitation [to unveil
the statue of Joseph Priestley]. I thought they deserved to be
encouraged for having asked a man of science to do the job instead of
some noble swell, and, moreover, Satan whispered that it would be a
good opportunity for a little ventilation of wickedness. I cannot say,
however, that I can work myself up into much enthusiasm for the dry
old Unitarian who did not go very deep into anything. But I think I
may make him a good peg whereon to hang a discourse on the tendencies
of modern thought.
I was not at the Cambridge pow-wow--not out of prudence, but because I
was not asked. I suppose that decent respect towards a Secretary of
the Royal Society was not strong enough to outweigh University
objections to the incumbent of that office. It is well for me that I
expect nothing from Oxford or Cambridge, having burned my ships so far
as they were concerned long ago.
I sent your note on to Knowles as soon as it arrived, but I have heard
nothing from him. I wrote to him again to-night to say he had better
let me see it in proof if he is going to print it. I am right glad you
find anything worth reading again in my old papers. I stand by the
view I took of the origin of species now as much as ever.
Shall I not see the address? It is tantalising to hear of your
progress, and not to know what is in it.
I am thinking of taking Development for the subject of my evening
lecture, the concrete facts made out in the last thirty years without
reference to Evolution. [I.e. at the British Association; he actually
took "Animals as Automata."] If people see that it is Evolution, that
is Nature's fault, and not mine.
We are all flourishing, and send our love.
Ever yours faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[The paper on Animal Automatism is in effect an enlargement of a short
paper read before the Metaphysical Society in 1871, under the title of
"Has a Frog a Soul?" It begins with a vindication of Descartes as a
great physiologist, doing for the physiology of motion and sensation
that which Harvey had done for the circulation of the blood. A series
of propositions which constitute the foundation and essence of the
modern physiology of the nervous system are fully expressed and
illustrated in the writings of Descartes. Modern physiological
research, which has shown that many apparently purposive acts are
performed by animals, and even by men, deprived of consciousness, and
therefore of volition, is at least compatible with the theory of
automatism in animals, although the doctrine of continuity forbids the
belief that] "such complex phenomena as those of consciousness first
make their appearance in man." [And if the volitions of animals do not
enter into the chain of causation of their actions at all, the fact
lays at rest the question] "How is it possible to imagine that
volition, which is a state of consciousness, and, as such, has not the
slightest community of nature with matter in motion, can act upon the
moving matter of which the body is composed, as it is assumed to do in
voluntary acts?"
[As for man, the argumentation, if sound, holds equally good. States
of consciousness are immediately caused by molecular changes of the
brain-substance, and our mental conditions are simply the symbols in
consciousness of the changes which take place automatically in the
organism.
As for the bugbear of the] "logical consequences" [of this
conviction,] "I may be permitted to remark [he says] that logical
consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men."
[And if St. Augustine, Calvin, and Jonathan Edwards have held in
substance the view that men are conscious automata, to hold this view
does not constitute a man a fatalist, a materialist, nor an atheist.
And he takes occasion once more to declare that he ranks among none of
these philosophers.]
Not among fatalists, for I take the conception of necessity to have a
logical, and not a physical foundation; not among materialists, for I
am utterly incapable of conceiving the existence of matter if there is
no mind in which to picture that existence; not among atheists, for
the problem of the ultimate cause of existence is one which seems to
me to be hopelessly out of reach of my poor powers. Of all the
senseless babble I have ever had occasion to read, the demonstrations
of these philosophers who undertake to tell us all about the nature of
God would be the worst, if they were not surpassed by the still
greater absurdities of the philosophers who try to prove that there is
no God.
[This essay was delivered as an evening address on August 24, the
Monday of the Association week. A vast stir had been created by the
treatment of deep-reaching problems in Professor Tyndall's
presidential address; interest was still further excited by this
unexpected excursion into metaphysics. "I remember," writes Sir M.
