1883.
[The pressure of official work, which had been constantly growing
since 1880, reached its highest point in 1883. Only one scientific
memoir was published by him this year, and then no more for the next
four years. (Contributions to Morphology, Ichthyopsida, Number 2. On
the Oviducts of Osmerus; with remarks on the relations of the
Teleostean with the Ganoid Fishes "Proceedings of the Zoological
Society" 1883 pages 132-139). The intervals of lecturing and examining
were chiefly filled by fishery business, from which, according to his
usual custom when immersed in any investigation, he chose the subject,
"Oysters and the Oyster Question," both for his Friday evening
discourse at the Royal Institution on May 11, and for his course to
Working Men between January 8 and February 12.
There are the usual notes of all seasons at all parts of England. A
deserted hotel at Cromer in January was uninviting.]
My windows look out on a wintry sea, and it is bitter cold.
Notwithstanding, a large number of the aquatic gentleman to whom I
shall have the pleasure of listening, by and by, are loafing against
the railings opposite, as only fishermen can loaf.
[In April he had been ill, and his wife begged him to put off some
business which had to be done at York. But unless absolutely ordered
to bed by his doctor, nothing would induce him to put personal
convenience before public duty. However, he took his son to look after
him.]
I am none the worse for my journey [he writes from York], rather the
better; so Clark is justified, and I should have failed in my duty if
I had not come. H. Looks after me almost as well as you could do.
[To make amends, fishery business in the west country during a fine
summer had] "a good deal of holiday in it," [though a cross journey at
the beginning of August from Abergavenny to Totness made him write:--]
If ever (except to-morrow, by the way) I travel within measurable
distance of a Bank Holiday by the Great Western, may jackasses sit on
my grandmother's grave.
[As the business connected with the Inspectorship had been enlarged in
the preceding years by exhibitions at Norwich and Edinburgh, so it was
enlarged this year, and to a still greater extent, by the Fisheries
Exhibition in London. This involved upon him as Commissioner, not only
the organisation of the Conference on Fish Diseases and the paper on
the Diseases of Fish already mentioned, but administration, committee
meetings, and more--a speech on behalf of the Commissioners in reply
to the welcome given them by the Prince of Wales at the opening of the
Exhibition. On the following day he expressed his feelings at this
mode of spending his time in a letter to Sir M. Foster.]
I am dog-tired with yesterday's function. Had to be at the Exhibition
in full fig at 10 a.m., and did not get home from the Fishmongers'
dinner till 1.20 this morning.
Will you tell me what all this has to do with my business in life, and
why the last fragments of a misspent life that are left to me are to
be frittered away in all this drivel?
Yours savagely,
T.H. Huxley.
[Later in the year, also, he had to serve on another Fishery
Commission much against his will, though on the understanding that, in
view of his other engagements, he need not attend all the sittings.
A more satisfactory result of the Exhibition was that he found himself
brought into close contact with several of the great city companies,
whose enormous resources he had long been trying, not without some
success, to enlist on behalf of technical and scientific education.
Among these may be noted the Fishmongers, the Mercers, who had already
interested themselves in technical education, and gave their hall for
the meetings of the City and Guilds Council, of which Huxley was an
active member; the Clothworkers, in whose schools he distributed the
prizes this year; and, not least, the Salters, who presented him with
their freedom on November 13. Their master, Mr. J.W. Clark, writing in
August, after Huxley had accepted their proposal, says: "I think you
must admit that the City Companies have yielded liberally to the
gentle compassion you have exercised on them. So far from helping you
to act the traitor, we propose to legitimise your claim for education,
which several of us shall be willing to unite with you in promoting."
(See above.)
The crowning addition, however, to Huxley's official work was the
Presidency of the Royal Society. He had resigned the Secretaryship in
1880, after holding office for nine years under three
Presidents--Airy, Hooker, and Spottiswoode. Spottiswoode, like Hooker,
was a member of the x Club, and was regarded with great affection and
respect by Huxley, who in 1887 wrote of him to Mr. John Morley:--]
It is quite absurd you don't know Spottiswoode, and I shall do both
him and you a good turn by bringing you together. He is one of my best
friends, and comes under the A1 class of "people with whom you may go
tiger-hunting."
