HOLIDAY EEADING 69 



got up, and he awoke with pain and stiffness all over, and 

 though he held out on the Thursday, was down with his old 

 enemy, rheumatic fever, next day: For three weeks he lay 

 in great pain, distracted by his inability to render help when 

 it was so much needed: Happily his friends Berkeley and 

 Thomson, who were at Kew, took over the examinations for 

 Assistant Surgeons which he had in hand. 

 1 Then Dr. Campbell, his old Darjiling friend, backed by a 

 London doctor, carried him off to his own house in Notting Hill, 

 whence, as he got better, he was sent to complete his cure 

 in the bracing air of Buxton, being forbidden to return to 

 work until October 20, a leave subsequently extended to the 

 end of the month. 



The enforced leisure of convalescence afforded much oppor- 

 tunity for miscellaneous reading. From time to time the letters 

 which passed between Darwin and Hooker contain references 

 to novels, for Darwin, as we know, constantly had novels read 

 to him when unable to work, and Hooker, from his wife's and 

 his own reading, would offer suggestions or criticisms. Thus 

 in 1863 Hooker recommends * The Admiral's Daughter ' by 

 the author of * Emilia Wyndham,' which on re-reading he had 

 found as deeply interesting as on his first reading twenty -five 

 years before ; but this was barred as ending too sadly. Next 

 year ' Quits ' is more successful ; on a return recommendation, 

 Hooker at Bath cannot get ' Beppo,' but borrows ' Komola,' 

 f which is ponderous.' In April 1865, having received from 

 Darwin the serial numbers of Wilkie Collins' novel, Hooker 

 replies, * I have nearly finished " Can you Forgive Her ? " 

 and have made up my mind that I cannot at all do so, and 

 don't care whether she minds it or no.' 



Now the unexpected scope of holiday reading appears from 

 two letters to Darwin. Indeed he was so much tickled by the 

 idea of having been reduced to reading ' Clarissa Harlowe,' 

 that he repeated the announcement to Huxley, with a ' Figurez 

 vous, mon cher Huxley. 1 



September 26, 1865. 



Out of the utter idleness of my mind I write to you, you 

 dear blessed ultima thule of my fatuous correspondence, to 



