I had a very difficult task at Oxford.  The old Adam, of course, prompted the tearing of the address to pieces, which would have been a very easy job, especially the latter half of it.  But as that procedure would not have harmonised well with the function of a seconder of a vote of thanks, and as, moreover, Lord S. was very just and good in his expressions about Darwin, I had to convey criticism in the shape of praise.

It was very curious to me to sit there and hear the Chancellor of the University accept, as a matter of course, the doctrines for which the Bishop of Oxford coarsely anathematised us thirty-four years earlier.  E pur si muove!

I am not afraid of the priests in the long-run.  Scientific method is the white ant which will slowly but surely destroy their fortifications.  And the importance of scientific method in modern practical life—­always growing and increasing—­is the guarantee for the gradual emancipation of the ignorant upper and lower classes, the former of whom especially are the strength of the priests.

My wife had a very bad attack of her old enemy some weeks ago, and she thought she would not be able to go to Oxford.  However, she picked up in the wonderfully elastic way she has, and I believe was less done-up than I when we left on the Friday morning.  I was glad the wife was there, as the meeting gave me a very kind reception, and it was probably the last flare-up in the socket.

The Warden of Merton took great care of us, but it was sad to think of the vacuity of Balliol.

Please remember me very kindly to Father Steffens and the Steeles, and will you tell Herr Walther we are only waiting for a balloon to visit the hotel again?

With our affectionate regards to Mrs. Campbell and yourself.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H.  Huxley.

[Here also belong several letters of miscellaneous interest.  One is to Mrs. Lewis Campbell at the Maloja.]

Hodeslea, August 20, 1894.

My dear Mrs. Campbell,

What a pity I am not a telepath!  I might have answered your inquiry in the letter I was writing to your husband yesterday.

The flower I found on the island in Sils Lake was a cross between Gentiana lutea and Gentiana punctata—­nothing new, but interesting in many ways as a natural hybrid.

As to baptizing the island, I am not guilty of usurping ecclesiastical functions to that extent.  I have a notion that the island has a name already, but I cannot recollect it.  Walther would know.

My wife had a bad attack, and we were obliged to give up some visits we had projected.  But she got well enough to go to Oxford with me for a couple of days, and really stood the racket better than I did.

At present she is fairly well, and I hope the enemy may give her a long respite.  The Colliers come to us at the end of this month, and that will do her good.

With our affectionate regards to you both and remembrances to our friends.