If I may say so, I think the picture of Catherine is the gem of the book. She reminds me of her namesake of Siena—and would as little have failed in any duty, however gruesome. You remember Sodoma's picture.
Once more, many thanks for a great pleasure.
My wife sends her love.
Ever yours very faithfully,
T.H. Huxley.
[Meanwhile, he had been making no progress towards health; indeed, was going slowly downhill. He makes fun of his condition when writing to condole with Mr. Spencer on falling ill again after the unwonted spell of activity already mentioned; but a few weeks later discovered the cause of his weakness and depression in an affection of the heart. This was not immediately dangerous, though he looked a complete wreck. His letters from April onwards show how he was forced to give up almost every form of occupation, and even to postpone his visit to Switzerland, until he had been patched up enough to bear the journey.]
Casalini, West Cliff, Bournemouth, March 9, 1888.
My dear Spencer,
I am very sorry to hear from Hooker that you have been unwell again. You see if young men from the country will go plunging into the dissipations of the metropolis nemesis follows.
Until two days ago, the weather cocks never overstepped North on the one side and East on the other ever since you left. Then they went west with sunshine and most enjoyable softness—but next South with a gale and rain—all ablowin' and agrowin' at this present.