2l8 LIFE OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY CHAP, xm 



I am not so vigorous as I was at Maloja, but still infinitely 

 better than when I left England. 



I hope the mosquitoes left something of you in Venice. 

 When I was there in October there were none ! 



My wife joins with me in love to Mrs. Foster and yourself. 

 Ever yours very faithfully, T. H. HUXLEY. 



Some friendly chaff in Sir M. Foster's reply to the latter 

 contains at least a real indication of the way in which Huxley 

 became the centre of the little society at the Maloja : 



You may reflect that you have done the English tourists a 

 good service this summer. At most table d'hotes in the Lakes I 

 overheard people talking about the joys of Maloja, and giving 

 themselves great airs, on account of their intimacy with " Pro- 

 fessor Huxley " ! ! 



But indeed he made several friends here, notably one in 

 an unexpected quarter. This was Father Steffens, Professor 

 of Palaeography in Freiburg University, resident Catholic 

 priest at Maloja in the summer, with whom he had many 

 discussions, and whose real knowledge of the critical ques- 

 tions confronting Christian theology he used to contrast 

 with the frequent ignorance and occasional rudeness of the 

 English representatives of that science who came to the 

 hotel. 



A letter to Mr. Spencer from Ragatz shows him on his 

 return journey : 



In fact, so long as I was taking rather sharp exercise in sun- 

 shine I felt quite well, and I could walk as well as any time these 

 ten years. It needed damp cold weather to remind me that my 

 pumping apparatus was not to be depended upon under unfa- 

 vourable conditions. Four thousand feet descent has impressed 

 that fact still more forcibly upon me, and I am quite at sea as to 

 what it will be best to do when we return. Quite certainly, 

 however, we shall not go to Bournemouth. I like the place, 

 but the air is too soft and moist for either of us. 



I should be very glad if we could be within reach of you 

 and help to cheer you up, but I cannot say anything definite 

 at present about our winter doings. . . . 



My wife sends her kindest regards. She is much better than 

 when we left, which is lucky for me, as I have no mind, and 



