uld stoop to such misrepresentations and sophisms
as the audience had lately listened to, he would declare in favor of
the monkey!... It is curious to read that in the ensuing buzz of
excitement a lady fainted, and had to be carried from the room; but
the audience were in general quite alive to the bishop's blunder in
manners and tactics, and, with the genuine English love of fair play,
they loudly applauded Huxley. From that time forth it was recognized
that he was not the sort of man to be browbeaten. As for Bishop
Wilberforce, he carried with him from the affray no bitterness, but
was always afterwards most courteous to his castigator."

Huxley was a great reader of history, poetry, metaphysics, and
fiction, but this is not what made him a great scientist. Original men
make books, they do not need to read them. Yet Huxley loved to read.
He even in his old age studied Greek to read Aristotle and the New
Testament in the original. But Huxley loved things even more than
books. He had little respect for mere bookish knowledge. "A rash
clergyman once, without further equipment in natural science than
desultory reading, attacked the Darwinian theory in some sundry
magazine articles, in which he made himself uncommonly merry at
Huxley's expense. This was intended to draw the great man's fire, and
as the batteries remained silent the author proceeded to write to
Huxley, calling his attention to the articles, and at the same time,
with mock modesty, asking advice as to the further study of these deep
questions. Huxley's answer was brief and to the point: 'Take a
cockroach and dissect it.'"

Huxley was fond of children and their ways. His son, Leonard, tells us
that Julian, the grandchild of Huxley was a child made up of a
combination of cherub and pickle. Huxley had been in his garden
watering with a hose. The little four-year-old was with him. Huxley
came in and said: "I like that chap! I like the way he looks you
straight in the face and disobeys you. I told him not to go on the
wet grass again. He just looked up boldly straight at me, as much as
to say, 'What do _you_ mean by ordering me about?' and deliberately
walked on to the grass." In the spring the approval was not so
decided. "I like that chap; he looks you straight in the face. But
there's a falling off in one respect since last August--he now does
what he is told."

When Julian, the grandchild, was learning to read and write, he became
interested in _Water-Bab