Foster, "having a talk with him about the lecture before he gave it. I
think I went to his lodgings--and he sketched out what he was going to
say. The question was whether, in view of the Tyndall row, it was wise
in him to take the line he had marked out. In the end I remember his
saying,] 'Grasp your nettle, that is what I have got to do.'" [But
apart from the subject, the manner of the address struck the audience
as a wonderful tour de force. The man who at first disliked public
speaking, and always expected to break down on the platform, now,
without note or reference of any kind, discoursed for an hour and a
half upon a complex and difficult subject, in the very words which he
had thought out and afterwards published.
This would have been a remarkable achievement if he had planned to do
so and had learned up his speech; but the fact was that he was
compelled to speak offhand on the spur of the moment. He describes the
situation in a letter of February 6, 1894, to Professor Ray
Lankester:--]
I knew that I was treading on very dangerous ground, so I wrote out
uncommonly full and careful notes, and had them in my hand when I
stepped on to the platform.
Then I suddenly became aware of the bigness of the audience, and the
conviction came upon me that, if I looked at my notes, not one half
would hear me. It was a bad ten seconds, but I made my election and
turned the notes face downwards on the desk.
To this day, I do not exactly know how the thing managed to roll
itself out; but it did, as you say, for the best part of an hour and a
half.
There's a story pour vous encourager if you are ever in a like fix.
[He writes home on August 20:--]
Johnny's address went off exceedingly well last night. There was a
mighty gathering in the Ulster Hall, and he delivered his speech very
well. The meeting promises to be a good one, as there are over 1800
members already, and I daresay they will mount up to 2000 before the
end. The Hookers' arrangements [i.e. for the members of the x club and
their wives to club together at Belfast] all went to smash as I rather
expected they would, but I have a very good clean lodging well outside
the town where I can be quiet if I like, and on the whole I think that
is better, as I shall be able to work up my lectures in peace...
August 21.
Everything is going on very well here. The weather is delightful, and
under these circumstances my lodgings here with John Ball for a
companion turns out to be a most excellent arrangement. Ca va sans
dire, though, by the way, that is a bull induced by the locality. I am
not going on any of the excursions on Sunday. I am going to have a
quiet day here when everybody will suppose that I have accepted
everybody else's invitation to be somewhere else. The Ulster Hall, in
which the addresses are delivered, seems to me to be a terrible room
to speak in, and I mean to nurse my energies all Monday. I sent you a
cutting from one of the papers containing an account of me that will
amuse you. The writer is evidently disappointed that I am not a
turbulent savage.
August 25.
...My work is over and I start for Kingstown, where I mean to sleep
to-night, in an hour. I have just sent you a full and excellent report
of my lecture. ["On Animals as Automata": see above.] I am glad to say
it was a complete success. I never was in better voice in my life, and
I spoke for an hour and a half without notes, the people listening as
still as mice. There has been a great row about Tyndall's address, and
I had some reason to expect that I should have to meet a frantically
warlike audience. But it was quite otherwise, and though I spoke my
mind with very great plainness, I never had a warmer reception. And I
am not without hope that I have done something to allay the storm,
though, as you may be sure, I did not sacrifice plain speaking to that
end...I have been most creditably quiet here, and have gone to no
dinners or breakfasts or other such fandangoes except those I accepted
before leaving home. Sunday I spent quietly here, thinking over my
lecture and putting my peroration, which required a good deal of care,
into shape. I wandered out into the fields in the afternoon, and sat a
long time thinking of all that had happened since I was here a young
beginner, two and twenty, and...you were largely in my thoughts, which
were full of blessings and tender memories.
