Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley Volume III Part 30

My dear Hooker,

I trust I have done with Booth and Co. at last. What an a.s.s a man is to try to prevent his fellow-creatures from being humbugged! Surely I am old enough to know better. I have not been so well abused for an age.

It's quite like old times.

And now I have to settle accounts with the Duke and the G.O.M. I wonder when the wicked will let me be at peace.

Ever yours affectionately,

T.H. Huxley.

[Other letters touch upon the politics of the hour, especially upon the sudden and dramatic fall of Parnell. He could not but admire the power and determination of the man, and his political methods, an admiration rashly interpreted by some journalist as admiration of the objects to which these political methods were applied. (See Volume 2.)]

Grand Hotel, Eastbourne, November 26, 1890.

My dear Lecky,

Very many thanks for your two volumes, which I rejoice to have, especially as a present from you. I was only waiting until we were settled in our new house--as I hope we shall be this time next week--to add them to the set which already adorn my shelves, and I promise myself soon to enjoy the reading of them.

The Unionist cause is looking up. What a strange thing it is that the Irish malcontents are always sold, one way or the other, by their leaders.

I wonder if the G.O.M. ever swears! Pity if he can't have that relief just now.

With our united kind regards to Mrs. Lecky and yourself.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

Grand Hotel, Eastbourne, November 29, 1890.

My dear Hooker,

I have filled up and sent your and my copies of entry for Athenaeum.

Carpenter has written the best popular statement I know of, of the results of criticism, in a little book called "The First Three Gospels", which is well worth reading. [See above.]

I have promised to go to the Royal Society dinner and propose Stokes'

health on Monday, but if the weather holds out as Arctic as it is now, I shall not dare to venture. The driving east wind, blowing the snow before it here, has been awful; for ten years they have had nothing like it. I am glad to say that my little house turns out to be warm. We go in next Wednesday, and I fear I cannot be in town on Thursday even if the weather permits.

I have had pleurisy that was dangerous and not painful, then pleurisy that was painful and not dangerous; there is only one further combination, and I don't want that.

Politics now are immensely interesting. There must be a depth of blackguardism in me, for I cannot help admiring Parnell. I prophesy that it is Gladstone who will retire for a while, and then come back to Parnell's heel like a whipped hound. His letter was carefully full of loopholes.

Ever yours affectionately,

T.H. Huxley.

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, December 2, 1890.

My dear Hooker,

The question of questions now is whether the Unionists will have the sense to carry a measure settling the land question at once. If they do that, I do not believe it will be in the power of man to stir them further. And my belief is that Parnell will be quite content with that solution. He does not want to be made a nonent.i.ty by Davitt or the Irish Americans.

But what ingrained liars they all are! That is the bottom of all Irish trouble. Fancy Healy and s.e.xton going to Dublin to swear eternal fidelity to their leader, and now openly declaring that they only did so because they believed he would resign.

Ever yours affectionately,

T.H. Huxley.

Hodeslea, January 10, 1891.

My dear Foster,

I am trying to bring the Booth business to an end so far as I am concerned, but it's like getting a wolf by the ears; you can't let him go exactly when you like.

But the result is quite worth the trouble. Booth, Stead, Tillett, Manning and Co. have their little game spoilt for the present.

You cannot imagine the quant.i.ty of letters I get from the Salvation Army subordinates, thanking me and telling me all sorts of stories in strict confidence. The poor devils are frightened out of their lives by headquarter spies. Some beg me not to reply, as their letters are opened.

I knew that saints were not bad hands at lying before; but these Booth people beat Banagher.

Then there is -- awaits skinning, and I believe the G.O.M. is to be upon me! Oh for a quiet life.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[But by February 17 the Booth business was over, the final rejoinder to Mr. Gladstone sent to press; and he writes to Sir J. Hooker:--]

Please the pigs, I have now done with them--wiped my month, and am going to be good--till next time.

But in truth I am as sick of controversy as a confectioner's boy of tarts.

I rather think I shall set up as a political prophet. Gladstone and all the rest are coming to heel to their master.

Years ago one of the present leaders of the anti-Parnellites said to me: "Gladstone is always in the hands of somebody stronger than himself; formerly it was Bright, now it is Parnell."

CHAPTER 3.8.

1890-1891.

[The new house at Eastbourne has been several times referred to. As usually happens, the move was considerably delayed by the slowness of the workmen; it did not actually take place till the beginning of December.

He writes to his daughter, Mrs. Roller, who also had just moved into a new house:--]

You have all my sympathies on the buy, buy question. I never knew before that when you go into a new house money runs out at the heels of your boots. On former occasions, I have been too busy to observe the fact. But I am convinced now that it is a law of nature.

[The origin of the name given to the house appears from the following letter:--]