REMINISCENCES OF HUXLEY 205 
climb into one’s lap and ask for fairy tales, whereof I 
luckily had an ample repertoire. Nothing could be 
found more truly hospitable than the long dinner table, 
where our beaming host used to explain, “ Because this 
is called a tea is no reason why a man shouldn’t pledge 
his friend in a stoup of Rhenish, or even in a noggin of 
Glenlivet, if he has a mind to.” At the end of our 
first evening I was told that a plate would be set for 
me every Sunday, and I must never fail to come. 
After two or three Sundays, however, I began to feel 
afraid of presuming too much upon the cordiality of 
these new friends, and so, by a superhuman effort of 
self-control, and at the cost of unspeakable wretched- 
ness, I stayed away. For this truancy I was promptly 
called to account, a shamefaced confession was ex- 
torted, and penalties, vague but dire, were denounced 
in case of a second offence; so I never missed another 
Sunday evening till the time came for leaving London. 
Part of the evening used to be spent in the little 
overcrowded library, before a blazing fire, while we 
discussed all manner of themes, scientific or poetical, 
practical or philosophical, religious or zsthetic. Hux- 
ley, like a true epicure,smoked the sweet little brierwood 
pipe, but he seemed to take especial satisfaction in 
seeing me smoke very large full-flavoured Havanas from 
a box which some Yankee admirer had sent him. 
Whatever subject came uppermost in our talk, I was 
always impressed with the fulness and accuracy of his 
information and the keenness of his judgments; but 
that is, of course, what any appreciative reader can 
gather from his writings. Unlike Spencer, he was an 
omnivorous reader. Of historical and literary know- 
ledge, such as one usually gets from books, Spencer 