[On June 7, writing to Professor (afterwards Sir E.) Frankland, he
says:--]
You will have heard that Spottiswoode is seriously ill. The physicians
suspect typhoid, but are not quite certain. I called this morning, and
hear that he remains much as he has been for the last two or three
days. So many of our friends have dropped away in the course of the
last two years that I am perhaps morbidly anxious about Spottiswoode,
but there is no question that his condition is such as to cause grave
anxiety.
[But by the end of the month his fears were realised. Consequently it
devolved upon the Council of the Royal Society to elect one of their
own body to hold office until the St. Andrew's Day following, when a
regular President would be elected at a general meeting of the
Society.
Huxley himself had no wish to stand. He writes to Sir M. Foster on
June 27, announcing Spottiswoode's death, which had taken place that
morning:--]
It is very grievous in all ways. Only the other day he and I were
talking of the almost miraculous way in which the x Club had held
together without a break for some 18 years, and little did either of
us suspect that he would be the first to go.
A heavy responsibility falls on you in the Royal Society. It strikes
me you will have to call another meeting of the Council before the
recess for the consideration of the question of the Presidency. It is
hateful to talk of these things, but I want you to form some notion of
what had best be done as you come up to-morrow.
-- is a possibility, but none of the other officers, I think.
[Indeed, he wished to diminish his official distractions rather than
to increase them. His health was unlikely to stand any additional
strain, and he longed to devote the remainder of his working years to
his unfinished scientific researches. But he felt very strongly that
the President of the Royal Society ought to be chosen for his eminence
in science, not on account of social position, or of wealth, even
though the wealth might have been acquired through the applications of
science. The acknowledgment of this principle had led some years back
to the great revolution from within, which succeeded in making the
Society the living centre and representative of science for the whole
country, and he was above all things anxious that the principle should
be maintained. He was assured, however, from several quarters that
unless he allowed himself to be put forward, there was danger lest the
principle should be disregarded.
Moved by these considerations of public necessity, he unwillingly
consented to be nominated, but only to fill the vacancy till the
general meeting, when the whole Society could make a new choice. Yet
even this limitation seemed difficult to maintain in the face of the
widely expressed desire that he would then stand for the usual period
of five years.] "The worst of it is," [he wrote to Sir M. Foster on
July 2,] "that I see myself gravitating towards the Presidency en
permanence, that is to say, for the ordinary period. And that is what
I by no means desired. -- has been at me (as a sort of deputation, he
told me, from a lot of the younger men) to stand. However, I suppose
there is no need to come to any decision yet."
[The following letters, in reply to congratulations on his election,
illustrate his attitude of mind in the affair:--]
To the Warden of Merton.
Hindhead, July 8, 1883.
My dear Brodrick,
I do not get so many pleasant letters that I can afford to leave the
senders of such things unthanked.
I am very much obliged for your congratulations, and I may say that I
accepted the office inter alia for the purpose of getting people to
believe that such places may be properly held by people who have
neither riches nor station--who want nothing that statesmen can
give--and who care for nothing except upholding the dignity and the
freedom of science.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
To Sir W.H. Flower, F.R.S.
4 Marlborough Place, July 7, 1883.
My dear Flower,
I am overwhelmed by the kind letters I get from all sides, and I need
hardly say that I particularly value yours.
A month ago I said that I ought not, could not, and would not take the
Presidency under any circumstances whatever. My wife was dead against
it, and you know how hen-pecked I am.
Even when I was asked to take the Presidency to the end of the year
and agreed, I stipulated for my freedom next St. Andrew's Day.
But such strong representations were made to me by some of the younger
men about the dangers of the situation, that at the last moment almost
I changed my mind.
However, I wanted it to be clearly understood that the Council and the
Society are, so far as I am concerned, perfectly free to put somebody
else in my place next November. All I stipulate for is that my
successor shall be a man of science.
I will not, if I can help it, allow the chair of the Royal Society to
become the appanage of rich men, or have the noble old Society
exploited by enterprising commercial gents who make their profit out
of the application of science.
Mrs. President was NOT pleased--quite the contrary--but she is
mollified by the kindly expressions, public and private, which have
received the election.
And there are none which we both value more than yours. (I see I said
that before, but I can't say it too often.)
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Hindhead, July 8, 1883.
