I8S6 IN AROLLA 



147 



4 Marlborough Place, Sept. 10, 1886. 



My dear Foster — We got back last evening after a very 

 successful trip. Arolla suited us all to a T, and we are all in 

 great force. As for me, I have not known of the existence of 

 my liver, and except for the fact that I found fifteen or sixteen 

 miles with a couple of thousand feet up and down quite enough, 

 I could have deluded myself into the fond imagination that I 

 was twenty years younger. 



By way of amusement I bought a Swiss Flora in Lausanne 

 and took to botanising — and my devotion to the gentians led the 

 Bishop of Chichester — a dear old man, who paid us (that is the 

 hotel) a visit — to declare that I sought the " Ur-gentian " as a 

 kind of Holy Grail. The only interruption to our felicity was 

 the death of a poor fellow, who was brought down on a guide's 

 back from an expedition he ought not to have undertaken, and 

 whom I did my best to keep alive one night. But rapid pleuritic 

 effusion finished him the next morning, in spite of (I hope 

 not in consequence of) such medical treatment as I could 

 give him. 



I see you had a great meeting at Birmingham, but I know 

 not details. The delegation to Sydney is not a bad idea, but 

 why on earth have they arranged that it shall arrive in the 

 middle of the hot weather? Speechifying with the thermometer 

 at 90° in the shade will try the nerves of the delegates, I can 

 tell them. 



I shall remain quietly here and see whether I can stand 

 London. I hope I may, for the oestrus of work is upon me — for 

 the first time this couple of years. Let me have some news of 

 you. With our love to your wife and you— Ever yours, 



T. H. Huxley. 



4 Marlborough Place, N.W., Sept. 14, 1886. 



My dear Donnelly — I hear that some of your alguazils 

 were looking after me yesterday, so I had better give myself up 

 at once — hoping it will be considered in the sentence. 



The fact is I have been going to write to you ever since we 

 came back last Thursday evening, but I had about fifty other 

 letters to write and got sick of the operation. 



We are all in great force, and as for me, I never expected a 

 year ago to be as well as I am. I require to look in the glass 

 and study the crows' feet and the increasing snow cap on the 

 summit of my Tete noire (as it once was), to convince myself 

 I am not twenty years younger. 



