1 8 Selections from Huxley 



this stroke of fortune as respects its public estimation only, 

 I think I must look upon the award of this medal as the 

 turning point of my life, as the finger-post teaching me 

 as clearly as anything can what is the true career that 



5 lies open before me. For whatever may be my own 

 private estimation of it, there can be no doubt as to the 

 general feeling about this thing, and in case of my candi- 

 dature for any office it would have the very greatest 

 weight. As you will have seen by my last letter, it only 



10 strengthens and confirms the conclusion I had come to. 

 Bid me God-speed then it is all I want to labor cheer- 

 fully. 



[To Miss Heathorn. London, November 28, 1852. On 

 the funeral of the Duke of Wellington.] 



15 You will hear all the details of the Great Duke's state 

 funeral from the papers much better than I can tell you 

 them. I went to the Cathedral (St. Paul's) and had the 

 good fortune to get a capital seat in front, close to 

 the great door by which every one entered. It was bitter 



20 cold, a keen November wind blowing right in, and as I 

 was there from eight till three, I expected nothing less 

 than rheumatic fever the next day; however, I didn't 

 get it. It was pitiful to see the poor old Marquis of 

 Anglesey a year older than the Duke standing with 



25 bare head in the keen wind close to me for more than 

 three quarters of an hour. It was impressive enough 

 the great interior lighted up by a single line of light 

 running along the whole circuit of the cornice, and an- 

 other encircling the dome, and casting a curious illumina- 



30 tion over the masses of uniforms which filled the great 

 space. The best of our people were there and passed close 

 to me, but the only face that made any great impression 