I had a good night's work last night. I dined with the President of
the College, and then gave my lecture. After that I smoked a bit with
Foster till eleven o'clock, and then I went to the "Northern Whig"
office to see that the report of my lecture was all right. It is the
best paper here, and the Editor had begged me to see to the report,
and I was anxious myself that I should be rightly represented. So I
sat there till a quarter past one having the report read and
correcting it when necessary. Then I came home and got to bed about
two. I have just been to the section and read my paper there to a
large audience who cannot have understood ten words of it, but who
looked highly edified, and now I have done. Our lodging has turned out
admirably, and Ball's company has been very pleasant. So that the
fiasco of our arrangements was all for the best.
[I take the account of this last-mentioned paper in Section D from the
report in "Nature":--
Professor Huxley opened the last day of the session with an account of
his recent observations on the development of the Columella auris in
Amphibia. (He described it as an outgrowth of the periotic capsule,
and therefore unconnected with any visceral arch.)...
In the absence of Mr. Parker there was no one competent to criticise
the paper from personal knowledge; but a word dropped as to the many
changes in the accepted homologies of the ossicula auditus, elicited a
masterly and characteristic exposition of the series of new facts, and
the modifications of the theory they have led to, from Reichert's
first observations down to the present time. The embryonic structures
grew and shaped themselves on the board, and shifted their relations
in accordance with the views of successive observers, until a graphic
epitome of the progress of knowledge on the subject was completed.
He and Parker indeed (to whom he signs himself, "Ever yours
amphibially") had been busy, not only throughout 1874, but for several
years earlier, examining the development of the Amphibia, with a
particular view to the whole theory of the vertebrate skull, for which
he had done similar work in 1857 and 1858. Thus on May 4, 1870, he
writes to Parker:--]
I read all the most important part of your Frog-paper last night, and
a grand piece of work it is--more important, I think, in all its
bearings than anything you have done yet.
From which premisses I am going to draw a conclusion which you do not
expect, namely, that the paper must by no manner of means go into the
Royal Society in its present shape. And for the reasons following:--
In the first place, the style is ultra-Parkerian. From a literary
point of view, my dear friend, you remind me of nothing so much as a
dog going home. He has a goal before him which he will certainly reach
sooner or later, but first he is on this side the road, and now on
that; anon, he stops to scratch at an ancient rat-hole, or maybe he
catches sight of another dog, a quarter of a mile behind, and bolts
off to have a friendly, or inimical sniff. In fact, his course
is...(here a tangled maze is drawn) not --. In the second place, you
must begin with an earlier stage...That is the logical starting-point
of the whole affair.
Will you come and dine at 6 on Saturday, and talk over the whole
business?
If you have drawings of earlier stages you might bring them. I suspect
that what is wanted might be supplied in plenty of time to get the
paper in.
[In 1874 he re-dissects the skull of Axolotl to clear up the question
as to the existence of the] "ventral head or pedicle" [which Parker
failed to observe:] "If you disbelieve in that pedicle again, I shall
be guilty of an act of personal violence." [Later,] "I am benevolent
to all the world, being possessed of a dozen live axolotls and four or
five big dead mesobranchs. Moreover, I am going to get endless Frogs
and Toads by judicious exchange with Gunther. [Dr. A.C.L.G. Gunther,
of the British Museum, where he was appointed Keeper of the Department
of Zoology in 1875.] We will work up the Amphibia as they have not
been done since they were crea-- I mean evolved."
[The question of the pedicle comes up again when he simplifies some of
Parker's results as to the development of the Columella auris in the
Frog.] "Your suprahyomandibular is nothing but the pedicle of the
suspensorium over again. It has nothing whatever to do with the
Columella auris...The whole thing will come out as simply as possible
without any of your coalescences and combotherations. How you will
hate me and the pedicle."
[Tracing the development of the columella was a long business, but it
grew clearer as young frogs of various ages were examined.] "Don't be
aggravated with yourself," [he writes to Parker in July,] "it's tough
work, this here Frog." [And on August 5:] "I have worked over Toad and
I have worked over Frog, and I tell an obstinate man that s.h.m.
