T.H. Huxley.

To Sir J.D. Hooker.

4 Marlborough Place, December 29, 1887.

Where is the fullest information about distribution of Coniferae? Of course I have looked at "Genera Plantarum" and De Candolle.

I have been trying to make out whether structure or climate or paleontology throw any light on their distribution--and am drawing complete blank. Why the deuce are there no Conifers but Podocarpus and Widringtonias in all Africa south of the Sahara? And why the double deuce are about three-quarters of the genera huddled together in j.a.pan and northern China?

I am puzzling over this group because the paleontological record is comparatively so good.

I am beginning to suspect that present distribution is an affair rather of denudation than migration.

Sequoia! Taxodium! Widringtonia! Araucaria! all in Europe, in Mesozoic and Tertiary.

[The following letters to Mr. Herbert Spencer were written as sets of proofs of his Autobiography arrived. That to Sir J. Skelton was to thank him for his book on "Maitland of Lethington," the Scotch statesman of the time of Queen Mary.]

January 18, 1887.

[The first part of this letter is given above.]

My dear Spencer,

I see that your proofs have been in my hands longer than I thought for.

But you may have seen that I have been "starring" at the Mansion House...

I am immensely tickled with your review of your own book. That is something most originally Spencerian. I have hardly any suggestions to make, except in what you say about the "Rattlesnake" work and my position on board.

Her proper business was the survey of the so-called "inner pa.s.sage"

between the Barrier Reef and the east coast of Australia; the New Guinea work was a hors d'oeuvre, and dealt with only a small part of the southern coast.

Macgillivray was naturalist--I was actually a.s.sistant-Surgeon and nothing else. But I was recommended to Stanley by Sir John Richardson, my senior officer at Haslar, on account of my scientific proclivities.

But scientific work was no part of my duty. How odd it is to look back through the vista of years! Reading your account of me, I had the sensation of studying a fly in amber. I had utterly forgotten the particular circ.u.mstance that brought us together. Considering what wilful tykes we both are (you particularly), I think it is a great credit to both of us that we are firmer friends now than we were then.

Your kindly words have given me much pleasure.

This is a deuce of a long letter to inflict upon you, but there is more coming. The other day a Miss --, a very good, busy woman of whom I and my wife have known a little for some years, sent me a proposal of the committee of a body calling itself the London Liberty League (I think) that I should accept the position of one of three honorary something or others, you and Mrs. Fawcett being the other two.

Now you may be sure that I should be glad enough to be a.s.sociated with you in anything; but considering the innumerable battles we have fought over education, vaccination, and so on, it seemed to me that if the programme of the League were wide enough to take us both for figure-heads, it must be so elastic as to verge upon infinite extensibility; and that one or other of us would be in a false position.

So I wrote to Miss -- to that effect, and the matter then dropped.

Misrepresentation is so rife in this world that it struck me I had better tell you exactly what happened.

On the whole, your account of your own condition is encouraging; not going back is next door to going forward. Anyhow, you have contrived to do a lot of writing.

We are all pretty flourishing, and if my wife does not get worn out with cooks falling ill and other domestic worries, I shall be content.

Now this really is the end.

Ever yours very truly,

T.H. Huxley.

4 Marlborough Place, London, N.W., March 7, 1887.

My dear Skelton [This letter is one of the twelve from T.H.H. already published by Sir John Skelton in his "Table Talk of Shirley" page 295 sq.],

Wretch that I am, I see that I have never had the grace to thank you for "Maitland of Lethington" which reached me I do not choose to remember how long ago, and which I read straight off with lively satisfaction.

There is a paragraph in your preface, which I meant to have charged you with having plagiarised from an article of mine, which had not appeared when I got your book. In that Hermitage of yours, you are up to any Esotericobuddhistotelepathic dodge!

It is about the value of practical discipline to historians. Half of them know nothing of life, and still less of government and the ways of men.

I am quite useless, but have vitality enough to kick and scratch a little when prodded.

I am at present engaged on a series of experiments on the thickness of skin of that wonderful little wind-bag --. The way that second rate amateur poses as a man of science, having authority as a sort of papistical Scotch dominie, bred a minister, but stickit, really "rouses my corruption." What a good phrase that is. I am cursed with a lot of it, and any fool can strike ile.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Please remember me very kindly to Mrs. Skelton.

11 Eversfield Place, Hastings, November 18, 1887.

My dear Spencer,

I was very glad to get your letter this morning. I heard all about you from Hirst before I left London, now nearly a month ago, and I promised myself that instead of bothering you with a letter I would run over from here and pay you a visit.

Unfortunately, my wife, who had been ill more or less ever since we left Arolla and came here on Clark's advice, had an attack one night, which frightened me a good deal, though it luckily turned out to arise from easily remediable causes.

Under these circ.u.mstances you will understand how I have not made my proposed journey to Brighton.

I am rejoiced to hear of your move. I believe in the skill of Dr. B.

Potter and her understanding of the case more than I do in all the doctors and yourself put together. Please offer my respectful homage to that eminent pract.i.tioner.

You see people won't let me alone, and I have had to tell the Duke to "keep on board his own ship," as the Quaker said, once more. I seek peace, but do not ensue it.

Send any quant.i.ty of proofs, they are a good sign. By the way, we move to 85 Marina, St. Leonards, to-morrow.

Wife sends her kind regards.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

85 Marina, St. Leonards, December 1887.

My dear Spencer,