148 LIFE OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY CHAP. VII 



in the world will ever be worthless for me as soon as they 

 are obtained. I know that always, as now, they will 

 make me more sad than joyful. I know that nothing that 

 could be done would give me the pure and heartfelt joy 

 and peace of mind that your love has given me, and, 

 please God, shall give for many a long year to come, and 

 yet my demon says work ! work ! you shall not even love 

 unless you work. 



Not blinded by any vanity, then, I hope . . . but 

 viewing 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 a? clearly as anything can what 

 is the true career that 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 candidature for any office it would have the 

 very greatest weight. And as you will have seen by my 

 last letter, it only strengthens and confirms the conclusion 

 I had come to. Bid me God-speed then ... it is all I 

 want to labour cheerfully. 



Nov. 23. 



. . . 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 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 

 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 another encircling the 