[suprahyomandibular] is a figment--or a vessel, whichever said
obstinate man pleases." [The same letter contains what he calls his
final views on the columella, but by the end of the year he has gone
further, and writes:--]
Be prepared to bust-up with all the envy of which your malignant
nature is capable. The problem of the vertebrate skull is solved.
Fourteen segments or thereabouts in Amphioxus; all but one (barring
possibilities about the ear capsule) aborted in higher vertebrata.
Skull and brain of Amphioxus shut up like an opera-hat in higher
vertebrata. So! (Sketch in illustration.)
P.S.--I am sure you will understand the whole affair from this.
Probably published it already in "Nature!"
[A letter to the "Times" of July 8, 1874, on women's education, was
evoked by the following circumstances. Miss Jex Blake's difficulties
in obtaining a medical education have already been referred to. A
further discouragement was her rejection at the Edinburgh examination.
Her papers, however, were referred to Huxley, who decided that certain
answers were not up to the standard.]
As Miss Jex Blake may possibly think that my decision was influenced
by prejudice against her cause, allow me to add that such prejudice as
I labour under lies in the opposite direction. Without seeing any
reason to believe that women are, on the average, so strong
physically, intellectually, or morally, as men, I cannot shut my eyes
to the fact that many women are much better endowed in all these
respects than many men, and I am at a loss to understand on what
grounds of justice or public policy a career which is open to the
weakest and most foolish of the male sex should be forcibly closed to
women of vigour and capacity.
We have heard a great deal lately about the physical disabilities of
women. Some of these alleged impediments, no doubt, are really
inherent in their organisation, but nine-tenths of them are
artificial--the products of their modes of life. I believe that
nothing would tend so effectually to get rid of these creations of
idleness, weariness, and that "over-stimulation of the emotions"
which, in plainer-spoken days, used to be called wantonness, than a
fair share of healthy work, directed towards a definite object,
combined with an equally fair share of healthy play, during the years
of adolescence; and those who are best acquainted with the
acquirements of an average medical practitioner will find it hardest
to believe that the attempt to reach that standard is like to prove
exhausting to an ordinarily intelligent and well-educated young woman.
[The Marine Biological Station at Naples was still struggling for
existence, and to my father's interest in it is do you the following
letter, one of several to Dr. Dohrn, whose marriage took place this
summer:--]
4 Marlborough Place, June 24, 1874.
My dear Dohrn,
Are you married yet or are you not? It is very awkward to congratulate
a man upon what may not have happened to him, but I shall assume that
you are a benedict, and send my own and my wife's and all the happy
family's good wishes accordingly. May you have as good a wife and as
much a "happy family" as I have, though I would advise you--the
hardness of the times being considered--to be satisfied with fewer
than seven members thereof.
I hear excellent accounts of the progress of the Station from
Lankester, and I hope that it is now set on its legs permanently. As
for the English contribution, you must look upon it simply as the
expression of the hearty goodwill of your many friends in the land of
fogs, and of our strong feeling that where you had sacrificed so much
for the cause of science, we were, as a matter of duty,--quite apart
from goodwill to you personally--bound to do what we could, each
according to his ability.
Darwin is, in all things, noble and generous--one of those people who
think it a privilege to let him help. I know he was very pleased with
what you said to him. He is working away at a new edition of the
"Descent of Man," for which I have given him some notes on the brain
question.
And apropos of that, how is your own particular brain? I back la belle
M-- against all the physicians in the world--even against mine own
particular Aesculapius, Dr. Clark--to find the sovereignest remedy
against the blue devils.
Let me hear from you--most abominable of correspondents as I am. And
why don't you send Madame's photograph that you have promised?
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Pray give my kind remembrances to your father.
4 Marlborough Place, March 31, 1874.
My dear Darwin,
The brain business is more than half done, and I will soon polish it
off and send it to you. [A note on the brain in man and the apes for
the second edition of the "Descent of Man."] We are going down to
Folkestone for a week on Thursday, and I shall take it with me.
