... There are so many things I wanted to write about your church (for which it was shabby of me not to remember and send you a contribution, in a small way) and the reopening services of which you sent us a newspaper account; your “Anselm,” which we read aloud in our deliberate way, on successive Sunday evenings, when not interrupted, and very much enjoyed; I think the later chapters most; perhaps because we got more interested as we went on, perhaps, too, the narrative flows on with a more free movement in the later than in the earlier chapters. Then there is this wonderful German-French war, which is only now closing, if it be the close, in such bitter humiliation of the French as no Frenchman could ever imagine possible, nor any but a German contemplate without deep sorrow and pity: all their hard measures of former generations meted out to them again, to this one hapless generation, in a way that till now it could never have dreamed of. For long years France must play a secondary political part, which of itself will be a bitter thing, we may hope a wholesome thing; and when with long care and nursing of resources she recovers, she cannot be so strong relatively again, while the German empire holds together. And I suppose you in England have a good deal of misgiving as to what this Germanic power portends. Perhaps the next great wonder, and surely the best thing, may be a great defensive alliance of English-speaking people round the world, which would render any European continental changes less momentous.
It seems to me that the hopeful prospect for France is in the ascendency, seemingly assured, of the conservative republicans and the Orleanists. But there are rumors that even the Orleans family are falling out among themselves.
As I grow older I can sympathize thoroughly with a disinclination you may feel as to assuming any new public duties. The deep ruts which the daily routine of life has worn for us do become such pleasant paths, as one ages, that we do not thank anybody for trying to force us out of them.
Nothing have we heard or seen of Mr. Horner yet: he has gone South probably, which is wise. I hope he will come this way in June, when we shall be very glad to see him....
By the way, I see in “Popular Science Review” a neat presentation of Wallace’s points on the limitations of natural selection as applied to man, by Buckle (I suppose your Oriel friend), who makes the point very well that these limitations apply hardly less, in their way, to other parts of the animal kingdom.
I am too much occupied with humdrum botanical work to read or think much of such matters.
Have you read or seen Bryant’s translation of the Iliad? It was discussed in our club last week by my neighbor, who read extracts from this, Lord Derby’s, and other translations: it was thought to be as readable as Lord Derby’s, to adhere quite as closely to the original, and to reflect more truly the simple directness of Homer, both of expression and thought. I should like to know what you think of it.
The most important matter, as concerns myself, is, that I am busy with plans of building, having found a man who is disposed to give the money for constructing here, adjacent to the herbarium, a much needed botanical lecture-room and laboratory for students. Between the herbarium (which, you know, adjoins our house, and communicates with it) and the conservatory, there is a space of 127 feet. This we mean to fill up: First, with a one-story brick building 60 × 38 feet, rather less than one half for botanical laboratory and cabinet, the rest lecture-room; then a lobby, and the remainder of the distance a low stove and a short, cool greenhouse, to establish connection with our present hothouse. Then, on the one hand, I can bring plants at all seasons into the lecture-room; and on the other I can reach the same under cover, from my private study, through the herbarium; and Mrs. Gray may walk, in winter, from her dining-room, through our little drawing-room, entry, library or parlor, my study, greenhouse corridor, herbarium, lobby, laboratory, lecture-room, passage, stove and coolhouse, into conservatory, of three compartments, a long affair, but don’t imagine anything at all grand. A snake, of which our house is the head and the farthest wing of the conservatory the tail, will give the best idea. In a lucky time I asked a man to build in this 127 feet, at an expense of at least twelve
THE RANGE OF BUILDINGS, BOTANIC GARDEN IN 1893