I wish we could have better news of you. As to dying by inches, that is what we are all doing, my dear old fellow; the only thing is to establish a proper ratio between inch and time. Eight years ago I had good reason to say the same thing of myself, but my inch has lengthened out in a most extraordinary way. Still I confess we are getting older; and my dear wife has been greatly shaken by repeated attacks of violent pain which seizes her quite unexpectedly. I am always glad, both on her account and my own, to get back into the quiet and good air here as fast as possible, and in another year or two, if I live so long, I shall clear out of all engagements that take me away... T.H. Huxley. NOT TO BE ANSWERED, and you had better get Mrs. Tyndall to read it to you or you will say naughty words about the scrawl. [Sanguine as he had resolved to be about the recovery of his voice, his fear lest "1000 out of the 2000 won't hear" was very near realisation. The Sheldonian Theatre was thronged before he appeared on the platform, a striking presence in his D.C.L. robes, and looking very leonine with his silvery gray hair sweeping back in one long wave from his forehead, and the rugged squareness of his features tempered by the benignity of an old age which has seen much and overcome much. He read the lecture from a printed copy, not venturing, as he would have liked, upon the severe task of speaking it from memory, considering its length and the importance of preserving the exact wording. He began in a somewhat low tone, nursing his voice for the second half of the discourse. From the more distant parts of the theatre came several cries of "speak up"; and after a time a rather disturbing migration of eager undergraduates began from the galleries to the body of the hall. The latter part was indeed more audible than the first; still a number of the audience were disappointed in hearing imperfectly. However, the lecture had a large sale; the first edition of 2000 was exhausted by the end of the month; and another 700 in the next ten days. After leaving Oxford, and paying a pleasant visit to one of the Fannings (his wife's nephew) at Tew, Huxley intended to visit another of the family, Mrs. Crowder, in Lincolnshire, but on reaching London found himself dead beat, and had to retire to Eastbourne, whence he writes to Sir M. Foster and to Mr. Romanes.] Hodeslea, May 26, 1893. My dear Foster, Your letter has been following me about. I had not got rid of my influenza at Oxford, so the exertion and the dinner parties together played the deuce with me. We had got so far as the Great Northern Hotel on our way to some connections in Lincolnshire, when I had to give it up and retreat here to begin convalescing again.