146 LIFE OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY CHAP. VII 



With all this, however, Time runs on. People look 

 upon me, I suppose, as a "very promising young man," 

 and perhaps envy my " success," and I all the while am 

 cursing my stars that my Pegasus will fly aloft instead of 

 pulling slowly along in some respectable gig, and getting 

 his oats like any other praiseworthy cart-horse. 



It's a charming piece of irony altogether. It is two 

 years yesterday since I left Sydney harbour and of 

 course as long since I saw Nettie. I am getting thoroughly 

 tired of our separation, and I think she is, though the 

 dear little soul is ready to do anything for my sake, and 

 yet I dare not face the stagnation the sense of having 

 failed in the whole purpose of my existence which 

 would, I know, sooner or later beset me, even with her, 

 if I forsake my present object. Can you wonder with all 

 this, my dearest Lizzie, that often as I long for your 

 brave heart and clear head to support and advise me, 

 I yet rarely feel inclined to write? Pray write to me 

 more often than you have done ; tell me all about your- 

 self and the Doctor and your children. They must be 

 growing up fast, and Florry must be getting beyond the 

 " Bird of Paradise " I promised her. Love and kisses to 

 all of them, and kindest remembrances to the Doctor. 

 Ever your affectionate brother, T. H. HUXLEY. 



To Miss HEATHORN 



Nov. 13, 1852. 



Going last week to the Royal Society's library for a 

 book, and like the boy in church " thinkin' o' naughten," 

 when I went in, Weld, the Assistant Secretary, said, 

 " Well, I congratulate you." I confess I did not see at 

 that moment what any mortal man had to congratulate 

 me about I had a deuced bad cold, with rheumatism 

 in my head ; it was a beastly November day and I 

 was very grumpy, so I inquired in a state of mild surprise 



