You will see a letter from him in this week's "Athenaeum."

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

CHAPTER 1.17.

1861-1863.

[It has been seen that the addition of journalistic work in science to the ma.s.s of original research and teaching work upon which Huxley was engaged, called forth a remonstrance from both Lyell and Darwin. To Hooker it seemed still more serious that he was dividing his allegiance, and going far afield in philosophy, instead of concentrating himself upon natural science. He writes:--

I am sorry to hear that you are so poorly, and wish I could help you to sit down and work quietly at pure science. You have got into a whirlpool, and should stroke vigorously at the proper angle, not attempt to breast the whole force of the current, nor yet give in to it. Do take the counsel of a quiet looker on and withdraw to your books and studies in pure Natural History; let modes of thought alone. You may make a very good naturalist, or a very good metaphysician (of that I know nothing, don't despise me), but you have neither time nor place for both.

However, it must be remarked that this love of philosophy, not recently acquired either, was only part of the pa.s.sion for general principles underlying the facts of science which had always possessed him. And the time expended upon it was not directly taken from the hours of scientific work; he would read in bed through the small hours of the night, when sleep was slow in coming to him. In this way he got through an immense amount of philosophy in the course of several years. Not that he could "state the views of so and so" upon any given question, or desired such kind of knowledge; he wished to find out and compare with his own the answers which other thinkers gave to the problems which interested himself.

A gentler reproof of this time touches his handwriting, which was never of the most legible, so that his foreign correspondents in particular sometimes complained. Haeckel used to get his difficulties deciphered by his colleague Gegenbaur. I cannot forbear quoting the delicate remonstrance of Professor Lacaze du Thiers, and the flattering remedy he proposed:--

March 14.

Je lis l'Anglais imprime, mais vos ecritures anglaises sont si rapides, qu'il m'est quelquefois difficile de m'en sortir. On me dit que vous ecrivez si bien le francais que je crois que je vous lirais bien mieux dans ma langue!

On his return from examining at Dublin, he again looked over proofs for Mr. Spencer.]

Jermyn Street, August 3, 1861.

My dear Spencer,

I have been absent on a journey to Dublin and elsewhere [Visiting Sir Philip Egerton at Oulton Park.] nearly all this week, and hence your note and proof did not reach me till yesterday. I have but just had time to glance through the latter, and I need hardly say how heartily I concur in its general tenor. I have, however, marked one or two pa.s.sages which I think require some qualification. Then, at page 272, the fact that the vital manifestations of plants depend as entirely as those of animals upon the fall towards stable equilibrium of the elements of a complex protein compound is not sufficiently prominent. It is not so much that plants are deoxidisers and animals oxidisers, as that plants are manufacturers and animals consumers. It is true that plants manufacture a good deal of non-nitrogenous produce in proportion to the nitrogenous, but it is the latter which is chiefly useful to the animal consumer and not the former. This point is a very important one, which I have never seen clearly and distinctly put--the prettiness of Dumas'

circulation of the elements having seduced everybody.

Of course this in no way affects the principle of what you say. The statements which I have marked at page 276 and 278 should have their authorities given, I think. I should hardly like to commit myself to them absolutely.

You will, if my memory does not mislead me, find authority for my note at page 283 in Stephenson's life. I think old George Stephenson brought out his views at breakfast at Sir R. Peel's when Buckland was there.

These are all the points that strike me, and I do not keep your proof any longer (I send it by the same post as this note), because I fear you may be inconvenienced by the delay.

Tyndall is unfortunately gone to Switzerland, so that I cannot get you his comments. Whether he might have picked holes in any detail or not I do not know, but I know his opinions sufficiently well to make sure in his agreement with the general argument. In fact a favourite problem of his is--Given the molecular forces in a mutton chop, deduce Hamlet or Faust therefrom. He is confident that the Physics of the Future will solve this easily.

I am grieved to hear such a poor account of your health; I believe you will have to come at last to the heroic remedy of matrimony, and if "gynopathy" were a mode of treatment that could be left off if it did not suit the const.i.tution, I should decidedly recommend it.

