Thomas Henry Huxley Poems

Poems » thomas henry huxley

Thomas Henry Huxley
Thomas Henry Huxley PC, FRS (4 May 1825 Ealing 29 June 1895 Eastbourne, Sussex) was an English biologist, known as "Darwin's Bulldog" for his advocacy of Charles Darwin's theory of evolution. Huxley's famous 1860 debate with the Lord Bishop of Oxford, Samuel Wilberforce, was a key moment in the wider acceptance of evolution, and in his own career. Wilberforce was coached by Richard Owen, against whom Huxley also debated on whether man was closely related to apes. Huxley was slow to accept some of Darwin's ideas, such as gradualism, and was undecided about natural selection, but despite this he was wholehearted in his public support of Darwin. He was instrumental in developing scientific education in Britain, and fought against the more extreme versions of religious tradition. Huxley used the term 'agnostic' to describe his own views on religion, a term whose use has continued to the present day, and which throws light on his demanding criteria for proof in science (see Thomas Henry Huxley and agnosticism). Huxley had little schooling, and taught himself almost everything he knew. Remarkably, he became perhaps the finest comparative anatomist of the second half of the nineteenth century. He worked first on invertebrates, clarifying the relationships between groups that were previously little understood. Later, he worked more on vertebrates, especially on the relationship between man and the apes. Another of his important conclusions was that birds evolved from dinosaurs, namely, small carnivorous theropods. This view is widely held today. The tendency has been for this fine anatomical work to be overshadowed by his energetic controversial activity in favour of evolution, and by his extensive public work on scientific education, both of which had significant effect on society in Britain and elsewhere.

the child to his mother, absent
 
 
Dearest Mother! Far from thee
Over Land and over Sea,
Dost thou think upon thy Son?
L... [read poem]
from shanklin
 
 
March 1, 1887

Dear wife, for more than thirty years
Have you and I, hand clasped in... [read poem]
on burning a parcel of old mss.
 
 
Wrecks of forgotten thought, or disapproved,
Farewell! and as your smouldering flames asce... [read poem]

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