T.H. Huxley.
I enclose a sort of rough programme of the kind of thing I mean, cut up from a project of instruction for a school about which I am now busy. The managers might like to see it. But I shall be glad to have it returned.
[These lectures were repeated in November at South Kensington Museum, as the first part of a threefold course to women on the elements of physical science, and the “Times” reporter naively remarks that under the rather alarming name of Physiography, many of the audience were no doubt surprised to hear an exceedingly simple and lucid description of a river-basin. Want of leisure prevented him from bringing out the lectures in book form until November 1877. When it did appear, however, the book, like his other popular works, had a wide sale, and became the forerunner of an immense number of school-books on the subject.
As President of the Geological Society, he delivered an address ("Collected Essays” 8 305), at the anniversary meeting, February 19, upon the “Geological Reform” demanded by the considerations advanced by the physicists, as to the age of the earth and the duration of life upon it. From the point of view of biology he was ready to accept the limits suggested, provided that the premises of Sir William Thomson’s (Now Lord Kelvin.) argument were shown to be perfectly reliable; but he pointed out a number of considerations which might profoundly modify the results of the isolated causes adduced; and uttered a warning against the possible degradation of “a proper reverence for mathematical certainty” into “a superstitious respect for all arguments arrived at by process of mathematics.” (See “Collected Essays” 8 Introduction page 8.)
At the close of the year, as his own period of office came to an end, it was necessary to select a new president of the Geological. He strongly urged Professor (afterwards Sir Joseph) Prestwich to stand, and when the latter consented, a few weeks, by the way, before his marriage was to take place, replied:—]
Jermyn Street, December 16, 1869.
My dear Prestwich,
Many thanks for your letter. Your consent to become our President for the next period will give as unfeigned satisfaction to the whole body of the Society as it does to me and your other personal friends.
I have looked upon the affair as settled since our last talk, and a very great relief it has been to my mind.
There is no doubt public-dinner speaking (and indeed all public speaking) is nervous work. I funk horribly, though I never get the least credit for it. But it is like swimming, the worst of it is in the first plunge; and after you have taken your “header” it’s not so bad (just like matrimony, by the way; only don’t be so mean as to go and tell a certain lady I said so, because I want to stand well in her books.)
Of course you may command me in all ways in which I can possibly be of use. But as one of the chiefs of the Society, and personally and scientifically popular with the whole body, you start with an immense advantage over me, and will find no difficulties before you.