My dear Paget,--I have had to abandon letter writing for several weeks past, as the least effort, even in the way of conversation, produces exhaustion in a painful degree. So, as usual, I had to ask my wife to answer your kind letter yesterday. But this morning I feel a little bit better, so I should like to have a try. She has gone to church, and therefore, as I could not even hear her read the letter which she posted to you yesterday, there is likely to be some repetition. * * * * * Oddly enough for my time of life, I have begun to discover the truth of what you once wrote about logical processes not being the only means of research in regions transcendental. It is too large a matter to deal with in a letter, but I hope to have a conversation with you some day, and ascertain how far you will agree with a certain 'new and short way with the Agnostics.' * * * * * Yours ever sincerely and affectionately, GEO. J. ROMANES. He had all his old interest in psychical research, and a friend, Mrs. Crawfurd, of Auchinames, who shared this interest, used to beguile many weary hours with ghost stories, and he and she used to 'cap' each other's narratives. There were pleasant people in the hotels around, and the bright sunshine and balmy air were great sources of enjoyment to him. Dr. Bidon, of Hyères, was unfailing in constant kindness, and it would be ungrateful not to say how much was owed to the kind landlord, M. Peyron, and to Madame Peyron. The journey to England was apparently borne without undue fatigue, and the home coming was very bright, with joyous meeting with his children and with various friends. The only difficulty was to keep him quiet enough. It was said one day, 'When you go home you must not see too many people.' 'Oh, no,' he replied, 'I only want to see Paget, and Dr. Sanderson, and Gore, and Philip (Waggett), and Mrs. Woods, and Ray Lankester, and ----' but he stopped, laughing, the list was already so long and would soon have been doubled. For a few days his wife was away, and during this brief absence a very dear friend, Miss Rose Price, the daughter of the Master of Pembroke, died. He writes: _To Mrs. Romanes._