Books: The Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley Volume 1

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Cabanis and Berkeley (I speak of them simply as types of schools) are
both asses, the only difference being that one is a black donkey and the
other a white one.

This universe is, I conceive, like to a great game being played out, and
we poor mortals are allowed to take a hand. By great good fortune the
wiser among us have made out some few of the rules of the game, as at
present played. We call them "Laws of Nature," and honour them because
we find that if we obey them we win something for our pains. The cards
are our theories and hypotheses, the tricks our experimental
verifications. But what sane man would endeavour to solve this problem:
given the rules of a game and the winnings, to find whether the cards
are made of pasteboard or goldleaf? Yet the problem of the
metaphysicians is to my mind no saner.

If you tell me that an Ape differs from a Man because the latter has a
soul and the ape has not, I can only say it may be so; but I should
uncommonly like to know how either that the ape has not one or that the
man has.

And until you satisfy me as to the soundness of your method of
investigation, I must adhere to what seems to my mind a simpler form of
notation--i.e. to suppose that all phenomena have the same substratum
(if they have any), and that soul and body, or mental and physical
phenomena, are merely diverse manifestations of that hypothetical
substratum. In this way, it seems to me, I obey the rule which works so
well in practice, of always making the simplest possible suppositions.

On the other hand, if you are of a different opinion, and find it more
convenient to call the x which underlies (hypothetically) mental
phenomena, Soul, and the x which underlies (hypothetically) physical
phenomena, Body, well and good. The two-fluid theory and the one-fluid
theory of electricity both accounted for the phenomena up to a certain
extent, and both were probably wrong. So it may be with the theories
that there is only one x in nature or two x's or three x's.

For, if you will think upon it, there are only four possible ontological
hypotheses now that Polytheism is dead.

1. There is no x = Atheism on Berkeleyan principles.

2. There is only one x = Materialism or Pantheism, according as you turn
it heads or tails.

3. There are two x's: Spirit and Matter = Speculators incertae sedis.

4. There are three x's: God, Souls, Matter = Orthodox Theologians.

To say that I adopt any one of those hypotheses, as a representation of
fact, would to my mind be absurd; but Number 2 is the one I can work
with best. To return to my metaphor, it chimes in better with the rules
of the game of nature than any other of the four possibilities, to my
mind.

But who knows when the great Banker may sweep away table and cards and
all, and set us learning a new game? What will become of all my poor
counters then? It may turn out that I am quite wrong, and that there are
no x's or 20 x's.

I am glad you appreciate the rich absurdities of the new doctrine of
spontogenesis [?]. Against the doctrine of spontaneous generation in the
abstract I have nothing to say. Indeed it is a necessary corollary from
Darwin's views if legitimately carried out, and I think Owen smites him
(Darwin) fairly for taking refuge in "Pentateuchal" phraseology when he
ought to have done one of two things--(a) give up the problem, (b) admit
the necessity of spontaneous generation. It is the very passage in
Darwin's book to which, as he knows right well, I have always strongly
objected. The x of science and the x of genesis are two different x's,
and for any sake don't let us confuse them together. Maurice has sent me
his book. I have read it, but I find myself utterly at a loss to
comprehend his point of view.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[The following letter is interesting, as showing his continued interest
in the question of skull structure, as well as his relation to his
friend and fellow-worker, Dr. W.K. Parker.]

Jermyn Street, March 18, 1863.

My dear Parker,

Any conclusion that I have reached will seem to me all the better based
for knowing that you have been near or at it, and I am therefore right
glad to have your letter. If I had only time, nothing would delight me
more than to go over your preparations, but these Hunterian Lectures are
about the hardest bit of work I ever took in hand, and I am obliged to
give every minute to them.

By and by I will gladly go with you over your vast material.

Did you not some time ago tell me that you considered the Y-shaped bone
(so-called presphenoid) in the Pike to be the true basisphenoid? If so,
let me know before lecture to-morrow, that I may not commit theft
unawares.

I have arrived at that conclusion myself from the anatomical relations
of the bone in question to the brain and nerves.