My dear Flower,
Many thanks for your comforting letter. When I am fairly committed to
anything I generally have a cold fit--and your judgment that I have
done right is "grateful and comforting" like Epps' Cocoa. It is not so
much work as distraction that is involved; and though it may put a
stop to my purely scientific work for a while, I don't know that I
could be better employed in the interests of science than in trying to
keep the Royal Society straight.
My wife was very much against it at first--and indeed when I was first
spoken to I declared that I would not go on after next St. Andrew's
Day. But a good deal of pressure was brought to bear by some of my
friends, and if the Fellows don't turn me out I shall say with
MacMahon, "J'y suis et j'y reste."
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
We have run down here for a day, but are back to-morrow.
4 Marlborough Place, July 10, 1883.
My dear Spencer,
What an agreeable surprise your letter has been. I have been expecting
the most awful scolding for taking more work, and behold as sweetly
congratulatory an epistle as a man could wish.
Three weeks ago I swore by all my gods that I would not take the offer
at any price, but I suppose the infusion of Theism was too homeopathic
for the oath to bind.
Go on sleeping, my dear friend. If you are so amiable with three
nights, what will you be with three weeks?
What a shame no rain is sent you. You will be speaking about
Providence as I heard of a Yankee doing the other day--"Wal, sir, I
guess he's good; but he's careless."
I think there is a good deal in that view of the government of the
world.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[To his eldest daughter:--]
4 Marlborough Place, July 14, 1883.
Dearest Jess,
I am not sure either whether my accession to the Presidency is a
matter for congratulation. Honour and glory are all very fine, but on
the whole I prefer peace and quietness, and three weeks ago I declared
I would have nothing to do with it.
But there are a good many circumstances in the present state of
affairs which weighed heavily in the scale, and so I made up my mind
to try the experiment.
If I don't suit the office or the office doesn't suit me, there is a
way out every 30th of November.
There was more work connected with the Secretaryship--but there is
more trouble and responsibility and distraction in the Presidency.
I am amused with your account of your way of governing your headstrong
boy. I find the way of governing headstrong men to be very similar,
and I believe it is by practising the method that I get the measure of
success with which people credit me.
But they are often very fractious, and it is a bother for a man who
was meant for a student.
Poor Spottiswoode's death was a great blow to me. Never was a better
man, and I hoped he would stop where he was for the next ten years...
Ever your loving father,
T.H. Huxley.
[He finally decided that the question of standing again in November
must depend on whether this course was likely to cause division in the
ranks of the Society. He earnestly desired to avoid anything like a
contest for scientific honours (As he wrote a little later:--] "I have
never competed in the way of honour in my life, and I cannot allow
myself to be even thought of as in such a position now, where, with
all respect to the honour and glory, they do not appear to me to be in
any way equivalent to the burden. And I am not at all sure that I may
not be able to serve the right cause outside the Chair rather than in
it."); [he was almost morbidly anxious that the temporary choice of
himself should not be interpreted as binding the electors in any way.
I give the following letters to show his sensitiveness on every
question of honour and of public advantage:--]
Brechin Castle, Brechin, N.B., September 19, 1883.
My dear Foster,
We got here yesterday. The Commission does not meet till next week, so
like the historical donkey of Jeshurun I have nothing to do but wax
fat and kick in this excellent pasture.
At odd times lately my mind has been a good deal exercised about the
Royal Society. I am quite willing to go on in the Chair if the Council
and the Society wish it. But it is quite possible that the Council who
chose me when the choice was limited to their own body, might be
disposed to select some one else when the range of choice is extended
to the whole body of the Society. And I am very anxious that the
Council should be made to understand, when the question comes forward
for discussion after the recess, that the fact of present tenancy
constitutes no claim in my eyes.
The difficulty is, how is this to be done? I cannot ask the Council to
do as they please, without reference to me, because I am bound to
assume that that is what they will do, and it would be an impertinence
to assume the contrary.
On the other hand, I should at once decline to be put in nomination
again, if it could be said that by doing so I had practically forced
myself either upon the Council or upon the Society.
Heaven be praised I have not many enemies, but the two or three with
whom I have to reckon don't stick at trifles, and I should not like by
any inadvertance to give them a handle.
I have had some thought of writing a letter to Evans [Sir John Evans,
K.C.B., then Treasurer of the Royal Society.], such as he could read
to the Council at the first meeting in October, at which I need not be
present.
