Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley Volume III Part 44

Now, as to the particular case of the sacramental wafer and wine.

Taking their composition and the circ.u.mstances of administration to be as you state them, it is my opinion that a small residuum will be left undigested, and will be voided by the intestine, while by far the greater part will be absorbed and eventually "voided" by the lungs, skin, and kidneys.

If any one a.s.serts that the wafer and wine are voided by the intestine as such, that the "pure flour and water" of which the wafer consists pa.s.s out unchanged, I am of opinion he is in error.

On the other hand, if any one maintains that the material substance of the wafer persists, while its accidents change, within the body, and that this identical substance is sooner or later voided, I do not see how he is to be driven out of that position by any scientific reasoning. On the contrary, there is every reason to believe that the elementary particles of the wafer and of the wine which enter the body never lose their ident.i.ty, or even alter their ma.s.s. If one could see one of the atoms of carbon which enter into the composition of the wafer, I conceive it could be followed the whole way--from the mouth to the organ by which it escapes--just as a bit of floating charcoal might be followed into, through, and out of a whirlpool.

[On October 6, 1892, died Lord Tennyson. In the course of his busy life, Huxley had not been thrown very closely into contact with him; they would meet at the Metaphysical Society, of which Tennyson was a silent member; and in the "Life of Tennyson" two occasions are recorded on which Huxley visited him.

November 11, 1871.

Mr. Huxley and Mr. Knowles arrived here (Aldworth) on a visit. Mr.

Huxley was charming. We had much talk. He was chivalrous, wide, and earnest, so that one could not but enjoy talking with him. There was a discussion on George Eliot's humility. Huxley and A. both thought her a humble woman, despite a dogmatic manner of a.s.sertion that had come upon her latterly in her writings. (Op. cit. 2 110.)

March 17, 1873.

Professor Tyndall and Mr. Huxley called. Mr. Huxley seemed to be universal in his interest, and to have keen enjoyment of life. He spoke of "In Memoriam". (Ibid. 2 143.)

With this may be compared one of Mr. Wilfrid Ward's reminiscences ("Nineteenth Century" August 1896).

"Huxley once spoke strongly of the insight into scientific method shown in Tennyson's 'In Memoriam', and p.r.o.nounced it to be quite equal to that of the greatest experts."

This view of Tennyson appears again in a letter to Sir M. Foster, the Secretary of the Royal Society:--]

Was not Tennyson a Fellow of the Royal Society? If so, should not the President and Council take some notice of his death and delegate some one to the funeral to represent them? Very likely you have thought of it already.

He was the only modern poet, in fact I think the only poet since the time of Lucretius, who has taken the trouble to understand the work and tendency of the men of science.

[But this was not the only side from which he regarded poetry. He had a keen sense for beauty, the artistic perfection of expression, whether in poetry, prose, or conversation. Tennyson's talk he described thus: "Doric beauty is its characteristic--perfect simplicity, without any ornament or anything artificial." And again, to quote Mr. Wilfrid Ward's reminiscences:--

Tennyson he considered the greatest English master of melody except Spenser and Keats. I told him of Tennyson's insensibility to music, and he replied that it was curious that scientific men, as a rule, had more appreciation of music than poets or men of letters. He told me of one long talk he had had with Tennyson, and added that immortality was the one dogma to which Tennyson was pa.s.sionately devoted.

Of Browning, Huxley said]: "He really has music in him. Read his poem "The Thrush" and you will see it. Tennyson said to me," [he added], "that Browning had plenty of music IN him, but he could not get it OUT."

Eastbourne, October 15, 1892.

My dear Tyndall,

I think you will like to hear that the funeral yesterday lacked nothing to make it worthy of the dead or the living.

Bright suns.h.i.+ne streamed through the windows of the nave, while the choir was in half gloom, and as each shaft of light illuminated the flower-covered bier as it slowly travelled on, one thought of the bright succession of his works between the darkness before and the darkness after. I am glad to say that the Royal Society was represented by four of its chief officers, and nine of the commonalty, including myself. Tennyson has a right to that, as the first poet since Lucretius who has understood the drift of science.

