[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. 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.