The subject could then be freely discussed, without any voting or
resolution on the minutes, and the officers could let me know whether
in their judgment it is expedient I should be nominated or not.
In the last case I should withdraw on the ground of my other
occupations--which, in fact, is a very real obstacle, and one which
looms large in my fits of blue-devils, which have been more frequent
of late than they should be in holiday time.
Now, will you turn all this over in your mind? Perhaps you might talk
it over with Stokes.
Of course I am very sensible of the honour of being P.R.S., but I
should be much more sensible of the dishonour of being in that place
by a fluke, or in any other way, than by the free choice of the
Council and Society.
In fact I am inclined to think that I am morbidly sensitive on the
last point; and so, instead of acting on my own impulse, as I have
been tempted to do, I submit myself to your worship's wisdom.
I am not sure that I should not have been wiser if I had stuck to my
original intention of holding office only till St. Andrew's Day.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
Secretary of State, Home Department, October 3, 1883.
My dear Foster,
There was an Irish bricklayer who once bet a hodman he would not carry
him up to the top of an exceeding high ladder in his hod. The hod man
did it, but Paddy said, "I had great hopes, now, ye'd let me fall just
about six rounds from the top."
I told the story before when I was up for the School Board, but it is
so applicable to the present case that I can't help coming out with it
again.
If you, dear good hodmen, would have but let me fall!
However, as the thing is to be, it is very pleasant to find Evans and
Williamson and you so hearty in the process of elevation, and in spite
of blue-devils I will do my best to "do my duty in the state of life
I'm called to."
But I believe you never had the advantage of learning the Church
Catechism.
If there is any good in what is done you certainly deserve the credit
of it, for nothing but your letter stopped me from kicking over the
traces at once. Do you see how Evolution is getting made into a bolus
and oiled outside for the ecclesiastical swallow? [This refers to
papers read before the Church Congress that year by Messrs. W.H.
Flower and F. Le Gros Clarke.]
Ever thine,
Thomas, P.R.S.
[The same feeling appears in his anxiety as President to avoid the
slightest appearance of committing the Society to debatable opinions
which he supported as a private individual. Thus, although he had
"personally, politically, and philosophically" no liking for Charles
Bradlaugh, he objected on general grounds to the exclusion of Mrs.
Besant and Miss Bradlaugh from the classes at University College, and
had signed a memorial in their favour. On the other hand, he did not
wish it to be asserted that the Royal Society, through its president,
had thrown its influence into what was really a social and political,
not a scientific question. He writes to Sir M. Foster on July 18:--]
It is very unlucky for me that I signed the memorial requesting the
Council of University College to reconsider their decision about Mrs.
Besant and Miss Bradlaugh when I was quite innocent of any possibility
of holding the P.R.S.
I must go to the meeting of members to-day and define my position in
the matter with more care, under the circumstances.
Mrs. Besant was a student in my teacher's class here last year, and a
very well-conducted lady-like person; but I have never been able to
get hold of the "Fruits of Philosophy," and do not know to what
doctrine she has committed herself.
They seem to have excluded Miss Bradlaugh simply on the noscitur a
sociis principle.
It will need all the dexterity I possess to stand up for the principle
of religious and philosophical freedom, without giving other people a
hold for saying I that have identified myself with Bradlaugh.
[It was the same a little later with the Sunday Society, which had
offered him its presidency. He writes to the Honorary Secretary on
February 11, 1884:--]
I regret that it is impossible for me to accept the office which the
Sunday Society honours me by offering.
It is not merely a disinclination to add to the work which already
falls to my share which leads me to say this. So long as I am
President of the Royal Society, I shall feel bound to abstain from
taking any prominent part in public movements as to the propriety of
which the opinions of the Fellows of the Society differ widely.
My own opinions on the Sunday question are exactly what they were
five-and-twenty years ago. They have not been hid under a bushel, and
I should not have accepted my present office if I had felt that so
doing debarred me from reiterating them whenever it may be necessary
to do so.
But that is a different matter from taking a step which would, in the
eyes of the public, commit the Royal Society, through its President,
to one side of the controversy in which you are engaged, and in which
I, personally, hope you may succeed as warmly as ever I did.
