I am not going to praise the charming style, because that was in the blood and you deserve no sort of credit for it. Besides, I should be stepping beyond my last. But as an observer of the human ant-hill--quite impartial by this time--I think your picture of one of the deeper aspects of our troubled time admirable. You are very hard on the philosophers. I do not know whether Langham or the Squire is the more unpleasant--but I have a great deal of sympathy with the latter, so I hope he is not the worst. If I may say so, I think the picture of Catherine is the gem of the book. She reminds me of her namesake of Siena--and would as little have failed in any duty, however gruesome. You remember Sodoma's picture. Once more, many thanks for a great pleasure. My wife sends her love. Ever yours very faithfully, T.H. Huxley. [Meanwhile, he had been making no progress towards health; indeed, was going slowly downhill. He makes fun of his condition when writing to condole with Mr. Spencer on falling ill again after the unwonted spell of activity already mentioned; but a few weeks later discovered the cause of his weakness and depression in an affection of the heart. This was not immediately dangerous, though he looked a complete wreck. His letters from April onwards show how he was forced to give up almost every form of occupation, and even to postpone his visit to Switzerland, until he had been patched up enough to bear the journey.] Casalini, West Cliff, Bournemouth, March 9, 1888. My dear Spencer, I am very sorry to hear from Hooker that you have been unwell again. You see if young men from the country will go plunging into the dissipations of the metropolis nemesis follows. Until two days ago, the weather cocks never overstepped North on the one side and East on the other ever since you left. Then they went west with sunshine and most enjoyable softness--but next South with a gale and rain--all ablowin' and agrowin' at this present. I have nothing to complain of so long as I do nothing; but although my hair has grown with its usual rapidity I differ from Samson in the absence of a concurrent return of strength. Perhaps that is because a male hairdresser, and no Delilah, cut it last! But I waste Biblical allusions upon you. My wife and Nettie, who is on a visit, join with me in best wishes. Please let me have a line to say how you are--Gladstonianly on a post-card. Ever yours very faithfully, T.H. Huxley. Bournemouth, April 7, 1888. My dear Foster, "Let thy servant's face be white before thee." The obituary of Darwin went to Rix yesterday! [Assistant Secretary of the Royal Society.] It is not for lack of painstaking if it is not worth much, but I have been in a bad vein for work of any kind, and I thought I should never get even this simple matter ended.