With regard to the spread of a belief in Evolution, it could not yet be said that the battle was won, but the growth of belief was undoubtedly rapid. So that, for instance, Charles Kingsley could write to F.D. Maurice (Kingsley's 'Life,' ii, page 171.):
"The state of the scientific mind is most curious; Darwin is conquering everywhere, and rushing in like a flood, by the mere force of truth and fact."
Mr. Huxley was as usual active in guiding and stimulating the growing tendency to tolerate or accept the views set forth in the 'Origin of Species.' He gave a series of lectures to working men at the School of Mines in November, 1862. These were printed in 1863 from the shorthand notes of Mr. May, as six little blue books, price 4 pence each, under the title, 'Our Knowledge of the Causes of Organic Nature.' When published they were read with interest by my father, who thus refers to them in a letter to Sir J.D. Hooker:--
"I am very glad you like Huxley's lectures. I have been very much struck with them, especially with the 'Philosophy of Induction.' I have quarrelled with him for overdoing sterility and ignoring cases from Gartner and Kolreuter about sterile varieties. His Geology is obscure; and I rather doubt about man's mind and language. But it seems to me ADMIRABLY done, and, as you say, "Oh my," about the praise of the 'Origin.' I can't help liking it, which makes me rather ashamed of myself."
My father admired the clearness of exposition shown in the lectures, and in the following letter urges their author to make use of his powers for the advantage of students:]
CHARLES DARWIN TO T.H. HUXLEY. November 5 [1864].
I want to make a suggestion to you, but which may probably have occurred to you. -- was reading your Lectures and ended by saying, "I wish he would write a book." I answered, "he has just written a great book on the skull." "I don't call that a book," she replied, and added, "I want something that people can read; he does write so well." Now, with your ease in writing, and with knowledge at your fingers' ends, do you not think you could write a popular Treatise on Zoology? Of course it would be some waste of time, but I have been asked more than a dozen times to recommend something for a beginner and could only think of Carpenter's Zoology. I am sure that a striking Treatise would do real service to science by educating naturalists. If you were to keep a portfolio open for a couple of years, and throw in slips of paper as subjects crossed your mind, you would soon have a skeleton (and that seems to me the difficulty) on which to put the flesh and colours in your inimitable manner. I believe such a book might have a brilliant success, but I did not intend to scribble so much about it.
Give my kindest remembrance to Mrs. Huxley, and tell her I was looking at 'Enoch Arden,' and as I know how she admires Tennyson, I must call her attention to two sweetly pretty lines (page 105)...
...and he meant, he said he meant, Perhaps he meant, or partly meant, you well.
Such a gem as this is enough to make me young again, and like poetry with pristine fervour.
My dear Huxley, Yours affectionately, CH. DARWIN.
[In another letter (January 1865) he returns to the above suggestion, though he was in general strongly opposed to men of science giving up to the writing of text-books, or to teaching, the time that might otherwise have been given to original research.
"I knew there was very little chance of your having time to write a popular Treatise on Zoology, but you are about the one man who could do it. At the time I felt it would be almost a sin for you to do it, as it would of course destroy some original work. On the other hand I sometimes think that general and popular treatises are almost as important for the progress of science as original work."
The series of letters will continue the history of the year 1863.]
CHARLES DARWIN TO J.D. HOOKER. Down, January 3 [1863].
My dear Hooker,
I am burning with indignation and must exhale...I could not get to sleep till past 3 last night for indignation (It would serve no useful purpose if I were to go into the matter which so strongly roused my father's anger. It was a question of literary dishonesty, in which a friend was the sufferer, but which in no way affected himself.)...