Mrs. Ward's service consists in her very clear and clever exposition of critical results and methods. 3 Jevington Gardens, Eastbourne, February 29, 1889. My dear Knowles, I have just been delighted with Mrs. Ward's article. She has swept away the greater part of Wace's sophistries as a dexterous and strong-wristed housemaid sweeps away cobwebs with her broom, and saved a lot of time. What in the world does the Bishop mean by saying that I have called Christianity "sorry stuff" (page 370)? To my knowledge I never so much as thought anything of the kind, let alone saying it. I shall challenge him very sharply about this, and if, as I believe, he has no justification for his statement, my opinion of him will be very considerably lowered. Wace has given me a lovely opening by his profession of belief in the devils going into the swine. I rather hoped I should get this out of him. I find people are watching the game with great interest, and if it should be possible for me to give a little shove to the "New Reformation," I shall think the fag end of my life well spent. After all, the reproach made to the English people that "they care for nothing but religion and politics" is rather to their credit. In the long run these are the two things that ought to interest a man more than any others. I have been much bothered with ear-ache lately, but if all goes well I will send you a screed by the middle of March. Snowing hard! They have had more snow within the last month than they have known for ten years here. Ever yours faithfully, T.H. Huxley. [He set to work immediately, and within ten days despatched his second contribution, "Agnosticism, a Rejoinder," which appeared in the April number of the "Nineteenth Century". On March 3 he writes:--] I am possessed by a writing demon, and have pretty well finished in the rough another article for Knowles, whose mouth is wide open for it. [And on the 9th:--] I sent off another article to Knowles last night--a regular facer for the clericals. You can't think how I enjoy writing now for the first time in my life. [He writes at greater length to Mr. Knowles] 3 Jevington Gardens, Eastbourne, March 10, 1889. My dear Knowles, There's a Divinity that shapes the ends (of envelopes!) rough-hew them how we will. This time I went and bought the strongest to be had, and sealed him up with wax in the shop. I put no note inside, meaning to write to you afterwards, and then I forgot to do so. I can't understand Peterborough nohow. However, so far as the weakness of the flesh would permit me to abstain from smiting him and his brother Amalekite, I have tried to turn the tide of battle to matters of more importance.