I look upon the proposition opisthotis = turtle's "occipital externe" =
Perch's Rocher (Cuvier) as the one thing needful to clear up the unity
of structure of the bony cranium; and it shall be counted unto me as a
great sin if I have helped to keep you back from it. The thing has been
dawning upon me ever since I read Kolliker's book two summers ago, but I
have never had time to work it out.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[The following extracts from a letter to Hooker and a letter to Darwin
describe the pressure of his work at this time.]

1863.

My dear Hooker,

...I would willingly send a paper to the Linnean this year if I could,
but I do not see how it is practicable. I lecture five times a week from
now till the middle of February. I then have to give eighteen lectures
at the College of Surgeons--six on classification, and twelve on the
vertebrate skeleton. I might write a paper on this new Glyptodon, with
some eighteen to twenty plates. A preliminary notice has already gone to
the Royal Society. I have a decade of fossil fish in progress; a fellow
in the country WILL keep on sending me splendid new Labyrinthodonts from
the coal, and that d--d manual must come out.

Ayez pitie de moi.

T.H. Huxley.

Jermyn Street, July 2, 1863.

My Dear Darwin,

I am horribly loth to say that I cannot do anything you want done; and
partly for that reason and partly because we have been very busy here
with some new arrangements during the last day or two, I did not at once
reply to your note.

I am afraid, however, I cannot undertake any sort of new work. In spite
of working like a horse (or if you prefer it, like an ass), I find
myself scandalously in arrear, and I shall get into terrible hot water
if I do not clear off some things that have been hanging about me for
months and years.

If you will send me up the specimens, however, I will ask Flower (whom I
see constantly) to examine them for you. The examination will be no
great trouble, and I am ashamed to make a fuss about it, but I have
sworn a big oath to take no fresh work, great or small, until certain
things are done.

I wake up in the morning with somebody saying in my ear, "A is not done,
and B is not done, and C is not done, and D is not done," etc., and a
feeling like a fellow whose duns are all in the street waiting for him.
By the way, you ask me what I am doing now, so I will just enumerate
some of the A, B, and C's aforesaid.

A. Editing lectures on Vertebrate skull and bringing them out in the
"Medical Times."

B. Editing and re-writing lectures on Elementary Physiology, just
delivered here and reported as I went along. ([Delivered on Friday
evenings from April to June at Jermyn Street, and reported in the
"Medical Times." They formed the basis of his well-known little book on
"Elementary Physiology," published 1866. He writes on April 22:--]
"Macmillan has just been with me, and I am let in for a school book on
physiology based on these lectures of mine. Money arrangements not quite
fixed yet, but he is a good fellow, and will not do me unnecessarily.")

C. Thinking of my course of twenty-four lectures on the Mammalia at the
College of Surgeons in next spring, and making investigations bearing on
the same.

D. Thinking of and working at a "Manual of Comparative Anatomy" (may it
be d--d); which I have had in hand these seven years.

E. Getting heaps of remains of new Labyrinthodonts from the Glasgow
coalfield, which have to be described.

F. Working at a memoir on Glyptodon based on a new and almost entire
specimen at the College of Surgeons.

G. Preparing a new decade upon Fossil fishes for this place.

H. Knowing that I ought to have written long ago a description of a most
interesting lot of Indian fossils sent to me by Oldham.

I. Being blown up by Hooker for doing nothing for the "Natural History
Review."

K. Being bothered by sundry editors just to write articles "which you
know you can knock off in a moment."

L. Consciousness of having left unwritten letters which ought to have
been written long ago, especially to C. Darwin.

M. General worry and botheration. Ten or twelve people taking up my time
all day about their own affairs.

N. O. P. Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y. Z.

Societies.

Clubs.

Dinners, evening parties, and all the apparatus for wasting time called
"Society." Colensoism and botheration about Moses...Finally pestered to
death in public and private because I am supposed to be what they call a
"Darwinian."

If that is not enough, I could exhaust the Greek alphabet for heads in
addition.

I am glad to hear that Wyman thinks well of my book, as he is very
competent to judge. I hear it is republished in America, but I suppose I
shall get nothing out of it. [In this expectation, however, he was
agreeably disappointed by the action of D. Appleton and Company.

