350 GEORGE JOHN ROMANES 189* 



week; so that I am now able to walk but very 

 little — to hope, not much, to think, not at all. 



The truth is that my ailment, whatever it is, is 

 not to be reached by climatic influences : it belongs 

 to those mysterious internal changes, which Darwin 

 ascribes to what he calls ' the nature of the organism ' 

 — l variations which to our ignorance appear to arise 

 spontaneously.' Hence, I am out of harmony with 

 my environment, whatever the environment may be. 

 And, as this Spencerianism applies to my spiritual, 

 no less than to my bodily organisation, it would seem 

 that somehow or other I have been born into a wrong 

 world — like those poor Porto Santo rabbits, which 

 I took home with me last year, and the history of 

 which I think I told you. However, I do not intend 

 to grumble at the visible universe until I shall have 

 had an opportunity of looking round the edge and 

 seeing what is behind. 



Most of our time is spent in sheer idleness, or 

 rather, I should say, all of my time, and that propor- 

 tion of my wife's which is spent in reading to me — 

 chiefly novels, poetry, and history. Yesterday, we 

 had Coppee's play ' Le Pater,' which I know you 

 have read. For the length of it, I think it is as power- 

 ful a piece of dramatic writing as I have ever read. 



Very few worries find their way to L'Ermitage. 

 The worst at present is the choice of the next 

 'Bomanes Lecturer.' Owing to his accident, Helm- 

 holtz has blocked the way for the last two months, 

 but now promises a final reply in the course of a few 

 days. If he does come, I hope the University will 

 give him the D.C.L. 



