, to the
north of London.

Huxley was of middle stature and rather slender build. His face, as
Professor Ray Lankester described it, was "grave, black-browed, and
fiercely earnest." His hair, plentiful and worn rather long, was black
until in old age it became silvery white. He wore short side whiskers,
but shaved the rest of his face, leaving fully exposed an obstinate
chin, and mobile lips, grim and resolute in repose, but capable of
relaxation into a smile of almost feminine charm.

He was a very hard worker and took little exercise. Professor Howes
describes a typical day as occupied by lecture and laboratory work at
the College of Science until his hurried luncheon; then a cab-drive to
the Home Office for his work as Inspector of Fisheries; then a cab
home for an hour's work before dinner, and the evening after dinner
spent in literary work or scientific reading. While at work, his whole
attention was engrossed, and he disliked being disturbed. This
abstraction of his attention is illustrated humorously by a story told
by one of his demonstrators. Huxley was engaged in the investigations
required for his book on the Crayfish, and his demonstrator came in to
ask a question about a codfish. "Codfish?" said Huxley; "that's a
vertebrate, isn't it? Ask me in a fortnight and I'll consider it."
While at work he smoked almost continuously, and from time to time he
took a little relaxation, for the strains of a fiddle were
occasionally heard from his room. Indeed he was devoted to music,
regarding it as one of the highest of the aesthetic pleasures. He tells
us himself:

"When I was a boy, I was very fond of music, and I am so now; and
it so happened that I had the opportunity of hearing much good
music. Among other things, I had abundant opportunities of
hearing that great old master, Sebastian Bach. I remember
perfectly well--although I knew nothing about music then, and, I
may add, know nothing whatever about it now--the intense
satisfaction and delight which I had in listening, by the hour
together, to Bach's fugues. It is a pleasure which remains with
me, I am glad to think; but, of late years, I have tried to find
out the why and wherefore, and it has often occurred to me that
the pleasure derived from musical compositions of this kind is
essentially of the same nature as that which is derived from
pursuits which are commonly regarded as purely intel