An undated letter to Kingsley, who had suggested that he should write an
article on Prayer, belongs probably to the autumn of 1863:--]

I should like very much to write such an article as you suggest, but I
am very doubtful about undertaking it for "Fraser." Anything I could say
would go to the root of praying altogether, for inasmuch as the whole
universe is governed, so far as I can see, in the same way, and the
moral world is as much governed by laws as the physical--whatever
militates against asking for one sort of blessing seems to me to tell
with the same force against asking for any other.

Not that I mean for a moment to say that prayer is illogical, for if the
whole universe is ruled by fixed laws it is just as logically absurd for
me to ask you to answer this letter as to ask the Almighty to alter the
weather. The whole argument is an "old foe with a new face," the freedom
and necessity question over again.

If I were to write about the question I should have to develop all this
side of the problem, and then having shown that logic, as always happens
when it is carried to extremes, leaves us bombinantes in vacuo, I should
appeal to experience to show that prayers of this sort are not answered,
and to science to prove that if they were they would do a great deal of
harm.

But you know this would never do for the atmosphere of "Fraser." It
would be much better suited for an article in my favourite organ, the
wicked "Westminster."

However, to say truth, I do not see how I am to undertake anything fresh
just at present. I have promised an article for "Macmillan" ages ago;
and Masson scowls at me whenever we meet. I am afraid to go through the
Albany lest Cook should demand certain reviews of books which have been
long in my hands. I am just completing a long memoir for the Linnean
Society; a monograph on certain fossil reptiles must be finished before
the new year. My lectures have begun, and there is a certain "Manual"
looming in the background. And to crown all, these late events [the
death of his brother] have given me such a wrench that I feel I must be
prudent.

[The following reference to Robert Lowe, afterwards Lord Sherbrooke, has
a quasi-prophetic interest:--]

May 7.

Dined at the Smiths' last night. [Dr. (afterwards Sir William) Smith, of
dictionary fame.] Lowe was to have been there, but had a dinner-party of
his own...I have come to the conviction that our friend Bob is a most
admirable, well-judging statesman, for he says I am the only man fit to
be at the head of the British Museum [i.e. of the Natural History
Collections.], and that if he had his way he would put me there.

[Years afterwards, on Sir R. Owen's retirement, he was offered the post,
but declined it, as he greatly disliked the kind of work. At the same
time, he pointed out to the Minister who made the offer that the man of
all others for the post would be the late distinguished holder of it,
Sir W.H. Flower, a suggestion happily acted on.

Early in August a severe loss befell him in the sudden death of his
brother George, who had been his close friend ever since he had returned
from Australia, who had given him all the help and sympathy in his
struggles that could be given by a man of the world without special
interests in science or literature. With brilliancy enough to have won
success if he had had patience to ensure it, he was not only a pleasant
companion, a "clubbable man" in Johnson's phrase, but a friend to trust.
The two households had seen much of one another; the childless couple
regarded their brother's children almost as their own. Thus a real gap
was made in the family circle, and the trouble was not lessened by the
fact that George Huxley's affairs were left in great confusion, and his
brother not only spent a great deal of time in looking after the
interests of the widow, but took upon himself certain obligations in
order to make things straight, with the result that he was even
compelled to part with his Royal Medal, the gold of which was worth 50
pounds sterling.]

CHAPTER 1.18.

1864.

[The year 1864 was much like 1863. The Hunterian Lectures were still
part of his regular work. The Fishery Commission claimed a large portion
of his time. from March 28 to April 2 he was in Cornwall; on May 7 at
Shoreham; from July 24 to September 9 visiting the coasts of Scotland
and Ireland. The same pressure of work continued. He published four
papers on paleontological or anatomical subjects in the "Natural History
Review" (On "Cetacean Fossils termed Ziphius by Cuvier," in the
"Transactions of the Geological Society"; in those of the "Zoological,"
papers on "Arctocebus Calabarensis" and "The Structure of the Stomach in
Desmodus Rufus"; and on the "Osteology of the Genus Glyptodon," in the
"Philosophical Transactions."), he wrote "Further Remarks upon the Human
Remains from the Neanderthal," and later, dealing with "Criticisms on
the 'Origin of Species'" ("Collected Essays" 2 page 80 "Darwiniana"), he
gently but firmly dispersed several misconceptions of his old friend
Kolliker as to the plain meaning of the book; and ridiculed the
pretentious ignorance of M. Flourens' dicta upon the same subject; while
in the winter he delivered a course of lectures to working men on "The
Various Races of Mankind," a choice of subject which shows that his
chief interest at that time lay in Ethnology.]

