task since the world began. Certainly it required fearlessness and
determination to wrestle with the prejudices against science in the
middle of the nineteenth century--how much may be gathered from the
reading of Darwin's Life and Letters. The attitude of the times toward
science has already been indicated. One may be allowed to give one more
example from the reported address of a clergyman. "O ye men of science,
ye men of science, leave us our ancestors in paradise, and you may have
yours in Zoological gardens." The war was, for the most part, between
the clergy and the men of science, but it is necessary to remember
that Huxley fought not against Christianity, but against dogma; that
he fought not against the past,--he had great reverence for the
accomplishment of the past,--but against unwillingness to accept the new
truth of the present.

A scholar of the highest type and a fearless defender of true and honest
thinking, Huxley certainly was: but the quality which gives meaning to
his work, which makes it live, is a certain human quality due to the
fact that Huxley was always keenly alive to the relation of science to
the problems of life. For this reason, he was not content with the
mere acquirement of knowledge; and for this reason, also, he could not
quietly wait until the world should come to his way of thinking. Much
of the time, therefore, which he would otherwise naturally have spent
in research, he spent in contending for and in endeavoring to popularize
the facts of science. It was this desire to make his ideas prevail
that led Huxley to work for a mastery of the technique of speaking and
writing. He hated both, but taught himself to do both well. The end of
all his infinite pains about his writing was not because style for its
own sake is worth while, but because he saw that the only way to win
men to a consideration of his message was to make it perfectly clear and
attractive to them. Huxley's message to the people was that happiness,