[One other piece of work during the first half of the year remains to
be mentioned, namely, the Rede Lecture, delivered at Cambridge on June
12. This was a discourse on Evolution, based upon the consideration of
the Pearly Nautilus.
He first traced the evolution of the individual from the ovum, and
replied to the three usual objections raised to evolution, that it is
impossible, immoral, and contrary to the argument of design, by
replying to the first, that it does occur in every individual; to the
second, that the morality which opposes itself to truth commits
suicide; and to the third that Paley--the most interesting Sunday
reading allowed him when a boy--had long since answered this
objection.
Then he proceeded to discuss the evolution of the 100 species, all
extinct but two, of Nautilus. The alternative theory of new
construction, a hundred times over, is opposed alike to tradition and
to sane science. On the other hand, evolution, tested by paleontology,
proves a sound hypothesis. The great difficulty of science is in
tracing every event to those causes which are in present operation;
the hypothesis of evolution is analogous to what is going on now.
The summer was passed at Milford, near Godalming, in a house at the
very edge of the heather country which from there stretches unbroken
past Hindhead and into Wolmer Forest. So well did he like the place
that he took it again the following year. But his holiday was like to
have been spoilt at the beginning by the strain of an absurd adventure
which involved much fatigue and more anxiety.]
I came back only last night [he writes to Sir M. Foster on August 1]
from Paris, where I sped on Sunday night, in a horrid state of alarm
from a cursed blundering telegram which led me to believe that Leonard
(you know he got his first class to our great joy) who had left for
the continent on Saturday, was ill or had had an accident.
[It was indeed a hurried journey. On receipt of the telegram, he
rushed to Victoria only to miss the night mail. The booking-clerk
suggested that he should drive to London Bridge, take train to Lewes,
and thence take a fly to Newhaven, where he ought to catch a later
boat. The problem was to catch the London Bridge train. There was
barely a quarter of an hour, but thanks to a good horse and the Sunday
absence of traffic, the thing was done, establishing, I believe, what
the modern mind delights in, a record in cab-driving. Happily the
anxiety at not finding his son in Paris was soon allayed by another
telegram from home, where his son-in-law, the innocent sender of the
original message, had meanwhile arrived. He writes to Sir M.
Foster:--]
Judging by my scrawl, which is worse than usual, I should say the
anxiety had left its mark, but I am none the worse otherwise.
[This was indeed the case. Other letters to Sir M. Foster show that he
was unusually well, perhaps because he was really making holiday to
some extent. Thus on August 16, he writes:--]
This is a lovely country, and I have been reading novels and walking
about for the last four days. I must be all right, wind and limb, for
I walked over twenty miles the day before yesterday, and except a
blister on one heel, was none the worse.
[And again on September 12:--]
Have been very lazy lately, which means that I have done a great many
things that I need not have done, and have left undone those which I
ought to have done. Nowadays that seems to me to be the real
definition of a holiday.
[For once he was not doing very much holiday work, though he was
filing at the Rede Lecture to get it into shape for publication. The
examinations for the Science and Art Department were over, and indeed
he writes to Sir M. Foster:--]
Don't bother your head about the balance--now or hereafter. To tell
you the truth I do so little in the Examiner business that I am
getting ashamed of taking even the retaining fee, and you will do me a
favour if you will ease my conscience.
[A week of fishery business in South Wales and Devon had] "a good deal
of holiday in it." [for the rest:--]
I have just been put on Senate of University of London [a Crown
nomination]. I tried hard to get Lord Granville to let me off--in fact
I told him I could not attend the meetings except now and then, but
there was no escape. I must have a talk with you about what is to be
done there.
Item:
There is a new Fishery Commission that I also strongly objected to,
but had to cave in so far as I agreed to attend some meetings in
latter half of September.
[On this occasion Lord Granville had written back:--
11 Carlton House Terrace, July 28, 1883.
My dear Professor Huxley,
Clay, the great whist player, once made a mistake and said to his
partner, "My brain is softening," the latter answered "Never mind, I
will give you ten thousand pounds down for it, just as it is."
On that principle and backed up by Paget I shall write to Harcourt on
Monday.
Yours sincerely,
Granville.
The Commission of course cut short the stay at Milford, and on
September 12, he writes:--]
We shall leave this on Friday as my wife has some fal-lals to look
after before we start for the north on Monday.
