If it is only Murray's speculations he wants to publish separately, I should say by all means let him. But the facts, whether advanced by him or other people, ought all to be in the official record. I agree we can't stir. I scented the "goak." How confoundedly proud you are of it. In former days I have been known to joke myself. I will look after the questions if you like. In my present state of mind I shall be a capital critic--on Dizzy's views of critics... Ever yours, T.H. Huxley. [This year Huxley was appointed a Trustee of the British Museum, an office which he had held ex officio from 1883 to 1885, as President of the Royal Society. This is referred to in the following letter of March 9:--] My dear Hooker, Having nothing to do plays the devil with doing anything, and I suppose that is why I have been so long about answering your letter. There is nothing the matter with me now except want of strength. I am tired out with a three-mile walk, and my voice goes if I talk for any time. I do not suppose I shall do much good till I get into high and dry air, and it is too early for Switzerland yet.... You see I was honoured and gloried by a trusteeship of the British Museum. [Replying on the 2nd to Sir John Evans' congratulations, he says:--"It is some months since Lord Salisbury made the proposal to me, and I was beginning to wonder what had happened--whether Cantaur had put his foot down for example, and objected to bad company."] These things, I suppose, normally come when one is worn-out. When Lowe was Chancellor of the Exchequer I had a long talk with him about the affairs of the Natural History Museum, and I told him that he had better put Flower at the head of it and make me a trustee to back him. Bobby no doubt thought the suggestion cheeky, but it is odd that the thing has come about now that I don't care for it, and desire nothing better than to be out of every description of bother and responsibility. Have not Lady Hooker and you yet learned that a large country house is of all places the most detestable in cold weather? The neuralgia was a mild and kindly hint of Providence not to do it again, but I am rejoiced it has vanished. Pronouns got mixed somehow. With our kindest regards. Ever yours, T.H. Huxley. More last words:--What little faculty I have has been bestowed on the obituary of Darwin for Royal Society lately. I have been trying to make it an account of his intellectual progress, and I hope it will have some interest. Among other things I have been trying to set out the argument of the "Origin of Species," and reading the book for the nth time for that purpose. It is one of the hardest books to understand thoroughly that I know of, and I suppose that is the reason why even people like Romanes get so hopelessly wrong. If you don't mind, I should be glad if you would run your eye over the thing when I get as far as the proof stage--Lord knows when that will be.