RETURN FROM THE CANARIES 



273 



of invalidism that my intention is, to keep severely out of all 

 imprudences. 



But what is a man to do if his friends take advantage of 

 his absence, and go giving him gold medals behind his back? 

 That you have been an accomplice in this nefarious plot — mine 

 Own familiar friend whom I trusted and trust — is not to be 

 denied. Well, it is very pleasant to have toil that is now all 

 ancient history remembered, and I shall go to the meeting and 

 the dinner and make my speech in spite of as many possible 

 devils of dyspepsia as there are plates and dishes on the table. 



We were lucky in getting in for nothing worse than heavy 

 rolling, either out or in. Teneriffe is well worth seeing. The 

 Cafiadas is something quite by itself, a bit of Egypt 6000 feet up 

 with a bare volcanic cone, or rather long barrow sticking up 

 6000 feet in the middle of it. 



Otherwise, Madeira is vastly superior. I rode across from 

 Funchal to Sao Vicente, up to Paul da Serra, then along the 

 coast to Santa Anna, arid back from Sta. Anna to Funchal. I 

 have seen nothing comparable except in Mauritius, nor anything 

 anywhere like the road by the cliffs from Sao Vicente to Sta. 

 Anna. Lucky for me that my ancient nautical habit of sticking 

 on to a horse came back. A good deal of the road is like a bad 

 staircase, with no particular banisters, and a well of 1000 feet 

 with the sea at the bottom. Your heart would rejoice over the 

 great heaths. I saw one, the bole of which split into nearly 

 equal trunks ; and one of these was just a metre in circumfer- 

 ence, and had a head as big as a moderate-sized ash. Gorse in 

 full flower, up to 12 or 15 feet high. On the whole a singular 

 absence of flowering herbs except Cinerarias and, especially in 

 Teneriffe, Echium. I did not chance to see a Euphorbia in 

 Madeira, though I believe there are some. In Teneriffe they are 

 everywhere in queer shapes, and there was a thing that mim- 

 icked the commonest Euphorbia but had no milk, which I will 

 ask you about when I see you. The Euphorbias were all in 

 flower, but this thing had none. But you will have had enough 

 of my scrawl. — Ever yours affectionately, 



T. H. Huxley. 



54 