The worst of it is that it is not at all certain that the Commission
will meet and do any work. However I am pledged to go, and I daresay
that Brechin Castle is a very pleasant place to stay in.
[Lastly, he was thinking over the obituary notice of Darwin which he
had undertaken to write for the Royal Society--though it did not
appear till 1888--that on F. Balfour being written by Sir M. Foster.]
Highcroft House, Milford, Godalming, August 27, 1883.
My dear Foster,
I do not see anything to add or alter to what you have said about
Balfour, except to get rid of that terrible word "urinogenital," which
he invented, and I believe I once adopted, out of mere sympathy I
suppose.
Darwin is on my mind, and I will see what can be done here by and by.
Up to the present I have been filing away at the Rede Lecture. I
believe that getting things into shape takes me more and more trouble
as I get older--whether it is a loss of faculty or an increase of
fastidiousness I can't say--but at any rate it costs me more time and
trouble to get things finished--and when they are done I should prefer
burning to publishing them.
Haven't you any suggestions to offer for Anniversary address? I think
the Secretaries ought to draw it up, like a Queen's speech.
Mind we have a talk some day about University of London. I suppose you
want an English Sorbonne. I have thought of it at times, but the
Philistines are strong.
Weather jolly, but altogether too hot for anything but lying on the
grass "under the tegmination of the patulous fage," as the poet
observes.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[The remaining letters of this year are for the most part on Royal
Society business, some of which, touching the anniversary dinner, may
be quoted:--]
4 Marlborough Place, November 10, 1883.
My dear Foster,
...I have been trying to get some political and other swells to come
to the dinner. Lord Mayor is coming--thought I would ask him on
account of City and Guilds business--Lord Chancellor, probably,
Courtney, M.P., promised, and I made the greatest blunder I ever made
in all my life by thoughtlessly writing to ask Chamberlain (!!!)
utterly forgetting the row with Tyndall. [Concerning the Lighthouses.]
By the mercy of Providence he can't come this year, though I must ask
him next (if I am not kicked out for my sins before that), as he is
anxious to come. Science ought to be in league with the Radicals...
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[He had made prompt confession as soon as he discovered his mistake,
to Tyndall himself, who ultimately came to the dinner and proposed the
health of his old friend Hirst.]
4 Marlborough Place, November 9, 1883.
My dear Tyndall,
I have been going to write to you for two or three days to ask you to
propose Hirst's health as Royal Medallist on the 30th November. I am
sure your doing so would give an extra value to the medal to him.
But now I realise the position of those poor devils I have seen in
lunatic asylums and who believed they have committed the unforgivable
sin. It came upon me suddenly in Waterloo Place this evening, that I
had done so; and I went straight to the Royal Institution to make
confession, and if possible get absolution. But I heard you had gone
to Hindhead, and so I write.
Yesterday I was sending some invitations to the dinner on the 30th,
and thinking to please the Society I made a shot at some ministers.
The only two I know much about are Harcourt and Chamberlain, and the
devil (in whom I now firmly believe) put it into my head to write to
both.
The enormous stupidity of which I had been guilty in asking
Chamberlain under the circumstances, and the sort of construction you
and others might put upon it, never entered my head till this
afternoon. It really made me ill, and I went straight to find you. If
Providence is good to me the letter will miscarry and he won't come.
But anyhow I want you to know that I have been idiotically stupid, and
that I shall wish the Presidency and the dinner and everything
connected with it at the bottom of the sea, if you are as much
disgusted with me as you have a perfect right to be.
Ever yours faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[The following refers to the Tyneside Sunday Lecture Society at
Newcastle, which had invited him to become one of its
vice-presidents:--]
4 Marlborough Place, N.W., December 30, 1883.
My dear Morley,
The Newcastle people wrote to me some time ago telling me that Sir W.
Armstrong was going to be their President. [The actual words of the
Secretary were "We have asked Sir W. Armstrong to be President," and
Huxley was mistaken in supposing this intimation to imply that, as
generally happens in such cases, Sir William had previously intimated
his willingness to accept the position if formally asked.] Armstrong
is an old friend of mine, so I wrote to him to make inquiries. He told
me that he was not going to be President, and knew nothing about the
people who were getting up the Society. So I declined to have anything
to do with it.