I do not know what is doing about Dohrn's business at present. Foster
took it in hand, but the last time I heard he was waiting for reports
from Dew and Balfour.
You have been very generous as always; and I hope that other folk may
follow your example, but like yourself I am not sanguine.
I have had an AWFULLY tempting offer to go to Yankee-land on a
lecturing expedition, and I am seriously thinking of making an
experiment next spring.
The chance of clearing two or three thousand pounds in as many months
is not to be sneezed at by a pere de famille. I am getting sick of the
state of things here.
Ever yours faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
I have heard no more about the spirit photographs!
4 Marlborough Place, April 16, 1874.
My dear Darwin,
Put my contribution into the smallest type possible, for it will be
read by none but anatomists; and never mind where it goes.
I am glad you agree with me about the hand and foot and skull
question. As Ward [W.G. Ward.] said of Mill's opinions, you can only
account for the views of Messrs. -- and Co. on the supposition of
"grave personal sin" on their part.
I had a letter from Dohrn a day or two ago in which he tells me he has
written to you. I suspect he has been very ill.
Let us know when you are in town, and believe me,
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[The allusion in the letter of March 31 to certain "spirit
photographs" refers to a series of these wonderful productions sent to
him by a connection of Mr. Darwin's, who was interested in these
matters, and to whom he replied, showing how the effect might have
been produced by simple mechanical means.
It was at this gentleman's house that in January a carefully organised
seance was held, at which my father was present incognito, so far as
the medium was concerned, and on which he wrote the following report
to Mr. Darwin, referred to in his "Life," volume 3 page 187.
It must be noted that he had had fairly extensive experience of
spiritualism; he had made regular experiments with Mrs. Haydon at his
brother George's house (the paper on which these are recorded is
undated, but it must have been before 1863); he was referred to as a
disbeliever in an article in the "Pall Mall Gazette" during January
1869, as a sequel to which a correspondent sent him an account of the
confessions of the Fox girls, who had started spiritualism forty years
before. At the houses of other friends, he had attended seances and
met mediums by whom he was most unfavourably impressed.
Moreover, when invited to join a committee of investigation into
spiritualistic manifestations, he replied:--]
I regret that I am unable to accept the invitation of the Committee of
the Dialectical Society to cooperate with a committee for the
investigation of "Spiritualism"; and for two reasons. In the first
place, I have not time for such an inquiry, which would involve much
trouble and (unless it were unlike all inquiries of that kind I have
known) much annoyance. In the second place, I take no interest in the
subject. The only case of "Spiritualism" I have had the opportunity of
examining into for myself, was as gross an imposture as ever came
under my notice. But supposing the phenomena to be genuine--they do
not interest me. If anybody would endow me with the faculty of
listening to the chatter of old women and curates in the nearest
cathedral town, I should decline the privilege, having better things
to do. And if the folk in the spiritual world do not talk more wisely
and sensibly than their friends report them to do, I put them in the
same category. The only good that I can see in the demonstration of
the truth of "Spiritualism" is to furnish an additional argument
against suicide. Better live a crossing-sweeper than die and be made
to talk twaddle by a "medium" hired at a guinea a seance. [(Quoted
from a review in the "Daily News," October 17, 1871, of the Report on
Spiritualism of the Committee of the London Dialectical Society.)
To the report above-mentioned, Professor G. Darwin, who also was
present, added one or two notes and corrections.]
REPORT ON SEANCE.
January 27, 1874.
We met in a small room at the top of the house with a window capable
of being completely darkened by a shutter and curtains opposite the
door. A small light table with two flaps and four legs, unsteady and
easily moved, occupied the middle of the room, leaving not much more
than enough space for the chairs at the sides. There was a chair at
each end, two chairs on the fireplace side, and one on the other. Mr.
X (the medium) was seated in the chair at the door end, Mr. Y (the
host) in the opposite chair, Mr. G. Darwin on the medium's right, Mr.
