T.H.  Huxley.

[The following is in reply to a jest of Dr. Dohrn’s—­who was still a bachelor—­upon a friend’s unusual sort of offering to a young lady.]

I suspected the love affair you speak of, and thought the young damsel very attractive.  I suppose it will come to nothing, even if he be disposed to add his hand to the iron and quinine, in the next present he offers...and, oh my Diogenes, happy in a tub of arthropodous Entwickelungsgeschichte [History of Development.], despise not beefsteaks, nor wives either.  They also are good.

Jermyn Street, June 5, 1872.

My dear Dohrn,

I have written to the Governor of Ceylon, and enclosed the first half of your letter to me to him as he understands High Dutch.  I have told him that the best thing he can do is to write to you at Naples and tell you he will be very happy to see you as soon as you can come.  And that if you do come you will give him the best possible advice about his museum, and let him have no rest until he has given you a site for a zoological station.

I have no doubt you will get a letter from him in three weeks or so.  His name is Gregory, and you will find him a good-humoured acute man of the world, with a very great general interest in scientific and artistic matters.  Indeed in art I believe he is a considerable connoisseur.

I am very grieved to hear of your father’s serious illness.  At his age cerebral attacks are serious, and when we spent so many pleasant hours together at Naples, he seemed to have an endless store of vigour—­very much like his son Anton.

What put it into your head that I had any doubt of your power of work?  I am ready to believe that you are Hydra in the matter of heads and Briareus in the matter of hands.

...If you go to Ceylon I shall expect you to come back by way of England.  It’s the shortest route anywhere from India, though it may not look so on the map.

How am I?  Oh, getting along and just keeping the devil of dyspepsia at arm’s length.  The wife and other members of the H.F. are well, and would send you greetings if they knew I was writing to you.

Ever yours faithfully,

T.H.  Huxley.

[A little later Von Willemoes Suhm] ("why the deuce does he have such a long name, instead of a handy monosyllable are dissyllable like Dohrn or Huxley?”) [was recommended for the post.  He afterwards was one of the scientific staff of the “Challenger,” and died during the voyage.]

Morthoe, near Barnstaple, North Devon, August 5, 1872.

My dear Dohrn,