1 74 LIFE OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY chap, x 



The following letter was in answer to a request which 

 I was commissioned to forward him, that he would consent 

 to serve on an honorary committee of the Societe des Pro- 

 fesseurs de Frangais en Angleterre. 



Jan. 17, 1887. 



I quite forgot to say anything about the Comite d'honneur, 

 and as you justly remark in the present strained state of foreign 

 politics the consequences may be serious. Please tell your col- 

 league that I shall be " proud an' 'appy." You need not tell him 

 that my pride and happiness are contingent on having nothing to 

 do for the honour. 



In the meantime, the ups and downs of his health are 

 reflected in various letters of these six months. Much set 

 up by his stay in the Isle of Wight, he writes from Shanklin 

 on April 1 1 to Sir E. Frankland, describing the last meeting 

 of the x Club, which the latter had not been able to attend, 

 as he was staying in the Riviera : — 



Hooker, Tyndall, and I alone turned up last Thursday. Lub- 

 bock had gone to High Elms about used up by the House of 

 Commons, and there was no sign of Hirst. 



Tyndall seemed quite himself again. In fact, we three old 

 fogies voted unanimously that we were ready to pit ourselves 

 against any three youngsters of the present generation in walk- 

 ing, climbing, or head-work, and give them odds. 



I hope you are in the same comfortable frame of mind. 



I had no notion that Mentone had suffered so seriously in 

 the earthquake of 1887. Moral for architects : read your Bible 

 and build your house upon the rock. 



The sky and sea here may be fairly matched against Mentone 

 or any other of your Mediterranean places. Also the east wind, 

 which has been blowing steadily for ten days, and is nearly as 

 keen as the Tramontana. Only in consequence of the long cold 

 and drought not a leaf is out. 



Shanklin, indeed, suited him so well that he had half a 

 mind to settle there. " There are plenty of sites for build- 

 ing," he writes home in February. " but I have not thought 

 of commencing a house yet." However, he gave up the 

 idea ; Shanklin was too far from town. 



But though he was well enough as long as he kept out 

 of London, a return to his life there was not possible for any 