Huxley on his left, Mr. Z between Mr. Huxley and Mr. (Darwin) Y. The
table was small enough to allow these five people to rest their hands
on it, linking them together. On the table was a guitar which lay
obliquely across it, an accordion on the medium's side of the guitar,
a couple of paper horns, a Japanese fan, a matchbox, and a candlestick
with a candle.
At first the room was slightly darkened (leaving plenty of light from
the window, however) and we all sat round for half an hour. My right
foot was against the medium's left foot, and two fingers of my right
hand had a good grip of the little finger of his left hand. I compared
my hand (which is NOT small and IS strong) with his, and was edified
by its much greater massiveness and strength. (No, we didn't link
until the darkness. G.D.)
G.D.'s left hand was, as I learn, linked with medium's right hand, and
left foot on medium's (left) right foot.]
We sat thus for half an hour as aforesaid and nothing happened.
The room was next thoroughly darkened by shutting the shutters and
drawing the curtains. Nevertheless, by great good fortune I espied
three points of light, coming from the lighted passage outside the
door. One of these came beneath the door straight to my eye, the other
two were on the wall (or on a press) obliquely opposite. By still
greater good fortune, these three points of light had such a position
in reference to my eye that they gave me three straight lines
traversing and bounding the space in which the medium sat, and I at
once saw that if Medium moved his body forwards or backwards he must
occult one of my three rays. While therefore taking care to feel his
foot and keep a good grip of his hand, I fixed my eyes intently on
rays A and B. For I felt sure that I could trust to G.D. keeping a
sharp look-out on the right hand and foot; and so no instrument of
motion was left to the medium but his body and head, the movements of
which could not have been discernible in absolute darkness. Nothing
happened for some time. At length a very well executed muscular
twitching of the arm on my side began, and I amused myself by
comparing it with the convulsions of a galvanised frog's leg, but at
the same time kept a very bright look-out on my two rays A and B.
The twitchings ceased, and then after a little time A was shut out. B
then became obscure, and A became visible. "Hoho!" thought I,
"Medium's head is well over the table. Now we are going to have some
manifestations." Immediately followed a noise obviously produced by
the tumbling over of the accordion and some shifting of the position
of the guitar. Next came a twanging--very slight, but of course very
audible--of some of the strings, during which B was invisible. By and
by B and A became visible again, and Medium's voice likewise showed
that he had got back to his first position. But after he had returned
to this position there was a noise of the guitar and other things on
the table being stirred, and creeping noises like something light
moving over the table. But no more actual twanging.
To my great disgust, G.D. now began to remark that he saw two spots of
light, which I suppose must have had the same origin as my rays A and
B, and, moreover, that something occasionally occulted one or other of
them. [Note: no, not till we changed places. G.H.D.] I blessed him for
spoiling my game, but the effect was excellent. Nothing more happened.
By and by, after some talk about these points of light, the medium
suggested that this light was distracting, and that we had better shut
it out. The suggestion was very dexterously and indirectly made, and
was caught up more strongly [I think by Mr. Z). Anyhow, we agreed to
stop out all light. The circle was broken, and the candle was lighted
for this purpose. I then took occasion to observe that the guitar was
turned round into the position noted in the margin, the end being near
my left hand. On examining it I found a longish end of one of the
catgut strings loose, and I found that by sweeping this end over the
strings I could make quite as good twangs as we heard. I could have
done this just as well with my mouth as with my hand--and I could have
pulled the guitar about by the end of the catgut in my mouth and so
have disturbed the other things--as they were disturbed.
