ON SCIENTIFIC ASPIRATIONS 



341 



It was lucky we did not go to you. My wife got an awful 

 dose of neuralgia and general upset, and was laid up at the 

 Hotel. The house was not quite finished inside, but we came 

 in on Tuesday, and she has been getting better ever since in 

 spite of the gale. 



I am sorry to hear of the recurrence of influenza. It is a 

 beastly thing. Lord Justice Bowen told me he has had it every 

 time it has been in the country. You must come and try East- 

 bourne air as soon as we are settled. With our love to you and 

 Mrs. Donnelly — Ever yours, T. H. Huxley. 



Better be careful, I return all letters on which R.H. is not 

 in full. 



The next is to a young man with aspirations after an 

 intellectual career, who asked his advice as to the propriety 

 of throwing up his business, and plunging into literature or 

 science : — ■ 



Hodesi.ea, Eastbourne, Nov. 5. 1892. 



Dear Sir — I am very sorry that the pressure of other occu- 

 pations has prevented me from sending an earlier reply to your 

 letter. 



In my opinion a man's first duty is to find a way of support- 

 ing himself, thereby relieving other people of the necessity of 

 supporting him. Moreover, the learning to do work of prac- 

 tical value in the world, in an exact and careful manner, is of 

 itself a very important education, the effects of which make 

 themselves felt in all other pursuits. The habit of doing that 

 which you do not care about when you would much rather be 

 doing something else, is invaluable. It would have saved me a 

 frightful waste of time if I had ever had it drilled into me in 

 youth. 



Success in any scientific career requires an unusual equip- 

 ment of capacity, industry, and energy. If you possess that 

 equipment you will find leisure enough after your daily com- 

 mercial work is over, to make an opening in the scientific ranks 

 for yourself. If you do not, you had better stick to commerce. 

 Nothing is less to be desired than the fate of a young man, who, 

 as the Scotch proverb says, in " trying to make a spoon spoils a 

 horn," and becomes a mere hanger-on in literature or in science, 

 when he might have been a useful and a valuable member of 

 Society in other occupations. 



I think that your father ought to see this letter. — Yours 

 faithfully, ' " T. H. Huxley. 