Jermyn Street, January 16, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I have had no news of you for a long time, but I earnestly hope you are
better.

Have you any objection to putting your name to Flower's certificate for
the Royal Society herewith inclosed? It will please him much if you
will; and I go bail for his being a thoroughly good man in all senses of
the word--which, as you know, is more than I would say for everybody.

Don't write any reply; but Mrs. Darwin perhaps will do me the kindness
to send the thing on to Lyell as per enclosed envelope. I will write him
a note about it.

We are all well, barring customary colds and various forms of infantile
pip. As for myself, I am flourishing like a green bay tree (appropriate
comparison, Soapy Sam would observe), in consequence of having utterly
renounced societies and society since October.

I have been working like a horse, however, and shall work "horser" as my
college lectures begin in February.

Tout a vous,

T.H. Huxley.

Royal School of Mines, Jermyn Street, April 18, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I was rejoiced to see your handwriting again, so much so that I shall
not scold you for undertaking the needless exertion (as it's my duty to
do) of writing to thank me for my book. [Hunterian Lectures on Anatomy.]

I thought the last lecture would be nuts for you, but it is really
shocking. There is not the smallest question that Owen wrote both the
article "Oken" and the "Archetype Book," which appeared in its second
edition in French--why, I know not. I think that if you will look at
what I say again, there will not be much doubt left in your mind as to
the identity of the writer of the two.

The news you give of yourself is most encouraging; but pray don't think
of doing any work again yet. Careful as I have been during this last
winter not to burn the candle at both ends, I have found myself, since
the pressure of my lectures ceased, in considerable need of quiet, and I
have been lazy accordingly.

I don't know that I fear, with you, caring too much for science--for
there are lots of other things I should like to go into as well, but I
do lament more and more as time goes on, the necessity of becoming more
and more absorbed in one kind of work, a necessity which is created for
any one in my position, partly by one's reputation, and partly by one's
children. For directly a man gets the smallest repute in any branch of
science, the world immediately credits him with knowing about ten times
as much as he really does, and he becomes bound in common honesty to do
his best to climb up to his reputed place. And then the babies are a
devouring fire, eating up the present and discounting the future; they
are sure to want all the money one can earn, and to be the better for
all the credit one can win.

However, I should fare badly without the young monkeys. Your pet Marian
is almost as shy as ever, though she has left off saying "can't," by the
way.

My wife is wonderfully well. As I tell her, Providence has appointed her
to take care of me when I am broken down and decrepit.

I hope you can say as much of Mrs. Darwin. Pray give her my kind
regards.

And believe me, ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[A letter to his sister gives a sketch of his position at this time,
speaking of which he says to Dr. (afterwards Sir J.) Fayrer,] "You and I
have travelled a long way, in all senses, since you settled my career
for me on the steps of the Charing Cross Hospital." [It must be
remembered that his sister was living in Tennessee, and that her son at
fifteen was serving in the Confederate army.]

Jermyn Street, May 4, 1864.

You will want to know something about my progress in the world. Well, at
this moment I am Professor of Natural History here, and Hunterian
Professor of Comparative Anatomy at the College of Surgeons. The former
is the appointment I have held since 1855; the latter chair I was asked
to take last year, and now I have delivered two courses in that famous
black gown with the red facings which the doctor will recollect very
well. What with the duties of these two posts and other official and
non-official business, I am worked to the full stretch of my powers, and
sometimes a little beyond them; though hitherto I have stood the wear
and tear very well.

I believe I have won myself a pretty fair place in science, but in
addition to that I have the reputation (of which, I fear, you will not
approve) of being a great heretic and a savage controversialist always
in rows. To the accusation of heresy I fear I must plead guilty; but the
second charge proceeds only, I do assure you, from a certain
unconquerable hatred of lies and humbug which I cannot get over.

I have read all you tell me about the south with much interest and with
the warmest sympathy, so far as the fate of the south affects you. But I
am in the condition of most thoughtful Englishmen. My heart goes with
the south, and my head with the north.

