Characterisation, especially by Letters 447 



of course he can't come through!" "I never thought of that, papa," said the child, as with an 

 immense sigh of relief he turned over and went to sleep. 



If my uncle derived his genius through his Darwin mother, it is nevertheless certain that 

 the Galton father was most in sympathy with the boy's character. His devotion to his father's 

 memory was most touching, and only a few weeks ago, when the Copley Medal was offered him, 

 he wrote : "People are always very kind to me, but I wish my father were alive. It would 

 have given him real pleasure." His father had then been dead 6G years! 



I looked upon my uncle Francis as my special uncle, ever since I was quite a little child, 

 but it was not until after the death of his wife (whom 1 also loved dearly) in 1897, that 1 wns 

 admitted to a closer friendship, and that I ventured to discuss many things — religious matters 

 especially — with him. 



Later still, in 1904, when his beloved Sister, Emma Galton, died, he asked me to correspond 

 regularly with him, just as she had done for many years, so that the custom became established 

 from that time forward until his death, for me to write every Friday, and he every Monday or 

 Tuesday. 



I have an amusing recollection of a little trip to Auvergne which he and I took together in 

 the summer of 1901 only a few weeks before he sustained the great sorrow consequent on his 

 Sister, Emma Galton's, death. The heat was terrific, and I felt utterly exhausted, but seeing him 

 perfectly brisk and full of energy in spite of his 82 years, dared not, for very shame, confess to 

 my miserable condition. I recollect one terrible train-journey, when, smothered with dust and 

 panting with heat, I bad to bear his reproachful looks for drawing a curtain forward to ward off 

 a little of the blazing sun in which he was revelling. He drew out a small thermometer which 

 registered 94°, observing: "Yes, only 94°. Are you aware that when the temperature of the 

 air exceeds that of blood-heat, it is apt to be trying?" I could quite believe it! — By and by 

 he asked me whether it would not be pleasant to wash our face and hands? I certainly thought 

 so, but did not see how it was to be done. Then, with perfect .simplicity and sublime disregard 

 of appearances and of the astounded looks of the other occupants of our compartment, a very 

 much "got-up" Frenchman and two fashionably dressed Frenchwomen, he proceeded to twist 

 his newspaper into the shape of a washhand basin, produced an infinite.siin.il ly small bit of soap, 

 and poured some water out of a medicine bottle, and we performed our ablutions I fear I was 

 too self-conscious to enjoy the proceeding, but it never seemed to occur to him that- he was 

 doing anything unusual ! 



He had ordered rooms at Royat, insisting that they should have a southern aspect. On 

 arriving at the Hotel it was found that they looked due north. Then, for the first and only 

 time since I had known him, he was guilty of a very forcible and by no means parliamentary 

 ejaculation. A minute or two later he turned round and saw me. He appeared exceedingly 

 uncomfortable, and at last could stand it no longer : " Br 61 did you bear what er I said 

 just now?" I could not resist the temptation of declaring myself extremely pained and shocked, 

 but he was so genuinely distressed 1 had to hasten and assure him I was only talking nonsense. 



He half-killed me by his energy at Royat. We used to sally forth at 1 a.m. and take 

 a walk before the heat of the day. That was really enjoyable, but I felt by no means enthusiastic 

 when we started off again when the sun was at its highest, and walked and trammed whereso 

 ever it was hottest. He always chose the sunny side of the mail, bin occasionally I rebelled 

 and left him to his sun whilst I walked in the shade. He really was a salamander! I can see 

 him now, sitting at his work-table in the window at Royat) with the broiling sun streaming 

 down upon his bald head. Even to think of it is almost enough to give one a sunstroke. 



Hut it was not long after our Royat visit (where he had gone to visit, his wife's grave) that 

 his strength gradually began to fail. His sister's death, soon after our return, was a terrible 

 blow to him. I do not know what he would have done, hut for his great niece Eva Biggs, who 

 devoted herself to him as if she had been his daughter. The few remaining years of his life 

 brought him much sorrow -the death of his eldest sister at the age of neatly 98 and of his 

 brothei-, aged 94, leaving him the only survivor of his family. My Mother — his Sister Adele — ■ 

 had died many years before. However, with the exception of his deafness, he retained all his 

 faculties to a wonderful extent. His eyesight was extraordinarily good, and he could lead the 

 smallest print up to the last. The diaries he kept for many yean were not, I suppose, more 

 than 2 or at most 2.', inches square, and his writing in them was necessarily so minute that 

 I could not see to read it. Hi BO B of smell was also singularly acute, and I imagine that of 