However, the case is altered now that you are in the swim. You have no
gods to swear by, unfortunately; but if you will affirm, in the name
of X, that under no circumstances shall I be called upon to do
anything, they may have my name among the V.-P.'s and much good may it
do them.
All our good wishes to you and yours. The great thing one has to wish
for as time goes on is vigour as long as one lives, and death as soon
as vigour flags.
It is a curious thing that I find my dislike to the thought of
extinction increasing as I get older and nearer the goal.
It flashes across me at all sorts of times with a sort of horror that
in 1900 I shall probably know no more of what is going on than I did
in 1800. I had sooner be in hell a good deal--at any rate in one of
the upper circles where the climate and company are not too trying. I
wonder if you are plagued in this way.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[The following letters, to his family or to intimate friends, are in
lighter vein. The first is to Sir M. Foster; the concluding item of
information in reply to several inquiries. The Royal Society wished
some borings made in Egypt to determine the depth of the stratum of
Nile mud:--]
The Egyptian exploration society is wholly archaeological--at least
from the cut of it I have no doubt it is so--and they want all their
money to find out the pawnbrokers' shops which Israel kept in Pithom
and Rameses--and then went off with the pledges.
This is the real reason why Pharaoh and his host pursued them; and
then Moses and Aaron bribed the post-boys to take out the linch pins.
That is the real story of the Exodus--as detailed in a recently
discovered papyrus which neither Brugsch nor Maspero have as yet got
hold of.
[To his youngest daughter:--]
4 Marlborough Place, N.W., April 12, 1883.
Dearest Pabelunza,
I was quite overcome to-day to find that you had vanished without a
parting embrace to your "faded but fascinating" parent. [A fragment of
feminine conversation overheard at the Dublin meeting of the British
Association, 1878. "Oh, there comes Professor Huxley: faded, but still
fascinating."] I clean forgot you were going to leave this peaceful
village for the whirl of Gloucester dissipation this morning--and the
traces of weeping on your visage, which should have reminded me of our
imminent parting, were absent.
My dear, I should like to have given you some good counsel. You are
but a simple village maiden--don't be taken by the appearance of
anybody. Consult your father--inclosing photograph and measurement (in
inches)--in any case of difficulty.
Also give my love to the matron your sister, and tell her to look
sharp after you. Treat her with more respect than you do your
venerable P.--whose life will be gloom hidden by a film of heartless
jests till you return.
Item.--Kisses to Ria and Co.
Your desolated Pater.
[To his eldest daughter:--]
4 Marlborough Place, May 6, 1883.
Dearest Jess,
Best thanks for your good wishes--considering all things, I am a hale
old gentleman. But I had to speak last night at the Academy dinner,
and either that or the quantity of cigars I smoked, following the bad
example of our friend "Wales," has left me rather shaky to-day. It was
trying, because Jack's capital portrait was hanging just behind
me--and somebody remarked that it was a better likeness of me than I
was. If you begin to think of that it is rather confusing.
I am grieved to have such accounts of Ethel, and have lectured her
accordingly. She threatens reprisals on you--and altogether is in a
more saucy and irrepressible state than when she left.
M-- is still in bed, though better--I am afraid she won't be able to
go to Court next week. You see we are getting grand.
I hear great accounts of the children (Ria and Buzzer) and mean to cut
out T'other Governor when you bring them up.
As we did not see Fred the other day, the family is inclined to think
that the salmon disagreed with him!
Ever your loving father,
T.H. Huxley.
4 Marlborough Place, May 10, 1883.
My dear Mrs. Tyndall,
If you will give me a bit of mutton at one o'clock I shall be very
much your debtor, but as I have business to attend to afterwards at
the Home Office I must stipulate that my intellect be not imperilled
by those seductive evil genii who are apt to make their appearance at
your lunch table. [This is accompanied by a sketch of a champagne
bottle in the character of a demon.]
M. is getting better, but I cannot let her be out at night yet. She
thinks she is to be allowed to go to the International Exhibition
business on Saturday; but if the temperature does not rise very
considerably I shall have two words to say to that.
Ever yours very sincerely,
T.H. Huxley.
I shall be alone. Do you think that I am "subdued to that I work in,"
and like an oyster, carry my brood about beneath my mantle?