But it's worse than opium-eating--once begun and you must go on, and so, though I ascribe my own good condition mainly to the care my wife takes of me, I dare not recommend it to you, lest perchance you should get hold of the wrong medicine.

Beyond spending a night awake now and then I am in very good order, and I am going to spend my vacation in a spasmodic effort to lick the "Manual" into shape and work off some other arrears.

My wife is very fairly well, and, I trust, finally freed from all the symptoms which alarmed me so much. I dread the coming round of September for her again, but it must be faced.

The babbies are flourishing; and beyond the facts that we have a lunatic neighbour on one side and an empty house on the other, that it has cost me about twice as much to get into my house as I expected, that the cistern began to leak and spoil a ceiling, and such other small drawbacks, the new house is a decided success.

I forget whether I gave you the address, which is--

26 Abbey Place, St. John's Wood.

You had better direct to me there, as after the 10th of this month I shall not be here for six weeks.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[October shows an unusual entry in his diary; the sacrifice of a working evening to hear Jenny Lind sing. Fond though he was of music, as those may remember who ever watched his face at the Sunday evening gatherings in Marlborough Place in the later seventies, when there was sure to be at least a little good music or singing either from his daughters or some of the guests, he seldom could spare the time for concert-going or theatre-going, and the occasional notes of his bachelor days, "to the opera with Spencer," had ceased as his necessary occupations grew more engrossing.

This year his friend Hooker moved to Kew to act as second in command to his father, Sir William Hooker, the director of the Botanical Gardens.

This move made meetings between the two friends, except at clubs and societies, more difficult, and was one of the immediate causes of the foundation of the x Club. It is this move which is referred to in the following letters; the "poor client" being the wife of an old messmate of his on the "Rattlesnake":--]

Jermyn Street, November 17.

My dear Hooker,

My wife wrote to yours yesterday, the enclosed note explaining the kitchen-revolution which, it seems, must delay our meeting. When she had done, however, she did not know where to direct it, and I am no wiser, so I send it to you.

It's a horrid nuisance and I have sworn a few, but that will not cook the dinner, however much it may prepare me for being cooked elsewhere.

To complete my disgust at things in general, my wife is regularly knocked up with dining out twice this week, though it was only in the quietest way. I shall have to lock her up altogether.

X-- has made a horrid mess of it, and I am sorry to say, from what I know of him, that I cannot doubt where the fault lies. The worst of it is that he has a wife and three children over here, left without a penny or any means of support. The poor woman wrote to me the other day, and when I went to see her I found her at the last shilling and contemplating the workhouse as her next step. She has brothers in Australia, and it appeared to me that the only way to do her any good was to get her out. She cannot starve there, and there will be more hope for her children than an English poor-house. I am going to see if the Emigration Commissioners will do anything for her, as of course it is desirable to cut down the cost of exportation to the smallest amount.

It is most lamentable that a man of so much ability should have so utterly d.a.m.ned himself as X-- has, but he is hopelessly Celtic.

I shall be at the Phil. Club next Thursday.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

14 Waverley Place, Monday morning [November 1861].

My dear Hooker,

The obstinate manner in which Mrs. Hooker and you go on refusing to give any address leads us to believe that you are dwelling peripatetically in a "Wan" with green door and bra.s.s knocker somewhere on Wormwood Scrubbs, and that "Kew" is only a blind. So you see I am obliged to inclose Mrs.

Hooker's epistle to you.

You shall have your own way about the dinner, though we shall have triumphed over all domestic difficulties by that time, and the first lieutenant scorns the idea of being "worrited" about anything. I only grieve it is such a mortal long way for you to come.

I could find it in my heart to scold you well for your generous aid to my poor client. I a.s.sure you I told you all about the case because it was fresh in my mind, and without the least notion of going to you for that kind of aid. May it come back to you in some good shape or other.

I find it is no use to look for help from the emigration people, but I have no fear of being able to get the 50 pounds sterling which will send them out by the "Walter Hood."

Would it be fair to apply to Bell in such a case? I will have a talk to you about it at the Phil. Club.

Ever, my dear Hooker, yours faithfully,