Your Shakespere parable is charming—­but I am afraid it must be put among the endless things that are read in to the “divine Williams” as the Frenchman called him. [The second part of the letter replies to the question whether Shakespeare had any notion of the existence of the sexes in plants and the part played in their fertilisation by insects, which, of course, would be prevented from visiting them by rainy weather, when he wrote in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream":—­

The moon, methinks, looks with a watery eye,
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower
Lamenting some enforced chastity.]

There was no knowledge of the sexes of plants in Shakespere’s time, barring some vague suggestion about figs and dates.  Even in the 18th century, after Linnaeus, the observations of Sprengel, who was a man of genius, and first properly explained the action of insects, were set aside and forgotten.

I take it that Shakespere is really alluding to the “enforced chastity” of Dian (the moon).  The poets ignore that little Endymion business when they like!

I have recovered in such an extraordinary fashion that I can plume myself on being an “interesting case,” though I am not going to compete with you in that line.  And if you look at the February “Nineteenth” I hope you will think that my brains are none the worse.  But perhaps that conceited speech is evidence that they are.

We came to town to make the acquaintance of Nettie’s fiance, and I am happy to say the family takes to him.  When it does not take to anybody, it is the worse for that anybody.

So, before long, my house will be empty, and as my wife and I cannot live in London, I think we shall pitch our tent in Eastbourne.  Good Jack offers to give us a pied-a-terre when we come to town.  To-day we are off to Eastbourne again.  Carry off Harry, who is done up from too zealous Hospital work.  However, it is nothing serious.

The following is in reply to a request that he would write a letter, as he describes it elsewhere, “about the wife’s sister business—­for the edification of the peers.”

3 Jevington Gardens, Eastbourne, March 12, 1889.

My dear Donnelly,

I feel “downright mean,” as the Yankees say, that I have not done for the sake of right and justice what I am moved to do now that I have a personal interest in the matter of the directest kind; and I rather expect that will be thrown in my teeth if my name is at the bottom of anything I write.

On the other hand, I loathe anonymity.  However, we can take time to consider that point.

Anyhow I will set to work on the concoction of a letter, if you will supply me with the materials which will enable me to be thoroughly posted up in the facts.

I have just received your second letter.  Pity you could not stay over yesterday—­it was very fine.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H.  Huxley.