Before the candle was lighted some discussion arose as to why the
spirits would not do any better (started by Mr. Y and Mr. Z, I think),
in which the medium joined. It appeared that (in the opinion of the
spirits as interpreted by the medium) we were not quite rightly
placed. When the discussion arose I made a bet with myself that the
result would be that either I or G.D. Would have to change places with
somebody else. And I won my wager (I have just paid it with the
remarkably good cigar I am now smoking). G.D. Had to come round to my
side, Mr. Z went to the end, and Mr. Y took G.D.'s place. "Good,
Medium," said I to myself. "Now we shall see something." We were in
pitch darkness, and all I could do was to bring my sense of touch to
bear with extreme tension upon the medium's hand--still well in my
grip.
Before long Medium became a good deal convulsed at intervals, and soon
a dragging sound was heard, and Mr. Y told us that the arm-chair (mark
its position) had moved up against his leg, and was shoving against
him. By degrees the arm-chair became importunate, and by the manner of
Mr. Y's remarks it was clear that his attention was entirely given to
its movements.
Then I felt the fingers of the medium's left hand become tense--in
such a manner as to show that the muscles of the left arm were
contracting sympathetically with those of the other arm, on which a
considerable strain was evidently being put. Mr. Y's observations upon
the eccentricities of the arm-chair became louder--a noise was heard
as of the arm-chair descending on the table and shoving the guitar
before it (while at the same time, or just before, there was a crash
of a falling thermometer), and the tension of the left arm ceased. The
chair had got on to the table. Says the medium to Mr. Y, "Your hand
was against mine all the time." "Well, no," replied Mr. Y, "not quite.
For a moment as the chair was coming up I don't think it was." But it
was agreed that this momentary separation made no difference. I said
nothing, but, like the parrot, thought the more. After this nothing
further happened. But conversation went on, and more than once the
medium was careful to point out that the chair came upon the table
while his hand was really in contact with Mr. Y's.
G.D. will tell you if this is a fair statement of the facts. I believe
it is, for my attention was on the stretch for those mortal two hours
and a half, and I did not allow myself to be distracted from the main
points in any way. My conclusion is that Mr. X is a cheat and an
imposter, and I have no more doubt that he got Mr. Y to sit on his
right hand, knowing from the turn of his conversation that it would be
easy to distract his attention, and that he then moved the chair
against Mr. Y with his leg, and finally coolly lifted it on to the
table, than that I am writing these lines.
T.H. Huxley.
As Mr. G. Darwin wrote of the seance, "it has given me a lesson with
respect to the worthlessness of evidence which I shall always
remember, and besides will make me very diffident in trusting myself.
Unless I had seen it, I could not have believed in the evidence of any
one with such perfect bona fides as Mr. Y being so worthless."
[On receiving this report Mr. Darwin wrote ("Life" 2 page 188):--
Though the seance did tire you so much, it was, I think, really worth
the exertion, as the same sort of things are done at all the
seances...and now to my mind an enormous weight of evidence would be
requisite to make me believe in anything beyond mere trickery.
The following letter to Mr. Morley, then editor of the "Fortnightly
Review," shows that my father was already thinking of writing upon
Hume, though he did not carry out this intention till 1878.
The article referred to in the second letter is that on Animals as
Automata.]
4 Marlborough Place, N.W., June 4, 1874.
My dear Mr. Morley,
I assure you that it was a great disappointment to me not to be able
to visit you, but we had an engagement of some standing for Oxford.
Hume is frightfully tempting--I thought so only the other day when I
saw the new edition advertised--and now I would gladly write about him
in the "Fortnightly" if I were only sure of being able to keep any
engagement to that effect I might make.
But I have yet a course of lectures before me, and an evening
discourse to deliver at the British Association--to say nothing of
opening the Manchester Medical School in October--and polishing off a
lot of scientific work. So you see I have not a chance of writing
about Hume for months to come, and you had much better not trust to
such a very questionable reed as I am.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
4 Marlborough Place, N.W., November 15, 1874.
My dear Morley,
Many thanks for your abundantly sufficient cheque--rather too much, I
think, for an article which had been gutted by the newspapers.