I have no love for the Yankees, and I delight in the energy and
self-sacrifice of your people; but for all that, I cannot doubt that
whether you beat the Yankees or not, you are struggling to uphold a
system which must, sooner or later, break down.

I have not the smallest sentimental sympathy with the negro; don't
believe in him at all, in short. But it is clear to me that slavery
means, for the white man, bad political economy; bad social morality;
bad internal political organisation, and a bad influence upon free
labour and freedom all over the world. For the sake of the white man,
therefore, for your children and grandchildren, directly, and for mine,
indirectly, I wish to see this system ended. [Cf. "Reader," February 27
onwards, where these general arguments against slavery appear in a
controversy arising from his ninth Hunterian Lecture, in which, while
admitting negro inferiority, he refutes those who justify slavery on the
ground that physiologically the negro is very low in the scale.] Would
that the south had had the wisdom to initiate that end without this
miserable war!

All this must jar upon you sadly, and I grieve that it does so; but I
could not pretend to be other than I am, even to please you. Let us
agree to differ upon this point. If I were in your place I doubt not I
should feel as you do; and, when I think of you, I put myself in your
place and feel with you as your brother Tom. The learned gentleman who
has public opinions for which he is responsible is another "party" who
walks about in T's clothes when he is not thinking of his sister.

If this were not my birthday I should not feel justified in taking a
morning's holiday to write this long letter to you. The ghosts of undone
pieces of work are dancing about me, and I must come to an end.

Give my love to your husband. I am glad to hear he wears so well. And
don't forget to give your children kindly thoughts of their uncle. Dr.
Wright gives a great account of my namesake, and says he is the
handsomest youngster in the Southern States. That comes of his being
named after me, you know how renowned for personal beauty I always was.

I asked Dr. Wright if you had taken to spectacles, and he seemed to
think not. I had a pain about my eyes a few months ago, but I found
spectacles made this rather worse and left them off again. However, I do
catch myself holding a newspaper further off than I used to do.

Now don't let six months go by without writing again. If our little
venture succeeds this time, we shall send again. [I.e. a package of
various presents to the family.] Ever, my dearest Lizzie, your
affectionate brother,

T.H. Huxley.

[He writes to his wife, who had taken the children to Margate:--]

September 22.

I am now busy over a paper for the Zoological Society; after that there
is one for the Ethnological which was read last session though not
written...Don't blaspheme about going into the bye-ways. They are both
in the direct road of the book, only over the hills instead of going
over the beaten path.

October 6.

I heard from Darwin last night jubilating over an article of mine which
is published in the last number of the "Natural History Review," and
which he is immensely pleased with...My lectures tire me, from want of
practice, I suppose. I shall soon get into swing.

[The article in question was the "Criticisms of the 'Origin of Species'"
of which he writes to Darwin:--]

Jermyn Street, October 5, 1864.

My dear Darwin,

I am very glad to see your handwriting (in ink) again, and none the less
on account of the pretty words into which it was shaped.

It is a great pleasure to me that you like the article, for it was
written very hurriedly, and I did not feel sure when I had done that I
had always rightly represented your views.

Hang the two scalps up in your wigwam!

Flourens I could have believed anything of, but how a man of Kolliker's
real intelligence and ability could have so misunderstood the question
is more than I can comprehend.

It will be a thousand pities, however, if any review interferes with
your saying something on the subject yourself. Unless it should give you
needless work I heartily wish you would.

Everybody tells me I am looking so exceedingly well that I am ashamed to
say a word to the contrary. But the fact is, I get no exercise, and a
great deal of bothering work on our Commission's Cruise; and though much
fatter (indeed a regular bloater myself), I am not up to the mark. Next
year I will have a real holiday. [At the end of the year, as so often,
he went off for a ploy with Tyndall, this time into Derbyshire, walking
vigorously over the moors.]

I am a bachelor, my wife and belongings being all at that beautiful
place, Margate. When I came back I found them all looking so seedy that
I took them off bag and baggage to that, as the handiest place, before a
week was over. They are wonderfully improved already, my wife especially
being abundantly provided with her favourite east wind. Your godson is
growing a very sturdy fellow, and I begin to puzzle my head with
thinking what he is and what he is not to be taught.

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