visit to her daughter:--]

Yesterday two ladies called to know if they could see the Manx Mannikins. I think of having a board put up to say that in the absence of the Proprietress the show is closed.

[The other incident was a request for any remarks which might be of use in an article upon the Home Pets of Celebrities. I give the letter written in answer to this, as well as descriptions of the same cat's goings-on in the absence of its mistress.]

To Mr. J.G. Kitton.

Hodeslea, April 12, 1893.

A long series of cats has reigned over my household for the last forty years, or thereabouts, but I am sorry to say that I have no pictorial or other record of their physical and moral excellences.

The present occupant of the throne is a large, young, grey Tabby--Oliver by name. Not that he is in any sense a protector, for I doubt whether he has the heart to kill a mouse. However, I saw him catch and eat the first butterfly of the season, and trust that this germ of courage, thus manifested, may develop with age into efficient mousing.

As to sagacity, I should say that his judgment respecting the warmest place and the softest cushion in a room is infallible--his punctuality at meal times is admirable; and his pertinacity in jumping on people's shoulders, till they give him some of the best of what is going, indicates great firmness.

[To his youngest daughter:--]

Hodeslea Eastbourne, January 8, 1893.

I wish you would write seriously to M--. She is not behaving well to Oliver. I have seen handsomer kittens, but few more lively, and energetically destructive. Just now he scratched away at something that M-- says cost 13 shillings 6 pence a yard--and reduced more or less of it to combings.

M-- therefore excludes him from the dining-room, and all those opportunities of higher education which he would naturally have in MY house.

I have argued that it is as immoral to place 13 shillings 6 pence a yard-nesses within reach of kittens as to hang bracelets and diamond rings in the front garden. But in vain. Oliver is banished--and the protector (not Oliver) is sat upon.

In truth and justice aid your Pa.

[This letter is embellished with fancy portraits of:--]

Oliver when most quiescent (tail up; ready for action). O. as polisher (tearing at the table leg). O. as plate basket investigator. O. as gardener (destroying plants in a pot). O. as stocking knitter (a wild tangle of cat and wool). O. as political economist making good for trade at 13 shillings 6 pence a yard (pulling at a hassock).

[The following to Sir John Evans refers to a piece of temporary forgetfulness.]

Hodeslea, Eastbourne, March 19, 1893.

My dear Evans,

It is curious what a difference there is between intentions and acts, especially in the matter of sending cheques. The moment I saw the project of the Lawes and Gilbert testimonial in the "Times", I sent my contribution in imagination--and it is only the arrival of this circular which has waked me up to the necessity of supplementing my ideal cheque by the real one inclosed.

Ever yours very faithfully,

T.H. Huxley.

[Reference has been made to the writing of the Romanes Lecture in 1892. Mr. Gladstone had already consented to deliver the first lecture in that year; and early in the summer Professor Romanes sounded Huxley to find out whether he would undertake the second lecture for 1893. Huxley suggested a possible bar in his precarious health; but subject to this possibility, if the Vice-Chancellor did not regard it as a complete disability, was willing to accept a formal invitation.

Professor Romanes reassured him upon this point, and further begged him, if possible, to be ready to step into the breach if Mr. Gladstone should be prevented from lecturing in the following autumn. The situation became irresistible, and the second of the following letters to Mr. Romanes displays no more hesitation.]

To Professor Romanes.

Hodeslea, June 3, 1892.

I should have written to you yesterday, but the book did not arrive till this morning. Very many thanks for it. It looks appetising, and I look forward to the next course.

As to the Oxford lecture, "Verily, thou almost persuadest me," though I thought I had finished lecturing. I really should like to do it; but I have a scruple about accepting an engagement of this important kind, which I might not be able to fulfil.

I am astonishingly restored, and have not had a trace of heart trouble for months. But I am quite aware that I am, physically speaking, on good behaviour--and maintain my condition only by taking an amount of care which is very distasteful to me.

Furthermore, my wife's health is, I am sorry to say, extremely precarious. She was very ill a fortnight ago, and to my very great regret, as well as hers, we are obliged to give up our intended visit to Balliol to-morrow. She is quite unfit to travel, and I cannot leave her here alone for three days.

I think the state of affairs ought to be clear to the Vice-Chancellor. If, in his judgment, it constitutes no hindrance, and he does me the honour to send the invitation, I shall accept it.

To the same:--]

Hodeslea, June 7, 1892.

I am afraid that age hath not altogether cleared the spirit of mischief out of my blood; and there is something so piquant in the notion of my acting as substitute for Gladstone that I will be ready if necessity arises.

Of course I will keep absolutely clear of Theology. But I have long had fermenting in my head, some notions about the relations of Ethics and Evolution (or rather the absence of such as are commonly supposed), which I think will be interesting to such an audience as I may expect. "Without prejudice," as the lawyers say, that is the sort of topic that occurs to me.

[To the same:--]

Hodeslea, October 30, 1892.

I had to go to London in the middle of last week about the Gresham University business, and I trust I have put a very long nail into the coffin of that scheme. For which good service you will forgive my delay in replying to your letter. I read all about your show--why not call it "George's Gorgeous," tout court?

I should think that there is no living man, who, on such an occasion, could intend and contrive to say so much and so well (in form) without ever rising above the level of antiquarian gossip.

My lecture would have been ready if the G.O.M. had failed you, but I am very glad to have six months' respite, as I now shall be able to write and rewrite it to my heart's content.

I will follow the Gladstonian precedent touching cap and gown--but I trust the Vice-Chancellor will not ask me to take part in a "Church Parade" and read the lessons. I couldn't--really.

As to the financial part of the business, to tell you the honest truth, I would much rather not be paid at all for a piece of work of this kind. I am no more averse to turning an honest penny by my brains than any one else in the ordinary course of things--quite the contrary; but this is not an ordinary occasion. However, this is a pure matter of taste, and I do not want to set a precedent which might be inconvenient to other people--so I agree to what you propose.

By the way, is there any type-writer who is to be trusted in Oxford? Some time ago I sent a manuscript to a London type-writer, and to my great disgust I shortly afterwards saw an announcement that I was engaged on the topic.

[On the following day he writes to his wife, who was staying with her youngest daughter in town:--]

The Vice-Chancellor has written to me and I have fixed May--exact day by and by. Mrs. Romanes has written a crispy little letter to remind us of our promise to go there, and I have chirrupped back.

[The "chirrup" ran as follows:--]

Hodeslea, November 1, 1892.

My dear Mrs. Romanes,

I have just written to the Vice-Chancellor to say that I hope to be at his disposition any time next May.

My wife is "larking"--I am sorry to use such a word, but what she is pleased to tell me of her doings leaves me no alternative--in London, whither I go on Thursday to fetch her back--in chains, if necessary. But I know, in the matter of being "taken in and done for" by your hospitable selves, I may, for once, speak for her as well as myself.

Don't ask anybody above the rank of a younger son of a Peer--because I shall not be able to go in to dinner before him or her--and that part of my dignity is naturally what I prize most. Would you not like me to