I am always very glad to have anything of mine in the "Fortnightly,"
as it is sure to be in good company; but I am becoming as spoiled as a
maiden with many wooers. However, as far as the "Fortnightly" which is
my old love, and the "Contemporary" which is my new, are concerned, I
hope to remain as constant as a persistent bigamist can be said to be.
It will give me great pleasure to dine with you, and December 1 will
suit me excellently well.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[The year winds up with a New Year's greeting to Professor Haeckel.]
4 Marlborough Place, N.W., December 28, 1874.
My dear Haeckel,
This must reach you in time to wish you and yours a happy New Year in
English fashion. May your shadow never be less, and may all your
enemies, unbelieving dogs who resist the Prophet of Evolution, be
defiled by the sitting of jackasses upon their grandmothers' graves!
an oriental wish appropriate to an ex-traveller in Egypt.
I have written a notice of the "Anthropogenie" for the Academy, but I
am so busy that I am afraid I should never have done it--but for being
put into a great passion--by an article in the "Quarterly Review" for
last July, which I read only a few days ago. My friend Mr. --, to whom
I had to administer a gentle punishment some time ago, has been at the
same tricks again, but much worse than his former performance--you
will see that I have dealt with him as you deal with a "Pfaffe."
[Parson.] There are "halb-Pfaffen" as well as "halb-Affen." [Lit.
Half-apes; the Prosimiae and Lemurs.] So if what I say about
"Anthropogenie" seems very little--to what I say about the "Quarterly
Review"--do not be offended. It will all serve the good cause.
I have been working very hard lately at the lower vertebrata, and
getting out results which will interest you greatly. Your suggestion
that Rathke's canals in Amphioxus [The Lancelet.] are the Wolffian
ducts was a capital shot, but it just missed the mark because Rathke's
canals do not exist. Nevertheless there are two half canals, the
dorsal walls of which meet in the raphe described by Stieda, and the
plaited lining of this wall (a) is, I believe, the renal organ.
Moreover, I have found the skull and brain of Amphioxus, both of which
are very large (like a vertebrate embryo's) instead of being
rudimentary as we all have thought, and exhibit the primitive
segmentation of the "Urwirbelthier" skull. [Primitive vertebrate.]
Thus the skull of Petromyzon answers to about fourteen segments of the
body of Amphioxus, fused together and indistinguishable in even the
earliest embryonic state of the higher vertebrata.
Does this take your breath away? Well, in due time you shall be
convinced. I sent in a brief notice to the last meeting of the Royal
Society, which will soon be in your hands.
I need not tell you of the importance of all this. It is unlucky for
Semper that he has just put Amphioxus out of the Vertebrata
altogether--because it is demonstratable that Amphioxus is nearer than
could have been hoped to the condition of the primitive vertebrate--a
far more regular and respectable sort of ancestor than even you
suspected. For you see "Acrania" will have to go.
I think we must have an English translation of the "Anthropogenie."
There is great interest in these questions now, and your book is very
readable, to say nothing of its higher qualities.
My wife (who sends her kindest greetings) and I were charmed with the
photograph. [As for our] publication in that direction, the seven
volumes are growing into stately folios. You would not know them.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
How will you read this scrawl now that Gegenbaur is gone?
[In the article here referred to, a review of a book by Professor G.H.
Darwin, a personal attack of an unjustifiable character was made upon
him, and through him, upon Charles Darwin. The authorship of the
review in question had come to be known, and Huxley writes to his
friend:--]
I entirely sympathise with your feeling about the attack on George. If
anybody tries that on with my boy L., the old wolf will show all the
fangs he has left by that time, depend upon it...
You ought to be like one of the blessed gods of Elysium, and let the
inferior deities do battle with the infernal powers. Moreover, the
severest and most effectual punishment for this sort of moral
assassination is quietly to ignore the offender and give him the cold
shoulder. He knows why he gets it, and society comes to know why, and
though society is more or less of a dunderhead, it has honourable
instincts, and the man in the cold finds no cloak that will cover him.