Ever yours very truly,

T.H.  Huxley.

[The first of the following set refers to a lively piece of nonsense which Huxley wrote just before going to stay with the Romanes’ at Oxford on the occasion of the Romanes Lecture. (See above.) After Professor Romanes’ death, Mrs. Romanes asked leave to print it in the biography of her husband.  In the other letters, Huxley gives his consent, but, with his usual care for the less experienced, tried to prevent any malicious perversion of the fun which might put her in a false position.]

To Mrs. Romanes.

Hodeslea, September 20, 1894.

I do not think I can possibly have any objection to your using my letter if you think it worth while—­but perhaps you had better let me look at it, for I remember nothing about it—­and my letters to people whom I trust are sometimes more plain-spoken than polite about things and men.  You know at first there was some talk of my possibly supplying Gladstone’s place in case of his failure, and I would not be sure of my politeness in that quarter!

Pray do not suppose that your former letter was other than deeply interesting and touching to me.  I had more than half a mind to reply to it, but hesitated with a man’s horror of touching a wound he cannot heal.

And then I got a bad bout of “liver,” from which I am just picking up.

Hodeslea, September 22, 1894.

It’s rather a rollicking epistle, I must say, but as my wife (who sends her love) says she thinks she is the only person who has a right to complain (and she does not), I do not know why it should not be published.

P.S.—­I fancy very few people will catch the allusion about not contradicting me.  But perhaps it would be better to take the opinion of some impartial judge on that point.

I do not care the least on my own account, but I see my words might be twisted into meaning that you had told me something about your previous guest, and that I referred to what you had said.

Of course you had done nothing of the kind, but as a wary old fox, experienced sufferer from the dodges of the misrepresenter, I feel bound not to let you get into any trouble if I can help it.

A regular lady’s P.S. this.

P.S.—­Letter returned herewith.

To Mr. Leslie Stephen.

Hodeslea, October 16, 1894.

My dear Stephen,

I am very glad you like to have my omnium gatherum, and think the better of it for gaining me such a pleasant letter of acknowledgment.

It is a great loss to me to be cut off from all my old friends, but sticking closely to my hermitage, with fresh air and immense quantities of rest, have become the conditions of existence for me, and one must put up with them.

I have not paid all the debt incurred in my Oxford escapade yet—­the last “little bill” being a sharp attack of lumbago, out of which I hope I have now emerged.  But my deafness alone should bar me from decent society.  I have not the moral courage to avoid making shots at what people say, so as not to bore them; and the results are sometimes disastrous.