T.H.  Huxley.

[An outbreak of diphtheria among his children made the spring of 1878 a time of overwhelming anxiety.  How it told upon his strong and self-contained chief is related by T.J.  Parker—­“I never saw a man more crushed than he was during the dangerous illness of one of his daughters, and he told me that, having then to make an after-dinner speech, he broke down for the first time in his life, and for one painful moment forgot where he was and what he had to say.”  This was one of the few occasions of his absence from College during the seventies.  “When, after two days, he looked in at the laboratory,” writes Professor Howes, “his dejected countenance and tired expression betokened only too plainly the intense anxiety he had undergone.”

The history of the outbreak was very instructive.  Huxley took a leading part in organising an inquiry and in looking into the matter with the health officer.] “As soon as I can get all the facts together,” [he writes on December 10,] “I am going to make a great turmoil about our outbreak of diphtheria—­and see whether I cannot get our happy-go-lucky local government mended.” [As usual, the epidemic was due to culpable negligence.  In the construction of some drains, too small a pipe was laid down.  The sewage could not escape, and flooded back in a low-lying part of Kilburn.  Diphtheria soon broke out close by.  While it was raging there, a St. John’s Wood dairyman running short of milk, sent for more to an infected dairy in Kilburn.  Every house which he supplied that day with Kilburn milk was attacked with diphtheria.

But with relief from this heavy strain, his spirits instantly revived, and he writes to Tyndall.]

4 Marlborough Place, May 20, 1878.

My dear Tyndall,

I wrote you a most downhearted letter this morning about Madge, and not without reason.  But having been away four hours, I come home to find a wonderful and blessed change.  The fever has abated and she is looking like herself.  If she could only make herself heard, I should have some sauciness.  I see it in her eyes.

If you will be so kind as to kiss everybody you meet on my account it will be a satisfaction to me.  You may begin with Mrs. Tyndall!

Ever yours,

T.H.  Huxley.

[Professor Marsh, with whom Huxley had stayed at Yale College in 1876, paid his promised visit to England immediately after this.]

4 Marlborough Place, N.W., June 24, 1878 (Evening).

My dear Marsh,

Welcome to England!  I am delighted to hear of your arrival—­but the news has only just reached me, as I have been away since Saturday with my wife and sick daughter who are at the seaside.  A great deal has happened to us in the last six or seven weeks.  My eldest daughter married, and then a week after an invasion of diphtheria, which struck down my eldest son, my youngest daughter, and my eldest remaining daughter altogether.  Two of the cases were light, but my poor Madge suffered terribly, and for some ten days we were in sickening anxiety about her.  She is slowly gaining strength now, and I hope there is no more cause for alarm—­but my household is all to pieces—­the Lares and Penates gone, and painters and disinfectors in their places.