We have heard nothing of you and your wife for ages. Ask her to give us news, good news I hope, of both.

My wife is better than she was, and joins with me in love.

Ever yours affectionately,

T.H. Huxley.

[On his way home from the funeral in Westminster Abbey, Huxley pa.s.sed the time in the train by shaping out some lines on the dead poet, the form of them suggested partly by some verses of his wife's, partly by Schiller's

Gib diesen Todten mir heraus, Ich muss ihn wieder haben [Don Carlos, scene 9.],

which came back to his mind in the Abbey. The lines were published in the "Nineteenth Century" for November 1892. He declared that he deserved no credit for the verses; they merely came to him in the train.

His own comparison of them with the sheaf of professed poets' odes which also appeared in the same magazine, comes in a letter to his wife, to whom he sent the poem as soon as it appeared in print.]

I know you want to see the poem, so I have cut it and the rest out of the "Nineteenth" just arrived, and sent it.

If I wore to pa.s.s judgment upon it in comparison with the others, I should say, that as to style it is hammered, and as to feeling human.

They are castings of much prettier pattern and of mainly poetico-cla.s.sical educated-cla.s.s sentiment. I do not think there is a line of mine one of my old working-cla.s.s audience would have boggled over. I would give a penny for John Burns' thoughts about it.

(N.B.--Highly impartial and valuable criticism.)

[He also wrote to Professor Romanes, who had been moved by this new departure to send him a volume of his own poems:--]

Hodeslea, November 3, 1892.

My dear Romanes,

I must send you a line to thank you very much for your volume of poems.

A swift glance shows me much that has my strong sympathy--notably "Pater loquitur," which I shall read to my wife as soon as I get her back. Against all troubles (and I have had my share) I weigh a wife-comrade "treu und fest" in all emergencies.

I have a great respect for the Nazarenism of Jesus--very little for later "Christianity." But the only religion that appeals to me is prophetic Judaism. Add to it something from the best Stoics and something from Spinoza and something from Goethe, and there is a religion for men. Some of these days I think I will make a cento out of the works of these people.

I find it hard enough to write decent prose and have usually stuck to that. The "Gib diesen Todten" I am hardly responsible for, as it did itself coming down here in the train after Tennyson's funeral. The notion came into my head in the Abbey.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[This winter also Sir R. Owen died, and was buried at Ham on December 23. The grave ends all quarrels, and Huxley intended to be present at the funeral. But as he wrote to Dr. Foster on the 23rd:--]

I had a hard morning's work at University College yesterday, and what with the meeting of the previous evening and that infernal fog, I felt so seedy that I made up my mind to go straight home and be quiet...

There has been a bitter north-easter all day here, and if the like has prevailed at Ham I am glad I kept out of it, as I am by no means fit to cope with anything of that kind to-day. I do not think I was bound to offer myself up to the manes of the departed, however satisfactory that might have been to the poor old man. Peace be with him!

[But the old-standing personal differences between the two made it difficult for him to decide what to do with regard to a meeting to raise some memorial to the great anatomist. He writes again to Sir M.

Foster, January 8, 1893:--]

What am I to do about the meeting about Owen's statue on the 21st? I do not wish to pose either as a humbugging approver or as a sulky disapprover. The man did honest work, enough to deserve his statue, and that is all that concerns the public.

[And on the 18th:--]

I am inclined to think that I had better attend the meeting at all costs. But I do not see why I should speak unless I am called upon to do so.

I have no earthly objection to say all that I honestly can of good about Owen's work--and there is much to be said about some of it--on the contrary, I should be well pleased to do so.

But I have no reparation to make; if the business were to come over again, I should do as I did. My opinion of the man's character is exactly what it was, and under the circ.u.mstances there is a sort of hypocrisy about volunteering anything, which goes against my grain.