182 Thomas Henry Husley. 
The lifelong friendship that existed between Huxley and his 
colleagues, Darwin, Spencer, and Tyndall, men of widely 
different views on many subjects, is a noteworthy fact. The 
intimacy between Huxley and Tyndall has been recorded on 
many pages, and I recall many illustrations of that of Huxley 
and Spencer, the last at one of the long-to-be-remembered 
dinners of the X Club, of which Huxley was then president. 
As an illustration of the warm friendship existing between 
Huxley and Darwin, I may perhaps be permitted here to refer 
to an incident that occurred during one of my visits to Eng- 
land. I was passing a memorable day with Darwin, during 
which he spoke freely of many scientific men. Referring to 
Huxley, he said with more than usual earnestness, “‘ Huxley is 
the king of men!” A few days later I mentioned this to 
Huxley, and he was deeply moved by it. His reply I shall 
never forget: “ Now you can understand why we who know 
Darwin all have such an affection for him, and: when his 
enemies reviled the noble man, why my right arm was so 
‘heavy in his defense.” 3 
How kind Huxley was to every one who could claim his 
friendship, I have good cause to know. Of the many instances 
which occur to me, one will suffice. One evening in London, 
at a grand annual reception of the Royal Academy, where 
celebrities of every rank were present, Huxley said to me, 
“When I was in America, you showed me every extinct animal 
that I had ever read about, or even dreamt of. Now, if there 
is a single living lion in all Great Britain that you wish to see, 
I will show him to you in five minutes.” He kept his promise, 
and before the reception was over, I had met many of the 
most noted men in England, and from that evening, I can 
date a large number of acquaintances, who have made my sub- 
sequent visits to that country an ever increasing pleasure. 
Another characteristic remark of Huxley’s, at a later date, 
comes back to me as I write. Speaking of the many interrup- 
tions and distractions of his life in London, which claimed the 
greater part of his time, he said to me feelingly, “If I could 
only break my leg, what a lot of scientific work I could do!” 
My latest message from Huxley came last Christmas, and 
with it the complete new edition of his revised works, which 
I shall always treasure as his parting gift, the last of many 
tokens of his friendship. 
Honors fell thick and fast upon Huxley, especially during 
his active life. They were all deserved, and he estimated 
them at their true value. A mere list of his titles would 
extend the present notice much beyond the limits assigned to it. 
